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Everybody Plays, Everybody Winns

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2012-03-19T23:10:25-04:00

Dropping Out Of Lent - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2012-03-12T23:09:02-04:00

Lent is one of my favorite seasons of each year. I treasure the chance to engage my mind and heart in a course of discipline that brings me closer to the ideal person God intends for me to be. This year I had been making nice headway with daily devotional readings and special down-time with God two or three times per week. I even chose to fast from my greatest desire—the purchasing of fabric (I’m a quilter and I LIVE for fabric.)

My Lenten journey took a rough detour this week, however, when I flew to Las Vegas to join my husband, Wayne, on a business trip. From the moment I touched down at the Las Vegas airport and made my way through the maze of slot machines that stand in the terminal’s path to Ground Transportation, I felt a malaise come over me. My usually uplifted spirit was cast down and I battled a misery that weighed heavily. Las Vegas is, afterall, Sin City. It was as if sin was eating at me, trying to destroy my resolve to follow Jesus.

During each of the four days of my visit, I struggled against an ugly force and tried to find solace in the scriptural readings I brought along. These readings helped me, somewhat, each day but were not able to boost me to the pre-travel Lenten serenity I’d become accustomed to.

Once in Kinnelon again, I am happy to report that my spiritual trek is back on course. The temporary soul-altering break from devotion has re-invigorated my dedication to discipline.

Blessings to you on your Lenten walk.

Moose - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2012-02-19T23:07:20-05:00

The Book of Hebrews speaks of “provoking one another to love and good deeds,” (Hebrews 10:24) which is what happened when several members of the congregation pulled together in January to replace the tile floor in the Fellowship Hall. One of the blessings of being provoked to be together in service is the chance to be more connected to one another through conversation…and even coincidence.

On one of the days of the retiling, a deacon from the church was feeling particularly down because that was the day he also needed to pick up the ashes of his family’s recently cremated brindle-colored, Pitbull/Mastiff dog, Moose, whose battle with cancer ended, mercifully, just before Christmas.

While this deacon was taking a break from the work, he entered into conversation with another church regular. In this conversation, the “regular” began talking to the deacon about a dog, named Moose, who had recently been put down and cremated. The “regular” mentioned Moose’s cancer and the decision to spare Moose of any further agony by putting the dog to sleep just before Christmas.

The deacon was amazed that this other worker, whom he barely knew, could be talking about the deacon’s dog, Moose. “How does he know my dog?” he kept thinking.

It turns out that the other worker, the regular, also had a brindle-colored, Pitbull/Mastiff dog who was dying of cancer and who needed to be put to sleep nearly to the day of the deacon’s dog. And, in a case of uncanny irony, the other worker’s dog was also named “Moose.”

As both men shook their heads and pondered the unique similarities in their situations, they were able to get to know one another and help each other in their separate grieving. They were “provoked” to love one another while attending to the good deed of tiling a church hall.

Zumbe Got Us Moving

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2012-02-18T15:17:57-05:00

Near the end of the fall last year, a local Zumba instructor approached the church to see if she could rent space from us and offer her energetic classis (a fusion of Latin and international music and dance that results in a great cardio workout). Our rental captain worked with the instructor to get thins in place so that Zumba could start here on Wednesday evening sometime in early December.

Because Zumba requires a lot of fast-paced foot action, by the middle of December it was clear that the floor where the classes are held (in the Fellowship Hall, which was the location of our sanctuary for many years) had been so weathered over time that the corners of the tiles were lifting up and becoming a hazard for the Zumba-ers.

With this news, an e-mail blast went out to church members during Christmas break announcing that we needed to lay a new tile floor. The response from church folk was astounding and still brings me to tears. Within days of the announcement, people were working on the tearing up of the old floor. Within a week’s time, a new design was decided and the new tiles had arrived. By New Year’s Eve, an entire team of men and women from RCK were on their hands and knees creating the replacement floor. As of this past Saturday, January 14, an entire new tiled floor was in place.

Thanks, Zumba, for getting us moving on a much needed improvement to our facilities.

And, thank you to ALL of the RCK members and friends who donated their time and their talents to this effort.

Brass Fitting = Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-12-23T09:17:09-05:00

One of the great things about living in a close-knit community like Kinnelon is the way a neighbor or a friend or a colleague in the community can recommend just the right person for getting a job done. This is the way I found out that the 5 brothers at Benjamin Franklin Plumbing in Pompton Lakes could help the church solve a long-standing dilemma.

First the background story. Our choir director, who has been leading us in worship for 25 years, was given a music stand on the occasion of her 15th anniversary. Somewhere between the time she received the stand and now, the stand was knocked over and broken. Even though there have been several earnest attempts to fix the stand, it tilts and it shakes and it has a hard time managing its only duty—to hold the sheet music in place when the director conducts the choir.

It comes down to the fitting. The brass fitting that sits under the horizontal shelf and connects it with the vertical post supporting the shelf had gotten bent and beaten. A suggestion was made to find a jeweler or a plumber who had soldering equipment and could possibly do the work in his or her workplace.

The recommendation that came to me, from some long-time Kinnelon residents, was to call the guys at Benjamin Franklin Plumbing. What a great experience that was. Not only were they immediately responsive to this particular cause, but they insisted on not charging the church for their work.

In a small town, it’s often a matter of mentioning a problem to the veteran residents. From there, things just seem to fall into place.

Some Tricks Just Aren't Cool - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-11-20T19:08:59-05:00

My blog post just before this one boasts about the trusting community of Kinnelon as evidenced by things like freshly-made donuts on Halloween night. In the post I talk about the family in Fayson Lakes who make upwards of 1500 donuts for Trick ‘r Treaters and how Wesley (my 12-year-old son) and I had the chance to make and serve the donuts with this family. It was a great experience and was fun to share in my bog post.

So, it is with a heavy heart that I feel the need to blog about something else that happened in Kinnelon on Halloween Night. Apparently, a couple kids in the mindset of pulling a prank spray-painted a Swastika, the number “666,” and the word “Jew” on the pavement in front of a home of a Jewish family.

It’s hard to know the intent behind such action. And, it’s even harder to know what has failed in the schooling and parenting of such “pranksters” that they would not realize how offensive and hurtful such symbols and words can be.

On the heels of being elated that Kinnelon is the kind of place where hand-made food can be served on Halloween, this glimpse into the community here makes me heartsick.

The Donut House - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-11-05T19:01:20-04:00

Within in the first month of arriving in Kinnelon a year ago I heard about the “Donut House” on Halloween. There is a family here that has been making and serving fresh donuts on Trick ‘r Treat night for several decades.

I was curious about this phenomenon because, since the early ‘70s at least, children and parents have been warned against accepting any item not pre-packaged from a manufacturer. Unsealed food items could be dangerous. (Apples for instance--a food in abundance in the fall--were said to contain razor blades.) But here in Kinnelon there was enough trust among the community that this family could heat up their deep fryers and get out their sugaring bags in preparation for serving nearly 1500 donuts in one night.

Another thing that happened to me once I got settled here in Kinnelon was meeting Darlene Merner. I have a quilting business and needed someone to help me make quilts. Darlene is a master of all things domestic, including sewing, and puts together a fierce nine-patch (you’d have to be a quilter to get this reference). Darlene’s neighbor, who knows me from the church, made the connection between D and me and we have been in cahoots over fabric and family and other subjects since January.

It didn’t take long for me to learn that Darlene and her husband, Tim, are THE DONUT HOUSE people! So, when the summer rolled to its completion and the school year got moving again, conversation between me and Darlene turned to Halloween. Specifically, donuts on Halloween. Turns out, with so many donuts to make, the Merners always need extra hands in their kitchen…and at their front door.

