If we are not thankful then we can become bitter. If we are not thankful, then it becomes too easy to sit around and ponder the question: why me?

Dr. Jim Moore, pastor of St. Luke's UMC in Houston wrote a book entitled "You Can Grow Bitter or You Can Grow Better". He writes that he got the idea for the title from a young woman who once came to him in a most tragic moment in her life. She had tears in her eyes and her knuckles were white as she twisted a handkerchief. She had just received word that her twenty-six year old husband had been killed in a farming accident, leaving her alone with three pre-school age children. One moment he was alive and vibrant, the next moment gone. "I don't know how I am going to be able to get along without him," she sobbed. "But I do know one thing. I can either get bitter or I can get better."

One way that we can get better rather than bitter is to develop a thankful heart. We must learn to be grateful to the Lord with whom we shall spend eternity. Our morning prayer should always begin: O Thou who has given me so much, I pray that you give me yet one more thing--a grateful heart.

The renown teacher and author Dr. David McLennon tells a story of his very first job in a small town general store. This was the day before mails and supermarket chains at least it was in his community. At age thirteen he was hired as a handy boy. He would sweep the flour, bag items for customers, put up stock. On one particular Saturday, he recalled, he heard the owner say to one of the clerks "It's that time of the year again, it's time to take inventory." Dr. McLennon wrote that this was a word that had not yet entered into his vocabulary. When an opportune moment arrived, he went up to the kindly older man and asked, Sir, what is an inventory? Patiently the owner explained that it was a time when you made a list of everything that you had from groceries on the shelves to wrapping paper and string. Still somewhat puzzled, the young McLennon then asked, Why?

"Well," responded the owner, "it's easy to forget exactly how much you have each year. Every now and then you have to take an inventory just to see what all you have."

That little story, to me, pretty well sums up what Thanksgiving is all about. It is a time when each of us needs to ask ourselves the question: Have I taken inventory of my life lately? Have I made an effort to count all the things that I do have in life instead of complaining about the things that I don't have. It is a good exercise especially when we are of a mind to brood or whine in self pity. Have you taken inventory lately?

What I am suggesting here is not some shallow "count your blessings" platitude. But from time to time, in a genuine kind of a way, we need to sit down and do some talking to ourselves about all of the gifts and opportunities and challenges that God has given each one of us. Perhaps there is a deep underlying wisdom in the children's poem that says: "Count your blessings one by one, and you might be surprised what the Lord has done."

Seven things to be grateful for:

For automatic dishwashers. They make it possible to get out of the kitchen before the family come in for their after-dinner snacks.

For husbands who attack small repair jobs around the house. They usually make them big enough to call in professionals.

For the bathtub the one place the family allows Mom some time to herself.

For children who put away their things and clean up after themselves. They're such a joy you hate to see them go home to their own parents.

For gardening. It's a relief to deal with dirt outside the house for a change.

For teenagers. They give parents an opportunity to learn a second language.

For smoke alarms. They let you know when the turkey's done.

If we are not thankful then we can become bitter. If we are not thankful, then it becomes too easy to sit around and ponder the question: why me?

Dr. Jim Moore, pastor of St. Luke's UMC in Houston wrote a book entitled "You Can Grow Bitter or You Can Grow Better." He writes that he got the idea for the title from a young woman who once came to him in a most tragic moment in her life. She had tears in her eyes and her knuckles were white as she twisted a handkerchief. She had just received word that her twenty-six year old husband had been killed in a farming accident, leaving her alone with three pre-school age children. One moment he was alive and vibrant, the next moment gone. "I don't know how I am going to be able to get along without him," she sobbed. "But I do know one thing. I can either get bitter or I can get better."

One way that we can get better rather than bitter is to develop a thankful heart. We must learn to be grateful to the Lord with whom we shall spend eternity. Our morning prayer should always begin: O Thou who has given me so much, I pray that you give me yet one more thing a grateful heart.

A story is told of Abraham Lincoln. One day the President summoned to the White House a surgeon in the Army of the Cumberland from the state of Ohio. The major assumed that he was to be commended for some exceptional work. During the conversation Mr. Lincoln asked the major about his widowed mother. She is doing fine, he responded. How do you know asked Lincoln. You haven't written her. And then Lincoln added: "But she has written me. She thinks that you are dead and she is asking that a special effort be made to return your body home." Then the Commander and Chief placed a pen in the young doctor's hand and ordered him to write a letter letting his mother know that he was alive and well.

Oh, the blessings that we take for granted. Oh, the wretchedness of ingratitude. It was Shakespeare who worded it more appropriately than ever we could. He wrote: Blow blow thou winter wind. Thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude.