That’s how Wesley (my 12-year-old son) and I ended up at one of the most popular Trick ‘r Treating spots in all of Kinnelon on Halloween Night. What an incredible experience. I’ll add it to my list of “Things that make me happy about Kinnelon.”

BAck To School Night...What a Nightmare - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-10-25T23:25:03-04:00

So it was Back-to-School night here in Kinnelon recently. I really wasn’t prepared for it. It wasn’t on my calendar. It was on Wayne’s calendar, but he was leaving town on the morning of BtS. He made a passing comment to me about it as he headed out the door.

Since I wasn’t prepared, there were lots of things I didn’t know. First, I didn’t know it would start at 6:30. I arrived at 6:45, figuring I would be getting there early for a 7:00 start. By the time I pulled up to park I needed to drive all the way to the firehouse to find a spot. (Thanks, KVFD!)

Another thing I didn’t know was the format for the evening. At Pearl Miller School, parents attending BtS experience an abbreviated version of their child’s schedule. The parents who were in on this knew to bring a copy of the child’s schedule. I had nothing.

I didn’t know the layout of the school. I didn’t know the room numbers. I didn’t know where the stairs were. I didn’t know which doors would be locked. It was dreadful. Truly, dreadful. I was filled with the same dread I experienced as a child when I needed to become familiar with a new school…each year. (My father was in the Marine Corps and we moved to a new home each of the first 13 years of my life.)

By the time we parents were heading into Period 6, I was heading into such a state of frenzy that I began to cry. Honest. I cried in Mrs. Burke’s math class. I just sat there with tears streaming down my face. I was glad I was up in the front of the room. I didn’t want anyone to see me. I was grateful I had not been wearing a clerical collar. The last thing I would want is for people to come to know the new pastor in town as “the one who cried at school.”

And then, of course, I hear someone say, “Hi, Beverly!”

Oh. My. Goodness. Someone recognized me.

It was the mom of a girl in Wesley’s math class. She remembered me from the times she and her daughter had come to church. When I looked at her, her smiling, comforting face I wished I could press an escape key and vanish. It was an awful moment.

However, in a way that seemed to be only arranged by God, Tracy was willing to continue her upbeat chatter long enough for me to compose myself and feel confident. She shared her own horror stories about not knowing forms to complete, and homework expectations, and the routine for a middle school cafeteria.

Tracy even followed up the next day via e-mail to check on my status. The checking-up thing is usually what I do in my role as a pastor. Here, she was pastoring me. And I needed it.

So, I survived Back to School night. If the rules don’t change between now and next fall, I’ll do much better when it comes around again.

K Fest - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-10-04T22:52:13-04:00

The rain clouds threatened but they didn’t prevail for Kinnelon Day 2011, known as K-Fest—held at Camp Rickabear. It was the happening place for town residents this past Sunday. From my perspective, it was one of the many examples of why it’s so great to live here.

Once worship and fellowship were finished at the church, Wesley (11) and I threw on jeans and jackets and took a walk down to the high school parking lot where buses were available to transport residents through the lakes and around the countryside (the bridge right next the Camp Rickabear was still damaged from Hurricane Irene) to the festival site. The great thing about the bus, for me, was having the chance to look at the homes and the water formations and the landscapes and the animals that adorn our town. Usually, I’m driving a car and can’t allow my eyes to wander as much as I did while on the bus.

The layout of the festival created a nice build up of excitement. First there were many non-profit agencies, like Kinnelon Conserves, Kinnelon Food Pantry, Kinnelon Volunteer Animal Shelter (with a smattering of retail companies mixed in) lined up along the walk way. The next group to catch our attention was a collection of firefighters and police officers. Captain Gail Bresett and “Sgt. Joe” Napolitano both greeted us warmly. It was impressive to see the trucks and gear on display behind them.

At some point, Wesley offered to be our “food scout” and do some reconnaissance at the food court. He found a great deal at Kinnelon Bagels—10 bagels for $3. He also learned that Il Positano and A Taste of Reality had donated food so the KHS Junior class could sell it and raise money for the prom next spring. At their booth we were able to purchase a whole pan of penne pasta in meat sauce for $10! Wesley also found free hot dogs (served by Mayor Bob Collins) and some great homemade ice cream. I found coffee from Longfellow’s---nice.

We listened to the band, watched a pie eating contest, saw tie-dyed pillow cases drying on a line, took a walk through the artists’ colony, and observed the little ones bopping up and down on ponies. We did everything but the hay ride.

Then it was time to head back to the bus pick-up spot and wait for our ride to the high school. From the high school, we walked back to the parsonage. Our trip back was harder than the trip going—this time we had a huge bag of bagels and a heavy pan of pasta to manage. But manage we did.

Thanks, Kinnelon for showing your great spirit!

With a Little Help From a Friend - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-09-27T22:50:34-04:00

I’ve learned from experience that moving into a new house is a months-long experience. A year ago, Wayne, Wesley and I moved into the church parsonage and began unpacking boxes. We spent a good 8 months to get through all of the boxes we had. The next step was organizing all of the things our boxes contained.

It made sense to put a priority on organizing the rooms that were used most often by all of us and our guests. The kitchen, dining room and living room were addressed right off.

One of the rooms that ignored until recently was my office in the parsonage. Piles of papers and boxes of materials from the three main areas of my work life (pastoring, officiating at weddings, and quilting) filled floor space, counter tops, and cabinets in such chaotic ways that nothing was easy to find. And, I found myself adding to the piles rather than putting things away because I had not yet designated spaces and files efficiently.

The task of addressing this problem seemed like and overwhelming project looming on my daily workload horizon until a chance observation came my way recently. On the first day of school, when Elder Terry Doremus and I were on site as the Growing Place Nursery School (located in the lower part of the church building) parents and staff were helping the children become familiar with their new classroom settings, something great happened.

There was a window of time when Terry and I were afforded a short break from our greeting and welcoming duties, so we went into one of the rooms used by the church for meetings and Sunday School and such. As Terry and I chatted about nothing much and everything important simultaneously, Terry did what comes naturally to her—she began cleaning up piles and boxes around the room and got things organized into workable, accessible areas. Together, we folded tables, moved equipment (and a piano!), crushed cardboard for recycling. All of a sudden, the room was larger, cleaner, and easier to work in. And, all of a sudden I realized I had found someone with whom I could address the piles and boxes and chaos in my office at the house.

This past Friday, Terry and I spent an entire day assessing, planning, cleaning and designating the shelves, cabinets and work zones in my office. Early in the process we made design plan on paper and then a shopping list attached to a clipboard. Later we headed off to Staples, followed by lunch at Applebees. When we returned, we got to work putting things together and arranging my belongings in such a way that the work zones make much more sense while also making my jobs easier to manage. I know exactly where to go for the shipping supplies when I send out quilts; I have complete confidence of finding all of the materials I need for meeting with a couple wishing to hire me as a wedding officiant; I can reach up to my right and grab my Consistory binder as easily as I can reach up to my left and grab my hymnals, or Bible, or directory of the church members.

I still have more work to do in my office, but being in my here is much more exciting, energizing, and inspiring—not to mention brighter! (Terry encouraged my to get a higher wattage in the bulbs for my light fixture.)

O happy the servant who works in a well-organized office. Thanks, Terry!

Storm Debris - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-09-18T23:21:57-04:00

Some say that Hurricane Irene will be recorded as one of the Top 10 storms in history. It’s fierce, ravaging winds and deep deluges of water have caused roads to collapse, entire towns to be submerged, electric power to be inaccessible for up to four days, and home after home to be condemned. In Kinnelon, an SUV was swallowed up as the road beneath it gave way to loosing of land that became so water-logged it could no longer sustained the weight of traffic.

In the coming weeks we will continue to hear stories of bravery and heroism, of restoration and rebuilding, of sacrifice and solidarity. If we are lucky, we will have reason to be a part of the unfolding story of how God’s people, even us, draw on a special kind of strength when times are tough and spirits are fragile. If we are lucky we will get the chance to hear a story so sad that the only response will be to say, “That’s truly awful,” and “I’m really sorry.”

I had that chance last night (Wednesday, August 31).

My son, Wesley (11) is a boy scout here in Kinnelon and we got an e-mail from one of his scout leaders that there was a need to go to a church in Pompton Plains to serve dinner for the hundreds of people in the Pequannock area whose homes are filled with water and nearly uninhabitable.

Wesley and I had a simple task of setting out silverware at place settings as one group finished eating and another was ready to sit down at the tables. Near the dinner tables was a table upon which home-made coloring books along with crayons and markers had been piled. During one of the lulls in our work, a young woman in her late teens came to me and asked if it would be okay for her to take two of the coloring books and a pack of crayons to her house because her younger brother and sister (who had been staying with relatives in another town for the past several days) would be coming back to their own home later in the evening. The young woman said that she and her parents would need to tell the younger ones that everything in their bedrooms—all of the furniture and clothing, all of their books and toys, all of their blankets and stuffed animals—had been ruined by the hurricane. “There’s nothing left for them,” the young woman said to me. “I hope these coloring books will help them during those first minutes of shock.”

I gladly answered, “Yes,” to her request, wishing I had some sort of gift card on me to give to her so she could go to a local store and get her siblings something newer and nicer and maybe more personable. It was a horribly, awkward moment. Her pain and her plea were so tender and true. My help was feeble and fleeting. All I could do was to say, “That is so awful. I’m really sorry.”

She thanked me. And she smiled. I’m still crying.

Mares Eat Oats and Goats Eat Oats - by Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-08-11T06:46:49-04:00

I walked down to the Kinnelon Library this afternoon with my son, Wesley. We had heard that Jack Stewart from Jack’s Petting Zoo was going to have a display of animals. We went looking for the display in the children’s department on the second floor because we thought it would consist of a group of smaller animals in cages, which could be placed on some table tops.

To our surprise, Jack and his pets were on display out in the back of the Library near the playground. And, there was nothing “small” about the whole event. Jack had set up two corrals: one with alpaca, big goats and baby goats, a cow and some sheep; the other with a duck, some chickens and a couple rabbits. Beyond the corrals was an area marked off for pony rides. And then there was the donkey walking around on his own.

A petting zoo is lots of fun. Jack’s Petting Zoo is GREAT. And it all comes down to Jack’s personality. Sometimes Jack was in the corrals with the animals instructing them to behave. Most of the time Jack was wandering around talking to the children, encouraging them to take some feed and offer it to a hungry critter. I noticed at least one incident of Jack taking a chicken and putting it on someone’s head.

Jack’s comfort level with his animals and his willingness to share them with Kinnelon folk was refreshing and sweet. A nice moment of summer time fun, right here in our hometown.

Black Eyed Susan - A Sermon By Lay Speaker Gary Van Schaick

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-07-31T08:15:38-04:00

We have little bit of a garden at home, maybe 30 various species of plants, both perennials and annuals, some different trees to include smoke bushes, Con Colors, Weeping Blue Atlas Cedar, Austrian Pine, Korean Fir, well you get the picture. We spend a lot of time in yard taking care of the plants and trees and it gives us peace of mind and satisfaction, it’s relaxing, attracts animals to include deer, fox, possum and the eventual Bear. We’ve come to learn which flowers have to be watched carefully because they spread quickly taking over a patch of land. Daisies are like this as are Spirea. And of course there’s the Black Eyed Susan. We started with only a couple plants about 10 years ago. Now there are so many plants we have to continually pull them out or move them elsewhere. During the late summer months when the seedpods are accessible to the birds, the birds gab the seeds and usually drop most of the seeds anywhere up to 20 feet away, sometimes further away. Over the past couple of years, we have seen an increase of weeds encroaching into the Black Eyed Susan’s. And it’s difficult to separate the weeds from the plants; the roots of both seem to inter-twine with each other.

So I can relate, at least on a small scale, to the parable in today’s scripture reading. For the most part, I’ve always insured the seeds or plants were planted in good soil, with food to grow, with good sun; I give them a good chance to grow and thrive. I try to choose plants that require very little maintenance but there always some maintenance, always some weeding, perhaps spraying of Sevin (insecticide) and perhaps a little fertilizer once in a while. This gardening is continuous work. It can also be frustrating every now and again.

And I think that Jesus was also becoming frustrated every now and again. He was doing everything right. He was fulfilling the scriptures as documented by the prophets of old. As with the prophets of old, Jesus performed miracles. This was to show the people that he in fact was from God. If you are from God, the people expected miracles and Jesus did not disappoint. He has already healed people among them paralyzed people and people with Leprosy. He’s turned water into wine, and aged wine at that, not new wine. But for many of those people who saw Jesus perform the miracles, they learned nothing. For many of those people who heard of the miracles, they did not understand.

So this parable was to further teach the masses that the kingdom of God that was upon them and to warn them at the same time. The seed of the farmer is the Word of God, the love and grace that is offered to every one by God if only you accept it. The seeds are spread by the farmer, the prophets, the leaders, the truly religious men of the time.

And the warnings to the people, the masses surrounding Jesus, are quite clear. Seeds fall on a rock hard path. Do not be like the rock hard path, the seeds that only lay on the path and are eaten by the agents of sin. Don’t harden you heart to the ways of the Lord. Open your mind and heart to a new order of business.

Seeds fall in the shallow soil only to be unable to establish roots. Don’t allow your personality to be shallow hearing the goodness of our Lord one day and turning back to your old ways a day later. Are you lukewarm in your faith? Is your faith lip service? I knew a gentleman many years ago that went on consistory because he felt his resume would look good when he ran for public office. For how often do we forget about our Lord Jesus Christ from Monday to Saturday? The bible teaches us that whatever we do, do it in the name of our Lord. We cannot have true faith without being glad to do Gods work on this Earth.

And the seeds fall into the weeds. I think you and I are most guilty of this. Our life styles are hectic. We work 8 – 10 hours a day, go home and take care of a family. We are on a computer maybe 12 hours a day. Our iPhones and Droids keep us hooked to the office 24 hours a day. Teenagers are on Facebook and Twitter perhaps 18 hours a day. Both parents of a family work just to put food on the table and pay the mortgage. Parents go to kids soccer games and baseball games, often times on a Sunday morning. On the weekends, we just want to get away from it all, sleep late and often and quite often this “getting away” does not include God or church.

God and church should be the first place we go to get away from it all, the first place to go to let down our hair, the first place to go to prevent burn out. We are personally like the flowerbed and the Black Eyed Susan’s. We need nourishment on a continuous basis, fertilizer, sun and water. We need the fertilizer of God’s word, we need the Son of God, the salvation he offers and we need the Living water. We need the good soil for the roots to develop and grow deep, to give us a strong base to withstand the worst of times. We have to hear the word that Jesus is giving us. To truly hear the words of Jesus is to believe them, to use these words immediately in decisions we make every day, to change our attitudes, to base our life on these words in our recreation and work, family plans and money matters, praying and singing. This parable was and is important just to understand our lives and our relationship with God. Jesus told the disciples that if they do not understand this parable, they would never understand any of the parables.