During a harvest festival in India, an old widow arrived at her church with an extraordinarily large offering of rice - far more than the poor woman could be expected to afford. The itinerant pastor of the church did not know the widow well. But he did know that she was very poor and so he asked her if she were making the offering in gratitude for some unusual blessing. "Yes," replied the woman. "My son was sick and I promised a large gift to God if he got well." "And your son has recovered?" asked the pastor. The widow paused. "No," she said. "He died last week. But I know that he is in God's care; for that I am especially thankful."

Rev. John R. Ramsey tells how in one church a certain person provided him with a rose boutonniere for the lapel of his suit every Sunday. At first he really appreciated it but then it sort of became routine. Then one Sunday it became very special.

As he was leaving the Sunday Service a young boy walked up to him and said, "Sir, what are you going to do with your flower?" At first the preacher didn't know what the boy was talking about. When it sank in, he pointed to the rose on his lapel and asked the boy, "Do you mean this?"

The boy said, "Yes, sir. If you're just going to throw it away, I would like it."

The preacher smiled and told him he could have the flower and then casually asked what he was going to do with it. The boy, who was probably no more than 10 years old, looked up at the preacher and said, "Sir, I'm going to give it to my granny. My mother and father divorced last year. I was living with my mother, but she married again, and wanted me to live with my father. I lived with him for a while, but he said I couldn't stay, so he sent me to live with my grandmother. She is so good to me. She cooks for me and takes care of me. She has been so good to me that I wanted to give her that pretty flower for loving me."

When the little boy finished, the preacher could hardly speak. His eyes filled with tears and he knew he had been touched by God. He reached up and unpinned the rose. With the flower in his hand, he looked at the boy and said, "Son, that is the nicest thing that I've ever heard but you can't have this flower because it's not enough. If you'll look in front of the pulpit, you'll see a big bouquet of flowers. Different families buy them for the Church each week. Please take those flowers to your granny because she deserves the very best."

Then the boy made one last statement which Rev. Ramsey said he will always treasure. The boy said, "What a wonderful day! I asked for one flower but got a beautiful bunch of flowers."

That's the thankful spirit. That's the gratitude attitude. And it's that attitude that should guide our giving and our lives. Like that boy's granny, God has blessed us so much. God has been so good to us that giving shouldn't even be a question. It should just flow from us naturally.

Whereas, it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; Whereas, both the houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me "to recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness!"

Now therefore, I do recommend next, to be devoted by the people of the states to the service of that great and glorious being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be, that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country.

It is interesting to note that it wasn't until we were at war, the Civil War to be exact, that our Thanksgiving holiday was officially recognized by Congress. It had started in the small Plymouth Colony in 1621 when the English Pilgrims feasted with members of the Wampanoag (Wam·pa·no·ag) Indians who brought gifts of food as a gesture of goodwill. The custom grew in various colonies as a means of celebrating the harvest. In 1777, over 100 years later, the continental congress proclaimed a national day of Thanksgiving after the American Revolution victory at the Battle of Saratoga. But it was twelve years later that George Washington proclaimed another national day of thanksgiving in honor of the ratification of the Constitution and requested that the congress finally make it an annual event. They declined and it would be another 100 years and the end of a bloody civil war before President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed the last Thursday in November Thanksgiving. The year was 1865. It might surprise you to learn that it took still another 40 years, the early 1900's, before the tradition really caught on. For you see Lincoln's official Thanksgiving was sanctioned in order to bolster the Union's morale. Many Southerners saw the new holiday as an attempt to impose Northern customs on their conquered land.

Thanksgiving today is a mild-mannered holiday full of football, hot apple pie, and family reunions. But that's not a realistic historical picture of Thanksgiving. It is more often born of adversity and difficult times. So many of the greatest expressions of thanksgiving have occurred under circumstances so debilitating one wonders why people give thanks. It would seem the more reasonable response would be bitterness and ingratitude.

Paul writing from a prison cell and probably knowing that he would soon die by the guillotine writes to the Philippians, "I give thanks to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor imprisoned in 1943 for his political and Christian opposition to the Nazi regime, was executed two years later. On the day that the sentence was carried out he conducted a service for the other prisoners. One of those prisoners, an English officer who survived, wrote these words:

"Bonhoeffer always seemed to me to spread an atmosphere of happiness and joy over the least incident, and profound gratitude for the mere fact that he was alive... He was one of the very few persons I have ever met for whom God was real and always near... On Sunday, April 8, 1945, Pastor Bonhoeffer conducted a little service of worship and spoke to us in a way that went to the heart of all of us. He found just the right words to express the spirit of our imprisonment, and the thoughts and resolutions it had brought us. He had hardly ended his last prayer when the door opened and two civilians entered. They said, "Prisoner Bonhoeffer, come with us." That had only one meaning for all prisoners--the gallows. We said good-bye to him. He took me aside: "This is the end; but for me it is the beginning of life." The next day he was hanged in Flossenburg.