This parable was not only intended for the people but was also intended for the disciples as part of their training. For very soon, Jesus would not be there to sow the seeds of God’s word. The disciples will become the farmers of this seed of God. The disciples will be the leadership, the elders, the deacons, the trainers, and the Bible schoolteachers, the committee heads. As God called up the disciples he calls upon you and I to now be the farmers. We are called to spread the Word of his Grace and Love and Peace for us. And it will not be easy. We will be frustrated. We will not always succeed because there will be birds to eat our seeds that we throw, there will be weeds growing up around our seeds that take hold. We are asked by God to be his emissaries through our daily living. Two weeks ago Pastor Beverly told a story of a man stopping for a cup of coffee. Instead of being charged for that cup of coffee, the storeowner said no charge just pass the good will to some other person. Pay it forward. God accepts small successes. Pastor Beverly has more stories of small successes on our blog . For every small seed that is planted in good soil it can grow 30 fold, 60 fold, 100 fold.

Perhaps our faith has to be ever stronger now because of the challenges of the society that we live in. There is so much negative that even we question “why”. Natural disasters are causing death , destruction and pain and suffering. Where is the good today. NBC news has so very little. We search hard to find the good stories. Jesus had an edge in the miracles that he performed. Perhaps what we need is something, an edge (reminds me of the Ford commercial) a story that not only strengthens our faith but also is amazing enough in today’s society that it will capture the minds and imagination of at least a few people, will plant a few seeds in good soil.

I have a story for you. To me it’s a story that God is alive and well in this world. To me, it’s a story of God’s unconditional Love and his unconditional Grace. There a line in the Hymn Amazing Grace that says “God saves a wretch like me” and this story comes pretty close to that. To me this story is some sort of miracle because there is no way all the people in the story could ever be at the right place at the right time with the right tools unless there is a very strong guiding hand from above. I have told this story many times, 30 - 40 and the reactions are rather the same. First a quiet…a hush…than a response. And the responses are all something like:

That is an amazing story
You must have an angel on your shoulder
You must have an angel looking over you
Someone up there is watching over you
God must not want you yet!
God must not be through with you here on Earth

I’ve come to find quite few people repeating this story. And they call it an “amazing story”, not my words. And these people also implore me not to stop telling this story. So this story has already touched a few people and their lives.

But you can be the judge of this story. You can judge the effect this story may have on your life. Joe, one of the heroes of the story almost immediately started going to exercise and started watching the food intake to live a healthier life. His wife says he’s no fun any more. The nurses at the Cardiac Rehab center continue to talk of this story. But as you listen to this story, first think about your relationship with God. Could your relationship with God use a little renewal? Does this story give you more faith, more strength to live your life in God. And than think how you might tell this story yourself. Could this story be the edge you need to talk with your neighbor or friend about God. Would your co-workers listen to this story as you stand around the water cooler and gossip?

February 2 was a cold day. It was one of those freezing rain and than snow days. Around noontime I went out, got out the snow blower and cleared away as much of the ice and snow as I could. My next-door neighbor, Joe, and I exchange a few words about how terrible this winter is. This is the extent of my own memory of that day; all the rest of the story is what was told to me later.

I returned the snow blower to the shed and started to clear the ice using an ice chopper. Robin was outside of the garage, which was a little strange. Normally we split up to do the snow cleaning function. She may be in the backyard and me in the front. But this day she was almost right next to me. I collapsed right in front of her.

Joe, a Police Detective, who I come to find out later from his wife, never, comes home for lunch. He came home for lunch this day. And he was outside when I collapsed. Upon hearing Robin scream, he looked down over the wall between our properties, saw me on the ground, went to his unmarked police car, and called in to the Dispatch for the EMT. Upon terminating the call to the dispatch a thought came to him. “Shovel snow…heart attack”. He immediately went back to the Dispatch and called in possible heart attack.

He jumped down over our wall, about a 10 ft drop, and raced over to me, noticed there was no respiration and no pulse and started CPR. Joe had just completed his recertification about three weeks prior. And that recertification was in the new format of hands-only CPR.

While Joe was giving me CPR, the Dispatch, acting on the second radio call from Joe, dispatched a patrol car. The patrol cars have portable difib units in them since the patrol car is always the first responder to emergencies where there is a possible heart attack. The patrol car arrived at our home in minutes and very quickly the difib was strapped to me and they zapped me, twice. My pulse and respiration was restored. The EMT arrived 5 – 10 minutes later. I was without a pulse or respiration for maybe 10 or 15 minutes, only the CPR kept me alive.

And the story doesn’t end here. The EMT crew was the most experienced of all the crews.

My neighbor on the opposite side is a nurse trainer and was on duty in the ER at the Denville hospital. Her husband called her and told her I was in the ambulance on the way in. And the way it was explained to me, practically all the doctors in the hospital were there, waiting for me.

The cardiologist that was on duty was not only one of the best in NJ, but he is described as being able to place a stint anywhere near the heart. By the evening, I have been transferred to the cardiac wing at Morristown, went into the operating room and had the main artery cleaned and repaired.

But the story doesn’t end here. Healing had to start and even here I had help. Robin called to some dear friends of ours, Rich and Marilyn. They came to the hospital and Robin signed them in as “family”. As you can image she needed the comfort and strength of friends. Marilyn is a Reiki Practitioner.

Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by "laying on hands" and is based on the idea that an unseen "life force energy" flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one's "life force energy" is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy. The word Reiki is made of two Japanese words - Rei which means "God's Wisdom or the Higher Power" and Ki which is "life force energy". So Reiki is actually "spiritually guided life force energy."

Marilyn gave me several hours of Reiki. And I truly believe that this transfer of energy from Marilyn to me was instrumental in my starting to recover putting my body on the “right path”. Weeks later, and a few tests later, there was no evidence of damage to my lungs, no broken ribs due to the CPR (which in itself is strange), no brain damage from lack of oxygen, (doesn’t take into account my brain damage from too much beer), and no damage to my heart. In fact the Nuclear stress test didn’t even show evidence that there ever was a heart attack or heart stoppage.

The story doesn’t end with me being out of the hospital. And the story really is not about me, I’m only the subject. I’m not the hero, that’s for all the other people that were at the right place at the right time with the right tools. And this is where I get stuck sometimes. Is there a plan for me, a reason for me to still be here? I am certainly no less a sinner than the next person. So far I can only think that I am here to tell you about an amazing God! A God that is alive even today! And he’s doing Good things. He is the God that offers to anyone his amazing Grace and unconditional love. And we are to strengthen ourselves and pass this along, pay it forward.

Amen

In Hawaii, We call them Menehunes - by Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-07-25T20:09:01-04:00

I spent part of my childhood in Hawaii because my father was in the Marine Corps. Hawaii offers a rich bounty of different ideas, foods, dress, and even folklore. One of the myths of Hawaii is that there are a group of people, sometimes described as dwarfs, who live in the fertile forests and hidden valleys. These people are not visible to the naked eyes of humans. These people are called Menehune (pronounced meh-ne-HOO-neh).

It was thought that these pixie-like creatures would go through the places where we lived and move things or take things or even clean things up. So it is not surprising that the image of menehune came to mind recently here in Kinnelon.

Just a few days ago, someone from the neighborhood must have used the dumpster on the property for disposing of trash. This, in itself, is not a problem. It became a problem when the lid of the dumpster was not put back down and the scent of the garbage was allowed to waft through the air, attracting the notice of a hungry mamma bear and her three young cubs. The bears did what bears do when they find a feast to dig through—they ransacked the trash and created a big, messy pile on the asphalt. Then, as they lumbered off through other properties, they dragged the garbage alongside themselves, making a stinky trail of litter as they went.

Wayne and I returned from separate errands sometime after the bears had their lunch and heard about them from Wayne’s son, Josh, who came upon the ursine family while taking a stroll outside. The three of us spent a few minutes discussing Josh’s near-bear experience and made plans to clean up the remains. About 15 minutes later, Wayne peeked outside his office window to survey the damage one last time before taking care of it and was absolutely shocked at the view he saw. Every bit of the trash was already cleaned up—and it wasn’t by any of us. Someone, somehow, quietly arrived and made all the ripped up, strewn-apart debris completely disappear. Amazing.

Maybe it was the menehune.

Church Chatting - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-07-03T09:53:34-04:00

I was buying fabric at a local A.C. Moore store recently. The clerk who was ringing up my sale commented on how I must really be into sewing since I was purchasing so much fabric. Normally, would have begun blabbing about how I make a lot of quilts and sell them on line and yadda, yadda, yadda. This day, I just quietly responded with, “Yes. I like quilting.”

A moment passed and then she looked up at me and told me about how, when she lived in Pennsylvania with her husband before he died, she did a lot of quilting with a group from her church. She missed that she said. The pastor in me wanted to ask her about her husband and his illness and his death and how she was handling everything, but the pastor in me also knew there were several people in line behind me waiting to be checked out.

Instead, I remembered that one of our congregants, Ginny Haas, is organizing a new fellowship group at the church, called The Needlers. I told this woman about how the Needlers would be meeting twice a month, starting in September, and that anyone who was interested in any kind of needlework could join. Not only was she interested, but so was the sales clerk at the next register as well as a couple customers in line. They wanted to know which church this was and how they could get information. (I promised I would bring a flyer to the store when I had one.)

This whole experience reminded me of how easy it is to tell people about church…our church. Most times, all we have to do is respond to something they tell us about themselves.

It's On;y A Little Blood - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-06-06T22:40:34-04:00

Last week I saw the announcement on the Kinnelon Library marquis about the upcoming blood drive and I got pretty excited. I’ve been donating blood for years and was glad to have the chance to start doing it in my new hometown.

To prepare, I made sure to eat a lot of iron-rich food all week and gave some thought to an outfit that I could wear to a Communion visit to a shut-in in the morning and also to the blood drive in the afternoon.

Today was the day. Everything went well. I could answer all of the questions easily; my iron level was high enough and my blood pressure was low. I squeezed the ball every 5 seconds as prescribed and the blood flowed nicely. It was one of the best donating experiences yet.

After the “drawing” time was done I could go to the snack table—always a favorite place. I noticed that, on the table, in addition to packs of cookies and juice cans, there were some books for kids. I asked the lady sitting at the table with me what the books were all about and she said that, as a thank-you from the library for the blood donation, I could put my name on a label and adhere the label to the inside of the book so everyone would know the book was provided by me. How cool! I chose a book on the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution.

The woman at the table happened to be Barbara Owens, the Director of the Library. Through our conversation over cookies we got to know one another and she told me about the summer reading program for the kids in town and about a First-Thursday-of-the-Month Book Club that will be starting Mr. Pettigrew’s Last Stand in July.

Interesting how a sacrifice of a pint of blood can yield a storehouse of reading for me and my family. Thanks Kinnelon Public Library!

God, Bless America - Pastor Beverley

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-05-30T22:15:48-04:00

I didn’t expect to be moved by the Tri-Boro Memorial Day Parade this morning, but I was. I met up with Barbara Sisco, one member of three-generation family dedicated to community service in Kinnelon, and stood along the newly designated “Frank the Barber” Boulevard, waiting for the initial sirens to signal the beginning of the procession. Once the sirens had gone past us, I could hear the brass, woodwinds and the tympani of the Butler High School marching band inspiring us to sing “Louie, Louie, oh baby, we gotta go, Aye-yi-yi-yi” in our heads. How silly for this to be the reason I felt a tightness in my chest and on cheeks and the start of tears welling in my eyes. I was touched. Was it the powerful sense of patriotism and national pride that streamed along the parade route? Was it the maternal tenderness stemming from the knowledge that my son would be walking past me with his Boy Scout troop? Was it the camaraderie evoked by neighbors and friends who came to support firefighters, police people, old mayors and young Brownies (to mention only a few) who volunteered their time this morning just as they volunteer their time and expertise for the safety and security of the residents in these small towns? I answer “yes” to all of these questions. How could I possibly keep myself from being moved to tears? I just hope nobody noticed.

Growing Great Fun - Pastor Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-05-23T21:28:10-04:00

The Growing Place (GP) is the name of the nursery school we have here at the Reformed Church in Kinnelon. It is housed right in the church building and nurtures creative and spiritual learning for children 2 ½ to 5.

The other day, as I was working on my sermon at a desk in the living room, I looked out the window to see a classroom of GP children, with teacher/director Demet Bilter and a classroom aide, walking out to the pond on the property. They came to an opening in the brush along the water’s wedge and gathered there as Mrs. Bilter, who was holding something in her palm, talked to them in her energetic and spirited way. Then Mrs. Bilter held her hand out and off her palm jumped a froggy heading to the water. The children waved to the frog as they said their goodbyes. For a few more moments, the whole gang stood and watched the frog explore its new surrounding. Finally, they headed back inside and I returned to my work.

I learned later that the frog was one of several frogs that have been donated to the Growing Place from a student’s grandmother who happens to be a school science teacher. Thank you, Grandma S. for your gift of hands-on learning for our kids!

Now That's What I Call Service - Paster Beverly

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-05-12T20:09:43-04:00

I received a phone call this morning (Thursday, May 12, 2011) asking about delivery of my subscription to the Suburban Trends, which I recently started. I was glad to get the call because I hadn’t been getting the paper. I missed the call, but the customer service person gave so much detail about delivery and route that I was able to hear where the problem existed. It seems that the courier had our address as 150 Kinnelon Road and not 151. I made a return call and left a message with the corrected information. It occurred to me that the customer service person might decide to just inform the courier of the mistake and leave it at that. But she didn’t. Susan returned my call. We chatted about the mistake. She said she would take care of the problem and that I would get a paper on Sunday. She even said my account would be credited for the days I had no delivery.

That call was about an hour ago. About 15 minutes ago I heard a car pull up outside the house, a person get out, and a “plop” on my doorstep. The person went back to the car and drove away. When I went to my front door and looked down, there was yesterday’s copy of the Trends. And, for good measure, a copy of Sunday’s edition was underneath it.

That’s service! Nicely done.

Help In a Small Town - the Postal Clerks - Pastor Beverly Sullivant

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-05-07T12:50:10-04:00

One surprise to me when I became a pastor here in Kinnelon was the fact that it is such a small town that it doesn’t even its own Post Office. This means that I need to drive to a surrounding town on the several days each week that I ship quilts and fabric out to those who buy my wares on my Etsy shop.

My Post Office of choice is in Butler. And my favorite clerks at the Butler PO are Carol and Jenardin (who, by the way, both celebrated the 25th anniversaries of working there in the middle of March).

Carol is amazing with paperwork. She knows every form for every package size and destination and can get me processed with it during the average wait at her counter. What I mean is that she tells me to “write to and from, what it is and the weight, and sign right there.” I do what she says, run my credit card through the machine, and am on my way. The whole time, she and I are having a quick conversation about my recent sales or events at the church and, yet, the people behind me are not delayed by a laborious paperwork process.

Jenardin is my guy for finding a less expensive way for me to ship something. If Jenardin could have his way, I would be shoving a 9-pound quilt (which barely fits in a 12X10X8 Ready-Ship carton) into a large flat-rate box. I keep telling him it won’t fit, but it doesn’t stop him from making the suggestion each time I’m at his counter.

Yesterday was his time to shine, however. I was shipping a bundle of fabric in a small Priority box. Jenardin told me that it was the WRONG Priority box and that it would cost me more than $10.00 to ship unless I transferred the contents into a Priority box with the words “Flat-Rate” on it (who knew there was a difference?). Then Jenardin took a Flat-Rate envelope, put my “too expensive” box in it, sealed it up, had me address it, and was able to charge my only $4.95. I think Jenardin was more excited than I was about the cost savings.