Out of great suffering have come the greatest expressions of gratitude. And so I suggest to you this morning that in the wake of the terrorist attacks, the Afghan war, the anthrax attacks, the economic turmoil, the market crash, and the flight 587 crash we have all the more reason to celebrate Thanksgiving?

There was an email that went viral the week of Sept of 11th. It was called "What a Difference a Day Makes." It is particularly appropriate during our national holiday of Thanksgiving:

• On Monday, we e-mailed jokes.
• On Tuesday, we did not.
• On Monday, we were fussing about praying in school.
• On Tuesday, we would have been hard pressed to find a school where someone was not praying.
• On Monday, our heroes were athletes.
• On Tuesday, we relearned who heroes are.
• On Monday, there were people trying to separate us by race, sex, color, and creed.
• On Tuesday, we were all holding hands.
• On Monday, we were irritated that our rebate checks had not arrived.
• On Tuesday, we gave money away gladly to people we had never met.
• On Monday, we were upset that we had to wait 5 minutes in a fast food line.
• On Tuesday, we stood in line for 3 to 5 hours to give blood for the dying.
• On Monday, we argued with our kids to clean up their rooms.
• On Tuesday, we couldn't get home fast enough to hug our kids.
• On Monday, we went to work as usual.
• On Tuesday, we went to work, but some of us didn't come home.
• On Monday, we had families.
• On Tuesday, we had orphans.
• On Monday, September 10th, life felt routine.
• On Tuesday, September 11th, it did not.

What a difference a day makes.

In 2001 as the Northern Alliance in Afghanistan advanced through the north and took control of Mazar-e-Sharif, reports slowly made their way to the rest of the world how the common afghan people were responding. The reports underscored for me, once again, the unimaginable oppression of the Taliban government but also, it served as a vivid reminder of the tremendous liberties we enjoy. The Associated Press reported that on Monday,

"In Mazar-e-Sharif, men lined up at barber shops to have their Taliban-mandated beards shaved off. Women were discarding their all-encompassing burqas, and music (banned by the Taliban) could be heard coming from cassette players in shops".

This Thursday we will all sit down to a Thanksgiving meal. The holiday has been transformed by these last two months into a penetrating inventory of our lives. What you and I enjoy the rest of the world can only dream: life, liberty, and a chance to pursue happiness. To many in the United States these rights had become--before the events of September 11th--commonplace, and to a few they were even regarded as trite, but not any more. Those three rights (Life, Liberty, the pursuit of Happiness) are once again relevant expressions of a just and free society. Our forefathers understood the gravity in these words. I am beginning to. And to God, I am thankful for them.

Once upon a time, there was a far-away land that was ruled by a vicious king. His iron hand reached into every corner of his subjects' lives. Every corner - except one. Try as he might, he couldn't destroy their belief in God.

In his frustration, he finally summoned his advisors and asked them: "Where can I hide God so the people will end up forgetting about him?"

One suggested hiding God on the dark side of the moon. This idea was debated, but was voted down because the advisors feared that their scientists would one day discover a way to travel into space travel and God would be discovered again.

Another suggested burying God in the deepest part of the ocean. But there was the same problem with this idea, so it was voted down.

One idea after another was suggested and debated and rejected. Until finally the oldest and wisest advisor had a flash of insight. "I know," he said, "why don't we hide God where no one will ever even think to look?" And he explained, "If we hide God in the ordinary events of people's everyday lives, they'll never find him!"

And so it was done. And they say people in that land are still looking for God - even today.

The Board of Bethlehem Community Church gathered for its monthly meeting with solemn resolve. They were the largest, most prestigious congregation in their region, and with that honor came some serious responsibility. Every other year they hosted the Bishop's Winter Renewal Retreat for forty to fifty area pastors. Bethlehem Church's beautiful facility provided meeting rooms and meals for the specially invited clergy and guest speakers. The details were always impeccably managed. Each retreat closed with the Bishop preaching the Sunday morning sermon for the guests and congregation. Participants left feeling pampered and refreshed.

But this year the Board faced a potentially embarrassing dilemma. In the two years since the last retreat, Mae Ella Grant had joined the church.

Now, Bethlehem Community Church was known for its classic, high-church liturgy. The pastor's preaching style tended to attract the intellectual, professional members of the community. The organist and music director had both taught music at a local private college for years. They had attracted many professional singers and musicians to the sixty-voice choir and chamber orchestra. Mae Ella Grant's first visit to the church had been at Easter the previous year. After the choir's beautiful presentation of Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus," she had spontaneously cried out, "Praise the Lord!" Imagine the congregation's shock!