I have more packages to take to Butler this afternoon. Can’t wait!

Doing Dishes - Pastor Beverly Sullivant

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-05-01T12:45:25-04:00

For most of the years that Wayne and I have been married, he has done the dishes. When we moved into the Kinnelon parsonage in September, I decided that I wanted to have the dishes as one of my chores. And, I decided, I don’t want to use the dishwasher to get my chore accomplished.

Each morning, while the coffee is brewing and before I begin my morning-prayer routine, I wash, by hand, all of the dishes from the night before. I turn the water way up high to get it really hot and then adjust it to a more reasonable setting. I pump detergent onto my sponge, releasing the aroma of lavender (my scent of choice throughout the house), and I get to the work of scrubbing every plate, glass, utensil, pot, pan and bowl.

At some point, the “chore” turns into a rhythm and, as I place a freshly-cleaned item in its proper place on the drying mat, I gain a pleasure in the momentary accomplishment that that action provides. As a colleague puts it, “I found washing the dishes to be calming. It wasn't something I could rush through and there wasn't anything else I could do but wash the dishes. I had to slow down, focus and be present.”

That’s exactly how I feel. I am present in the task of scrubbing and suds-ing and rinsing and placing. I like to count how many glasses I’ve washed and think about the many times Wesley gabbed a glass of milk or poured himself a bit of soda. I like to look at the casserole dishes and be reminded of how great Wayne is at pulling leftovers from the fridge and turning them into a meal we can’t finish quickly enough.

Sometimes, however, I am not as present as I ought to be. I go on some sort of dishwashing auto-pilot and I experience a highway hypnosis absence from my task. I’ll look over at the drying mat and see piles of plates or forks or cups I’ll have no recollection of having cleaned. When this happens, I don’t grouse about having to check everything to make sure I’ve done the job properly. Instead, I smile at the inner pleasure of knowing that the meditative moment I entered into when my mind went away from the work means that I am in much better shape for the next item on my daily agenda—preparing a prayer.

Into The Woods and Beyond the Pond-Beverly Sullivant

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-04-29T17:01:03-04:00

Yesterday was “Take Your Child To Work Day.” Wayne and I were made aware of this when Wesley presented us with a note about it from the Stonybrook principal on Wednesday evening. Although Wayne and I have known of this concept, in general, for some years, it’s never been something we actually considered doing. So, this time we considered it. And, Wesley helped us consider it. And in the considering, Wes realized that going to work with one or both parents who have offices at home is…actually…very much like staying home. I could tell he was savoring the idea of an extra vacation day so soon after returning from Spring Break. Even so, I think he was a bit afraid to admit that wanted to do it. It was just too easy a choice. But, choose he did and on Thursday morning he and Wayne walked up to the bus stop to let the bus driver know that Wesley was going to go to work with mom and would not be taking the bus to, or home from, school that day.
After I was dressed and downstairs at my desk, I called out to Wesley that my schedule for the day included praying for the congregation, writing a prayer and sending it out via e-mail, riding my bike to Borough Hall, stopping at the library and then at the Wise Owl, driving to Lake Mohawk to visit a sick friend, reading some scripture commentary, and doing other fun pastor-y things. I heard Wesley say to Wayne, “Could you tell mom I went to school?” The reality was setting in.
I let him be at his own computer while I did the prayers and worked through some commentaries on Doubting Thomas, but he joined me on the bike trip to Borough Hall and other places. To make the day more interesting, I took him for the buffet lunch at the Peking House in Butler—one of our favorite things to do. He loves that place as long as the woman who owns it doesn’t make him try strange, new Chinese deserts.
The highlight of the day came when he and I put our creative energies together and mapped out, rehearsed and then filmed a video about my quilting business. I’m rather impressed with his direction and camera work.
I love being around Wesley and having the chance to do it while also doing my work was a really blessing.

Into The Woods and Beyond the Pond-Beverly Sullivant

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-04-28T17:00:04-04:00

Wesley (my 11-year-old son) came home from school this past Tuesday with a look of panic and delight on his face. “There are bears outside!” Sure enough, two black bear were plodding their way across the second of the church’s two parking lots and were heading toward the backyard of the nearest neighbor. Before I could even think about the fact that the bears were in the parking lots at the same time Wesley needed to walk from the bus stop to the parsonage, he blurted out, “Mrs. Courter (Louise Courter, owner of the Wise Owl Learning Center across the street) had to give me a ride to the house.” It seems that when the bus dropped him off at the edge of the property, Louise and some high school students in the middle of a run, alerted him to the bear and told him not to move. Louise then got into her car, drove across the street, had Wesley get into her car, and then drove him up to our front door.
As Wes, along with my husband Wayne and Wesley’s older brothers Josh and Cory, ran around getting photographs of the wildlife among us, I was pondering the delight of the moment. The first delight was the calm I felt when faced with the reality of living in bear country. The second delight was learning how great my neighbors could be. The third delight was seeing Wesley embrace another new and interesting aspect of life in Kinnelon.

Into The Woods and Beyond the Pond - Beverly Sullivant

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2011-04-27T16:58:39-04:00

It’s been a couple of days, but I still have an Easter glow going on in my world. I wake with excitement, I feel a joyous calm, I can’t wait to get to the task of writing my sermon for next Sunday. There’s just something about Easter that brings me to a state of bliss. And, this Easter, I have lots of new things about which to be blissful. I am so grateful for:

the break in the rain and then the sunshine and blue skies that greeted us as we gathered by the pond to start our Easter worship;
the breakfast that the Men’s Group provided for everyone;
the change of décor in the sanctuary revealing a host of butterflies to represent the Resurrection;
the knowledge that someone rose very early to change our signboard so that motorists read, “Rise and Shine and Give God Your Glory, Glory;”
the lingering harmonies of the Good Friday Cantata and the reminder of how preparing for the Cantata made this Lent more meaningful;
so much more.

He Is Risen…still.

Pass me a cup of New Wine - A Sermon by Lay Speaker Gary Van Schaick

garyvs@vanschaickphoto.com — 2010-08-05T18:21:21-04:00

Gospel Reading Luke 5: 33-39

33One day some people said to Jesus, “John the Baptist’s disciples fast and pray regularly, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees. Why are your disciples always eating and drinking?”
34Jesus responded, “Do wedding guests fast while celebrating with the groom? Of course not. 35But someday the groom will be taken away from them, and then they will fast.”
36Then Jesus gave them this illustration: “No one tears a piece of cloth from a new garment and uses it to patch an old garment. For then the new garment would be ruined, and the new patch wouldn’t even match the old garment.
37“And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the new wine would burst the wineskins, spilling the wine and ruining the skins. 38New wine must be stored in new wineskins. 39But no one who drinks the old wine seems to want the new wine. ‘The old is just fine,’ they say.”