Most everyone had politely ignored that first, indelicate outburst. But the Grant family returned to worship. During each service she attended, Mae Ella managed to lose control of at least one "Amen!" or "Halleluia!" or "Praise the Lord!" The difficulty was that she was a perfectly charming person in every other way. When her family joined the church, she took an immediate role in Sunday School, the Social Concerns Committee and the Women's Service Society. She volunteered tirelessly to serve at dinners, help put out mailings, and work at the mealsite for the homeless. Everyone came to know and like her. Many tried, directly or indirectly, in gentle and not-so-gentle ways, to tell her how disturbing her outbursts were to the rest of the congregation. Mae Ella would blush and shake her red curls and apologize. But, with a sparkle in her eyes, she would say that, sometimes, there was no controlling the Holy Spirit!

Well, even the most conservative worshipers became accustomed to the outbursts after a year and a half. They could tolerate some spontaneity, especially when they knew Mae Ella was trying to conform. But what would the Bishop and visiting pastors think? The board was solemn, indeed, as they made their preparations.

Another Bishop's Winter Retreat was carried out as impeccably as always after the beginning of the New Year. With tastefully-chosen Christmas decorations still in place, awaiting the arrival of the magi, forty-five pastors were enveloped in the hospitality of Bethlehem Church. Mae Ella Grant was one of the hardest working volunteers that entire weekend. And on Sunday morning she and her husband, a psychology professor at the University, and their three curly-haired children were in their usual places to hear the Bishop speak. Mae Ella, having been cautioned by her many friends to control herself, was on her best behavior.

The choir's moving rendition of "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming" nearly did her in. Mae Ella sat on her hands and bit her lip when they were finished. Then one of the guest speakers from the retreat rose to read the Psalm, and his words and the strength of his southern drawl were a balm on Mae Ella's soul. He read:

Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise him in the heights! Praise him, all his angels; praise him, all his host! Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars! ... Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all rulers of the earth! Young men and women alike, old and young together! Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is exalted; his glory is above earth and heaven ... Praise the Lord! (verses 1-3, 11-13, 14b)

The echo of his last words had not finished ringing through the carved oak rafters before Mae Ella's hands clapped before her and she shouted in return, "Oh, praise the Lord!"

Just as abruptly as it began, her applause stopped as Mae Ella's hands clapped over her mouth. She sank back in the pew in horror of what she had done. But her husband tapped her shoulder and pointed to the Bishop, who now stood in the pulpit beaming a warm smile in her direction.

"Thank you so much for that testimony to the glory of God," the Bishop said directly to Mae Ella. And as the crimson color began to recede slowly from her face, she listened in awe. The Bishop proceeded to preach an inspiring sermon on the importance of spontaneous praise in worship. In it he endorsed the expression of such praise as a regular part of the worship experience. When he came to the conclusion, the Bishop smiled impishly in Mae Ella's direction and said, "Will you all say 'Amen'?" Mae Ella's lilting voice led the staid congregation in a surprisingly strong Amen!

A sheepfold was a walled enclosure made of stones. Several flocks of sheep were kept in the sheepfold, and when a legitimate shepherd came to get his flock, the doorkeeper or watchman of the fold would let the shepherd pass into the fold. The shepherd would call the sheep, and the sheep, who knew his voice, would come to him, and he would lead his flock out to pasture. When they were away from the sheepfold, the shepherd would stay out all night with his flock, finding some kind of shelter in the pasture area, and he himself would act as the door, so that no wild animal could get by him.

A Christian salesman was in a strange town over the weekend, so on Sunday morning he went to the church closest to his hotel. He noticed that the worship was a little different but soon became so inspired by the sermon that at one point he just couldn’t control himself and shouted out loud, "Hallelujah!" as he had been accustomed to doing in his home church.

Not noticing the stares of his fellow worshipers, he shouted, "Praise the Lord!" when another stirring sentence came along. After this second outburst, an usher came forward, tapped the man on the shoulder, and whispered sternly, "Nobody can praise the Lord in this church!"

A Christian should be an Hallelujah from head to toe. Long faces, stooped shoulders, the downward glance are products of a life foreign to Christianity. Much of the church must begin to realize that Christianity is more than breast beating and pious pretense.

At Pentecost, spirit came into the church. POW! The Holy Spirit arrived in full power. God rocked that band of fearful, squeaky, sometime-followers right out of their inactivity. Out they came from behind locked doors - right into the streets - telling about Jesus.

The placenta was now broken, the labor subsided and the church was born. Peter and John stood in the market place telling everyone who would listen that Jesus was the Lord. And nobody and nothing except death itself could quiet them.

Hey Christians, listen! Our God is a happening God. He belongs to the living present, the passing moment, the now. His powerful Spirit wants to make its impact upon our lives. God wants to happen in us.

Let him in and your whole being will "Praise the Lord!"

Sometimes we as Christians need to stop along life's road and look back. Although it might have been winding and steep, we can see how God directed us by His faithfulness. Here's how F.E. Marsh described what the Christian can see when he looks back:

• The deliverances the Lord has wrought (Deut. 5:15).
• The way He has led (Deut. 8:2)
• The blessings He has bestowed (Deut. 32:7-12).
• The victories He has won (Deut. 11:2-7).
• The encouragements He has given (Josh. 23:14).

When we face difficulties, we sometimes forget God's past faithfulness. We see only the detours and the dangerous path. But look back and you will also see the joy of victory, the challenge of the climb, and the presence of your traveling Companion who has promised never to leave you nor forsake you.

High in the mountains of North Wales in a place called Llanymawddwy, lives a shepherd named John Jones with his wife Mari and his black and white dog Mack. I stood one misty summer morning in the window of their farmhouse watching John on horseback herding the sheep with Mack. A few cows were quietly chewing their cud in a nearby corner while perhaps a hundred sheep moved across the dewy meadow toward the pens where they were to be dipped. Mack, a champion Scottish collie, was in his glory. He came from a long line of working dogs, and he had sheep in his blood. This was what he was made for, this was what he had been trained to do. And it was a marvelous thing to see him circling to the right, circling to the left, barking, crouching, racing along, herding a stray sheep here, nipping at a stubborn one there, his eyes always glued to the sheep, his ears listening for the tiny metal whistle from his master, which I couldn't hear.

Mari took me to the pens to watch what John had to do there. When all the animals had been shut inside the gates, Mack tore around the outside of the pens and took up his position at the dipping trough, frantic with expectation, waiting for the chance to leap into action again. One by one John seized the rams by their curled horns and flung them into the antiseptic. They would struggle to climb out the side, and Mack would snarl and snap at their faces to force them back in. Just as they were about to climb up the ramp at the far end, John caught them by the horns with a wooden implement, spun them around, and held them ears, eyes, and nose submerged for a few seconds . . . .

When the rams had been dipped, John rode out again on his horse to herd the ewes which were in a different pasture. Again I watched with Mari as John and Mack went to work, the one in charge, the other obedient. Sometimes, tearing at top speed around the flock, Mack would jam on four-wheeled brakes, his eyes blazing but still on the sheep, his body tense and quivering, but obedient to the command to stop. What the shepherd saw the dog could not see the weak ewe that lagged behind, the one caught in a bush, the danger that lay ahead for the flock.

"Do the sheep have any idea what's happening?" I asked Mari.

"Not a clue!" she said.

"And how about Mack?" I'll never forget Mari's answer.

"The dog doesn't understand the pattern only obedience."

Sharing the gospel and caring for people are non-negotiable for persons who have found, or been found by, the Easter experience. All must hear the commission of Christ--both those looking for something to do and those who seem too busy to do anything else.

It is in faithfulness to the commission of Christ that we discover the real fullness of communion with Christ. To find the resurrected Lord, we must look among the homeless, the bereaved, the suffering, the abused, and the hungry-right where he told us he would be. Christ is found where the unlovable are loved and the grieving are comforted; where the bread and the cup are blessed and consumed.

Though you may have missed Easter this year, a discovery of the risen Christ, whenever it occurs, will set you scurrying about in response to the good news.

A noted pastor named R.W. Dale, like many other pastors, had preached scores of Easter sermons. Then, one year, something different happened. Dale was completely overwhelmed by the confession, "He is risen." Never before had the truth dawned so forcefully and realistically. The pastor was transformed. Subsequently, he instituted a policy calling for the singing of an Easter hymn every single Sunday of the year. One who had missed Easter previously wanted to be sure that no one missed Easter repeatedly.

Here, in my judgment, is one of the subtlest temptations that faces any Christian in any era: If we are not careful, we can get diverted here from what Christ has called us to do in this present age. This happened in Thessalonica not twenty years after Jesus died, and Saint Paul met the issue head on. Some of the folk there got so caught up in expecting and predicting the imminent return of the Lord that they had ceased to do any work and degenerated into idle busybodies who prattled only about the future. Paul rebuked this tendency to let an over-interest in "the last things" divert us from faithfulness to "the first things."

There is a legendary story about a warrior who was struck one day by a poisonous arrow. This man happened to be a speculative sort of person, so as he lay on the ground, with the poisonous arrow buried in his leg, he mused to himself: "I wonder what kind of wood this arrow is made of? What sort of birds, do you suppose, the feathers come from? I wonder what type of man shot this arrow — tall or short, dark or light." His comrades, who saw his plight, could bear it no longer, but cried out in frustration: "For God's sake, man! Stop speculating and pull out the arrow!"