Tom was content! While that might seem like a virtue it ruined Tom’s life. He was chronically, pathologically content. At his workplace he was always content with what he had. He never bothered to develop his skills and become a more valuable employee because they still paid him for what he was currently doing. Management actually liked him because he never complained about working conditions or wages or staff morale; he was content with his career. He didn’t have any hobbies or any passions in life because he was content to do nothing with his spare time with his life. Tom was content with life. Tom’s wife absolutely loved him. He was a nice man. He was kind and gentle and loving. He treated her well and cared for her. He wasn’t the least bit demanding; he was content with his marriage. Tom’s kids thought he was a cool dad. He would go with them to their sporting events or concerts. He was always there, silently rooting for his kids but never upset if they lost or performed poorly; he was content. The leaders of his kids’ activities loved Tom because he would willingly help out and if he was taken advantage of or misled and got the short end of the stick he never complained; he was content with his family life. Tom went to a church that was exactly like Tom, content. His church’s Vision and Mission was simple. It consisted of only four words, but those four words describe the heart of God’s call to His people. Their Vision and Mission? Love God, Love People. Isn’t that an excellent Vision and Mission? Only four words, actually, only three different words with one word repeated. The problem wasn’t the official Vision and Mission, the problem, as it usually is, was the unofficial interpretations of the Vision and Mission. The unofficial interpretation was that the people of the church would love God as much as they currently did and not seek to grow in that love; they were content in their love of God. They would also love those people who were at the church and care for them but they never got around to loving those who weren’t part of the church or who weren’t coming but might like to; they were content to love the people they currently loved. So they looked after themselves and cared for one another and hired pastors to marry and bury their own and the community around them didn’t receive any ministry from them. They were content in having the Pastor do everything. Even though there were people responsible for the spiritual well being and spiritual growth, they were content in having the Pastor do it. Even though there were people responsible for the physical attributes of the church, it was the Pastor who met the plumber, piano tuner or Fire Marshall. They were content in their faith and Tom fit in well because he too was content in his faith.

There was no growth in the church nor in Tom’s spiritual life.

Our scripture lesson takes place in Luke’s gospel right after Levi the tax collector was called to be one of Jesus’ disciples which we find beginning in Luke 5:27. Levi left everything – gave up his business which commentators and biblical scholars tell us was a lucrative business and gave his life to following Jesus. Levi went from being one of the captains of industry and business to walking around the countryside living with and listening to a radical rabbi preach. When this happened in Levi’s life he saw it as the greatest thing that ever happened to him and threw a party to celebrate, invited all his old tax collector friends to join him, and, presumably, for them to have a chance to meet Jesus.

This is a pretty good reason to have a party. When God does something awesome we need to celebrate it. I don’t think our bent toward somberness and severity advertises our God in the most positive light. Well some of the Pharisees either saw this party or were at this party and they confronted Jesus, “What’s the big idea, partying and carrying on with sinners and tax gatherers? You’re a rabbi, for goodness sakes, you have no business celebrating; you need to be serious and severe. What’s more you will contaminate yourself by associating with sinners and tax collectors. If you hang around with people like that you get a reputation. You need to hang around respectable and holy people like us in order to build your reputation.” They thought that Jesus should be like people in Tom’s church, content to love those they already knew and those who already loved the Lord. Jesus answered them and I understand Him to have said, “I understand that you’ve never been around a party of sinners before. But God really loves the sinners and He really wants a relationship with them. They’re the reason why I came.” Healthy people do not need a doctor, sick people need a doctor. But they wouldn’t let it go. This time they went after the disciples. But Jesus did not want the disciples put in the idle of the discussion, not yet. Their training was only beginning. The Pharisees came back at him in verse 33 and said, “You know your cousin John, John the Baptist? He’s a pretty radical rabbi too, you know. But his disciples, they fast and pray. He’s pretty hot stuff too you know. How come his disciples practice the holiness codes of the Teachers of the Law but somehow you and your disciples are above the law? Oh, and the disciples of the Pharisees, they fast too. How come your disciples are the only ones who don’t care about being holy the way the Law of Moses says they should be holy. Who do you think you are that the rules of the Law of Moses don’t apply to you?”

So what do we have in our scripture reading?

1.We have complaints about not fasting
2. We have complaints about not being like John the Baptist
3. Two parables

Well First – What is fasting? Fasting is the laying aside of food for a period of time when the believer is seeking to know God in a deeper experience. It is to be done as an act before God in the privacy of one's own pursuit of God (Exodus 34:28; 1 Samuel 7:6; 1 Kings 19:8; Matthew 6:17).

Fasting is to be done with the object of seeking to know God in a deeper experience (Isaiah 58; Zechariah. 7:5). Fasting relates to a time of confession (Psalm 69:10). Fasting can be a time of seeking a deeper prayer experience and drawing near to God in prevailing prayer (Ezra 8:23; Joel 2:12). The early church often fasted in seeking God's will for leadership in the local church (Acts 13:2). When the early church wanted to know the mind of God, there was a time of prayer and fasting. Even John Wesley says "First, let [fasting] be done unto the Lord with our eye singly fixed on Him. Let our intention herein be this, and this alone, to glorify our Father which is in heaven."

So fasting and prayer go together. There was only one fasting prescribed by law, that to be observed on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. The religious Jews boasted in the fact that they fasted twice a week – this showed their superior spirituality.
Second - of all there is one very good and somewhat obvious reason why Jesus and John were so different. John the Baptist was from the Essene community of Judaism. The Essenes were among the most conservative and separated of all the Jewish groups. They practiced a very disciplined form of Judaism. For John to wear coats of camel skins and eat locusts and wild honey didn’t stick out that much among the Essenes. Jesus was not part of the Essenes. He was God and He did things differently. we need to know that the Essene Community was the group that copied the Dead Sea Scrolls. They were extremely dedicated to the Law of Moses and they copied it faithfully and accurately and preserved it so that it could be discovered 2000 years later by a shepherd boy throwing rocks into a cave.
But Jesus went on to say something less direct than this more obvious answer of mine. He knew that the Pharisees knew John was an Essene. So Jesus went on to say in verse 34, “You all need to learn when to party. When someone has just made a 180 degree turn in their life from following hard after the ways of Caesar to following hard after the ways of God, that is not the time to get all serious and severe and stiff upper lipped. That’s the time to party. When there’s a wedding, no one fasts. But after the wedding’s over there’s still time to fast. When God Himself is living among you in human form – this is the only time this will ever happen in history – that is not the time to fast; that is the time to party. When God in human form is no longer living among you, believe me, you will have plenty of opportunity and plenty of need to fast.” Weddings have always been times of celebration and times when we eat and drink lots. They are joyful celebrations. Weddings have never been times of fasting, not then and certainly not now. In responding to the fasting he was responding to the Jewish religion as a whole. The Torah went much further than just fasting. There are 613 rules mostly Do Not’s. The Jewish religion was based on these Laws. The Laws of Moses prescribed at a time when the Hebrews needed strict guidance. Times change! Generations change! The laws did not. The Pharisees believed that they were to reach Heaven through the keeping of the Laws, fasting twice a week, it was their deeds that would grant them passage.

The Gospel that Jesus came to preach could not be contained within such a formal, rigid set of rules. The Good News of the Kingdom would need to find more pliable vessels. There would need to be a willingness to be changed. Jesus was offering the Grace of God in lieu of the Laws of Moses. By simply performing good deeds would not give the people of Israel the ultimate goal.

Then Jesus told them two parables and left them with one afterthought. And now remember that Jesus told parables that related directly to his audience. If Jesus was amidst farmers, the parable was about farming. Here Jesus is among party goers, dressed nicely and drinking perhaps heavily

The first parable was the parable about the patch. He said something they all knew. No one, if they have torn their old work jeans will grab their new pair of jeans and cut a piece out of the new jeans to use to repair the old work jeans. It’s just not going to happen. I realize things have changed somewhat now compared to then but the most obvious thing that would happen is that your new jeans now have a hole in them. What’s more if the material in your new jeans had not shrunk, when it was sown to the old work jeans it would shrink and tear an even bigger hold in the old work jeans.