Need I say more?

Do you have a job in this church and this community . . . or do you have a ministry? There is a difference!

• If you are doing it because no one else will, it's a job. If you're doing it to serve the Lord, it's a ministry.
• If you're doing it just well enough to get by, it's a job. If you're doing it to the best of your ability, it's a ministry.
• If you'll do it only so long as it doesn't interfere with other activities, it's a job. If you're committed to staying with it even when it means letting go of other things, it's a ministry.
• If you quit because no one praised you or thanked you, it was a job. If you stay with it even though no one seems to notice, it's a ministry.
• If you do it because someone else said that it needs to be done, it's a job. If you are doing it because you are convinced it needs to be done, it's a ministry.
• It's hard to get excited about a job. It's almost impossible not to get excited about a ministry.
• If your concern is success, it's a job. If your concern is faithfulness, it's a ministry.
• People may say "well done" when you do your job. The Lord will say "well done" when you complete your ministry.
• An average church is filled with people doing jobs. A great church is filled with people involved in ministry!
• If God calls you to a ministry, for heaven's sake (literally) don't treat it like a job. If you have a job in the church, give it up and find a ministry! God doesn't want us feeling stuck in a job, but excited, fulfilled, and faithful in a specific ministry.

May God bless and empower us as disciples of Jesus Christ, called to be in the ministry of this church and community. Amen.

A shepherd was herding his flocks in a remote pasture when suddenly a brand new Jeep Cherokee advanced towards him out of a dust cloud. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and a YSL tie, leans out of the window and asks: "If I can tell you exactly how many sheep you have in your flock, will you give me one?" 

The shepherd looks at the yuppie, then at his peacefully grazing flock and answers, "Sure!" The yuppie parks the car, whips out his notebook, connects it to a cell phone, surfs to a NASA page where he calls up a GPS navigation system, scans the area and opens a database and some 60 spreadsheets with complex formulas. Finally, he prints a 150-page report on a miniature printer, turns to our shepherd and says: "You have exactly 1586 sheep!" "That's correct. As agreed, you can take one of the sheep," says the shepherd. He watches the young man make a selection and bundle it into his Cherokee. 

As the car starts to pull away, he calls out: "If I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me my sheep back?" "Okay, why not?" answers the young man, stopping the car. "You are a consultant" says the shepherd. "That's correct," says the yuppie. "How did you guess?" 

"Easy," answers the shepherd. "You turn up here without being asked. You want to be paid for information I already have. And you don't know anything about my business because you just took my dog."

What I want to deal with is leadership.  People are saying in Boston, Mass, Palm Beach, Florida, and towns throughout our country that there must be something wrong with the church. Why has the religious leadership failed?

Now let us travel 3000 miles to Israel. In towns very familiar to us because they are biblical towns there is a war going on in the streets. The two sides are deeply religious and yet they are at each other's throats. Even the children there are abused and used as human bombs.

People are saying in Palestine, Jerusalem, Kabul, and in towns all over the east that something is wrong. Why has the religious leadership failed?

Leadership. We all want good leadership. Good shepherds to lead us in and out of green pasture. We vote hoping to elect it, we apply for jobs hoping to work for it, and we go to school hoping to be educated by it. But we do not always find it. The trust we place in our leaders can be broken. So what are we to do? John 10 holds the answer.

Let us ask three questions and see how Jesus answers them.

1. What are the needs of the sheep?
2. What are the traits of a bad shepherd?
3. What are the traits of a good shepherd?

"Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And he's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any [man]. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."

Those words, spoken by Martin Luther King, Jr., the night before he was assassinated in Memphis, still haunt us. To this day, they generate speculation and debate. Some are convinced that King knew he would be killed. With the kind of turmoil King was creating and the general upheaval that was being witnessed from courthouse squares to college campuses, it doesn't require much imagination to envision a scenario wherein King would be gunned down. King noted on that very night that the "... nation is sick. Trouble is in the land. Confusion all around."

Others are equally certain that King did not have a premonition about his own death. John Cartwright, who holds the professorship at BostonUniversity which bears King's name, believes that King was not predicting his own death. Rather, according to Cartwright, Dr. King was only aware that the arc of justice is long and that significant changes only happen over an extended period of time. In other words, King knew that his words might articulate the dream, but the reality of the dream might not be experienced until generations later.

We have debated the same issue with Jesus. Did Jesus know he was going to die? Did God send Jesus to earth to die? Or, as events evolved and pressure mounted, did it then become evident to Jesus that his faithfulness to God may bring about his own death? There are those who believe that Bethlehem and Calvary were interwoven into Jesus' life from the beginning. When John the Baptist declared that Jesus was the Lamb of God, it sounded like Jesus' crucifixion was certain from the outset. In a culture that sacrificed lambs twice a day in the temple, those words are a kiss of death. "Here is the Lamb of God" can be loosely understood to mean, "Hey, look here, everyone, here's the one that is going to be sacrificed."

A shepherd was tending his flock in a remote pasture when suddenly a brand-new Jeep Cherokee appeared out of a dust cloud, advanced toward him and stopped. The driver, a 20 something fellow wearing a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and a YSL tie, leaned out of the window and asked the shepherd, "If I can tell you exactly how many sheep you have in your flock, will you give me one?"

The shepherd looked at the young guy, then at his peacefully grazing flock, and calmly answered, "Sure."

The young man parked his car, whipped out his notebook computer, connected it to a cell phone, surfed to a NASA page on the Internet where he called up a GPS satellite navigation system, scanned the area, then opened up a database and some Excel spreadsheets with complex formulas.

He finally printed out a 150-page report on his hi-tech miniaturized printer, turned around to our shepherd and said, "You have here exactly 1,586 sheep!"

"Amazing! That's correct! Like I agreed, you can take one of my sheep," said the shepherd.

The shepherd watched the man make a selection and bundle it into his Cherokee. When he was finished the sheepherder said, "If I can tell you exactly what your political persuasion is, where you're from and who you work for, will you give me my sheep back?"

"Okay, why not," answered the young man.

"You're a Republican/Democrat from (name your city here) and you're working for (name here a local politician or your mayor)," said the shepherd.

"Wow! That's correct," said the young man. "How did you ever guess that?

"Easy," answered the shepherd. "Nobody called you, but you showed up here anyway. You want to be paid for providing a solution to a question I already knew the answer to. And you clearly don't know squat about what you're doing. Now ... can I have my dog back?"

Mother Teresa of Calcutta once was asked, "How do you measure the success of your work?" She looked puzzled for a moment and then replied, "I don't remember that the Lord ever spoke of success. He spoke only of faithfulness in love. This is the only success that really counts."

In modern times we define a host of relations by contracts. These are usually for goods or services and for hard cash. The contract, formal or informal, helps to specify failure in these relationships. The Lord did not establish a contract with Israel or with the church. He created a covenant. There is a difference. Contracts are broken when one of the parties fails to keep his promise. If, let us say, a patient fails to keep an appointment with a doctor, the doctor is not obligated to call the house and inquire, "Where were you? Why didn't you show up for your appointment?" He simply goes on to his next patient and has his appointment secretary take note of the patient who failed to keep the appointment. The patient may find it harder the next time to see the doctor. He broke an informal contract.

According to the Bible, however, the Lord asks: "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!" (Isaiah 49:15) The Bible indicates the covenant is more like the ties of a parent to her child than it is a doctor's appointment. If a child fails to show up for dinner, the parent's obligation, unlike the doctor's, isn't canceled. The parent finds out where the child is and makes sure he's cared for. One member's failure does not destroy the relationship. A covenant puts no conditions on faithfulness. It is the unconditional commitment to love and serve.

One Sunday morning, following the church service, a layman accosted the pastor and said, "Tom, this church has been insulting me for years, and I did not know it until this week." The stunned pastor replied, "What on earth do you mean?" "Well," said the layman, every Sunday morning the call to worship in this church ends with the words, ‘We are the people of His pasture and the sheep of His hand.' And I have heard ministers over the years call the congregation, God's flock.' Then this past week I visited the Chicago stockyards.  There I discovered that sheep are just about the dumbest animals God ever created.  Why, they are so stupid that they even follow one another docilely into the slaughterhouse.  Even pigs are smarter than sheep, and I would certainly be angry if my church called me a pig' every Sunday morning.  So I'm not at all sure I want to come to church and be called a sheep' any longer...even God's sheep'."

The man had a point.  But whether we like it or not, that is the language of the Bible: both the Hebrew Bible and the Christian New Testament.  We are called "God's sheep." The favorite psalm of many people is the 23rd, and it begins by saying, "The Lord is my shepherd..." And if "the Lord is my shepherd," then I am one of the Lord's sheep.

A promise from God is a statement we can depend on with absolute confidence. Here are 12 promises for the Christian to claim.