Jesus’ arrival on Earth was the dawning of a new covenant between God and mankind. The New Covenant called for a new way of expressing personal faith. The newness of the gospel could not be combined with the legalism of the Pharisees any more than a piece of cloth from a new garment should be used to patch an old garment. What this means it that Jesus did not come to patch up the old religious system of Judaism with its rules and traditions. His purpose was to fulfill the law and start something new, though it had been prophesied for centuries. The “new” cannot fit with the “old” patterns of thought. Jesus Christ, God’s Son, came to earth to offer people forgiveness of sins and reconciliation with God. The gospel did not fit into the old rigid legalistic system of religion. The gospel offered grace; Judaism offered law and rule keeping.

The second parable Jesus told them was just as sensible to the people of that time as the first. He said that no one puts new wine into old wine skins because if you do the old wine skins will break and you will lose both the wine and the skins. At that time, the people literally stored their wine in the skins of animals. Usually it was the front part of the animal and the where the skin narrowed to the neck was where the opening was for the wine to be poured in and out of the skin. In the days of Jesus, glass, ceramic or clay bottles were rare, owned only by the wealthy. The juice was squeezed from the grapes and immediately stored in the skins and not in barrels, vats or bottles like we do today. As the juice fermented into wine it would expand and put pressure on the skins which needed to stretch to accommodate the wine. New wine skins could do that and they would stretch. But when a skin was stretched to its maximum and more new wine was added at that point, it wouldn’t be able to stretch any further and would burst and both the skin and the wine would be lost. Everyone knew the things Jesus told them in these two parables. But what more do we know of this NEW WINE? What is the importance? We can take clues from the Old Testament.

 Genesis 27:28 “From the dew of heaven and the richness of the earth, may God always give you abundant harvests of grain and bountiful new wine.
 Numbers 18:12 “I also give you the harvest gifts brought by the people as offerings to the Lord—the best of the olive oil, new wine, and grain.
 Deuteronomy 7:13 He will love you and bless you, and he will give you many children. He will give fertility to your land and your animals. When you arrive in the land he swore to give your ancestors, you will have large harvests of grain, new wine, and olive oil, and great herds of cattle, sheep, and goats.
 Deuteronomy 14:23 Bring this tithe to the designated place of worship—the place the Lord your God chooses for his name to be honored—and eat it there in his presence. This applies to your tithes of grain, new wine, olive oil, and the first born males of your flocks and herds. Doing this will teach you always to fear the Lord your God.
 2 Chronicles 31:5 The people of Israel responded immediately and generously by bringing the first of their crops and grain, new wine, olive oil, honey, and all the produce of their fields.
 Nehemiah 10:37 We will store the produce in the storerooms of the Temple of our God. We will bring the best of our flour and other grain offerings, the best of our fruit, and the best of our new wine and olive oil. And we promise to bring to the Levites a tenth of everything our land produces, for it is the Levites who collect the tithes in all our rural towns.
 Job 32:19 I am like a cask of wine without a vent, like a new wineskin ready to burst!
 Psalm 4:7 You have given me greater joy than those who have abundant harvests of grain and new wine.
 Isaiah 36:17 Then I will arrange to take you to another land like this one—a land of grain and new wine, bread and vineyards.
 Isaiah 62:8 The Lord has sworn to Jerusalem by his own strength:“I will never again hand you over to your enemies. Never again will foreign warriors come and take away your grain and new wine.
 Jeremiah 31:12 They will come home and sing songs of joy on the heights of Jerusalem. They will be radiant because of the Lord’s good gifts—the abundant crops of grain, new wine, and olive oil, and the healthy flocks and herds. Their life will be like a watered garden, and all their sorrows will be gone.
 Hosea 2:8 She doesn’t realize it was I who gave her everything she has—the grain, the new wine, the olive oil; I even gave her silver and gold. But she gave all my gifts to Baal. But now I will take back the ripened grain and new wine I generously provided each harvest season. I will take away the wool and linen clothing I gave her to cover her nakedness.
 Joel 2:19 The Lord will reply, “Look! I am sending you grain and new wine and olive oil, enough to satisfy your needs. You will no longer be an object of mockery among the surrounding nations.
 Zechariah 9:17 How wonderful and beautiful they will be! The young men will thrive on abundant grain, and the young women
 Matthew 26:29 Mark my words—I will not drink wine again until the day I drink it new with you in my Father’s Kingdom.”
 Luke 22:20 After supper he took another cup of wine and said, “This cup is the new covenant between God and his people—an agreement confirmed with my blood, which is poured out as a sacrifice for you.
New wine in New wineskins is a very important concept understood by all during that age based on history, traditions and the basic necessities of life. 2 Corinthians tells us that when we accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior, we become a new creation, the old has gone, the new has come. We are the new wineskins desirous of the new wine from God.

We cannot bring the old ways of life into our new life without causing destruction. We have been given new life, a new start in life. Why would we want to bring any of the old life into the new.

We are tempted to think that these issues were problems of Jesus’ time and not our own, but unfortunately it has a way of raising its head again and again. For example, in Paul’s time he is constantly challenged by the Jews as to why he wasn't imposing the Jewish regulations on his Gentile converts. (Ac 15) Again and again he had to insist that we are free in Christ and must not become entangled in a legalistic religion trying to pass itself off as Christianity. We must do things in a new way with Christ as our guide.

Jesus insisted the gospel must not be hindered by the man-made rules of the Pharisees' religion. It must be free to work its power. Still we have to understand that the new wine may not be as smooth and finely aged as old wine. It may be a bit sharp and unrefined. A little rough around the edges we may say. That’s why it may be offensive to some, but it’s alive and has power

The last verse is the one concerning the “old wine is good” or the “old wine is better” I like it, it’s good, and why should I change? We are never more human than when we are resisting change. The only time we embrace change is when the pain of the status quo becomes too great. If we are content we will not change. Look at anything that needs to change in our world and ask why they don’t change. Without fail the reason will be because too many people are content with the present system. We have to think, what are the structures of our own age, Our own church, our own life where are we rigid and resistant to change. Where have we tried to sew the pieces of Christianity that we like, into our own life without getting rid of our old ways? Are we more comfortable with our old traditions because we are used to them and are uncomfortable to change? We hear ourselves saying “We never did it that way before!” These seven words are common throughout modern day religion. These seven words are often referred to as the death of a church. Do we sing the same songs, feel comfortable with the liturgies, the prayers, the way the sermons are presented, the way people dress, even sitting in the same seat every week.

I picked this scripture passage three weeks ago. Or should I say it picked me. I tell Arlene I need 4 weeks to prepare to preach. Three weeks to become inspired, a week to write; three weeks to allow God to point me in the direction he wants me to go. And so it was here. The Reformed Church In Kinnelon has some major changes coming up. I was working with this scripture reading before the announcement of Beverly becoming our Pastor. In fact this Sermon was 80% complete when the announcement was published. Some of you know that my computer at home has a 30 inch monitor, primarily for editing photos but it also allows me to have two software programs - two documents open to look at side by side. So here I am staring at the email on the left and my sermon on the right. I’m thinking of changes that Beverly might bring. I’m looking at the changes that I just typed into the word document where Jesus is effectively saying stop dwelling on that way we did things and start looking at new ways of doing things. Coincidence? Devine Interference? The Pharisees were old wineskins who became useless to God. They did not receive his precious word; nor did they try to understand Jesus’ heart. They were proud, stubborn, and legalistic. They could not hear his message. They didn’t agree with Jesus’ interpretation of the kingdom of God. And what about us, our personal lives, our families, our church family. After all we are a household of Faith. Are we new wineskins ready to receive the new wine? Are we pliable, able to stretch with the fermentation and development of the new wine?

In the RCA, we believe that we are saved by grace alone through faith, not by what we think or do to earn God's favor. Our good works don't earn our salvation, but are a way to thank God for this free gift of salvation. This is the New Wine in New Wineskins. How do WE say Thanks to God for those things he has given us, those things that are so undeserved, but still given to us anyway through the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.