1. God's presence "I will never leave thee" (Heb. 13:5)
2. God's protection "I am thy shield" (Gen. 15:1)
3. God's power "I will strengthen thee" (Isa. 41:10)
4. God's provision "I will help thee" (Isa. 41:10)
5. God's leading "And when He putteth forth His own sheep, He goeth before them" (John 10:4)
6. God's purposes "I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil" (Jer. 20:11)
7. God's rest "Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matt. 11:28)
8. God's cleansing "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9)
9. God's goodness "No good thing will He withhold from them that work uprightly" (Psalm 84:11)
10. God's faithfulness "The Lord will not forsake His people for His great name's sake" (1 Sam. 12:22)
11. God's guidance "The meek will He guide" (Psalm 25:9)
12. God's wise plan "All things work together for good to them that love God" (Rom. 8:28)

In the year 1873, Horatio Spafford, a Christian lawyer from Chicago, placed his wife and four children on the luxury liner Ville de Havre sailing from New York to France. Spafford expected to join them in about three or four weeks after finishing up some business, but with the exception of his wife he never saw them again. The trip started out beautifully. But on the evening of November 21, 1873, as the Ville de Havre proceeded peacefully across the Atlantic, the ship was suddenly struck by another vessel, the Lochearn, and sank a mere thirty minutes later, with the loss of nearly all on board.

On being told that the ship was sinking Mrs. Spafford knelt with her children and prayed that they might be saved or be made willing to die, if such was God's will. A few minutes later, in the confusion, three of the children were swept away by the waves while she stood clutching the youngest. Suddenly the youngest child was swept from her arms. Mrs. Spafford became unconscious and awoke later to find that she had been rescued by sailors from the Lochearn. But the four children were gone.

Back in the United States, Horatio Spafford was waiting for news of his family, and at last, ten days later (after the rescue ship had reached Cardiff), it came. "Saved alone" was his wife's message. That night Spafford walked the floor of his rooms in anguish, as anyone would have done. But this was not all. For as he shared his loss with His Lord, a loss which could not be reversed in this life, he found, as many have, that peace which indeed passes all understanding. Toward morning he told a friend named Major Whittle, "I am glad to be able to trust my Lord when it costs me something." Then, sometime later, as he reflected on the disaster at sea, he wrote this hymn:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea-billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin-Oh, the bliss of this glorious thought,
My sin-not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend,
"Even so"—it is well with my soul.

The 96th Psalm is closely comparable with 1 Chronicles 16:23-26. Psalm 29:2 also contains the words, "Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness." The New Revised Standard Version translated Psalm 96:9 to read, "Worship the Lord in holy splendor; tremble before him all the earth." Older people have long been accustomed to using the words from the King James Version.

Worship ought to be made beautiful in sight, sound, and thought. The physical settings of worship experiences serve to enhance and reinforce the yearning for understanding and completeness. This may be illustrated by a question: "Would you rather have a picnic on a graveled area in the heat of the sun, or where there is verdure of grass, and the shade of trees?" Worship is best when the scene is not barren, but blessed with good architecture, beauty of color, protection from the elements, and in the presence of an altar, giving it sacred significance.

We need to remember that truth is not only conveyed by words. It is also shared in feelings, situational inclusion, comfortable meditation and contemplation, which nurtures us. But worship can also take place in foxholes of distress, danger, and despair. God's messages and our responses do not always come in pretty packages with liturgical decorations. Sometimes they come in moments of destitution, hunger, inner distress, pain, and loneliness. What we make of what we learn at such times turns the place of discovery into a temple, and we worship in the beauty of holiness because we have found a relationship that truly enriches life.

Worship may take place in prison, a hospital or a nursing home; in a cemetery, a forest, or in a barren desert. It was in a desert setting that Jesus dealt with his temptations and life determinations, as he recalled Deuteronomy 6:13, and declared, "You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve." To the woman at the well in Samaria, Jesus said, "Believe me the hour is coming when on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father. ... But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for such the Father seeks to worship him. God is a spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth." (See John 4:19-24)

All of us yearn for the experience of "worship in the beauty of holiness." The psychiatrist, Von Frankl, held that the urge to worship is instinctive in children in much the same way as the urge to nurse. He suggested that the ages of four and five are the times when children are most desirous and accepting for the experiences of worship. Esthetics and quality appreciation are important to the development and life of the child. The elderly demonstrate much of the same needs in their lives.

"The beauty of holiness" is a most suggestive and satisfying phrase. It conveys the idea of "Holy Presence," and of being involved in spiritual goodness. My how human hearts long for that! In the midst of crassness, competitiveness, controversies, hostility, and uncertainty of conditions, we need that respite desperately.

Symbolism, the historic sign of faith, serves to renew our sense of oneness with what has been generative before us, and proclaims that we too can be involved in the experience of personal inclusion.

The building we refer to as the church or the chapel ought to be as adequate, as comfortable, and as attractive as we want our homes to be. Shouldn't God's house be the most attractive and architecturally satisfying of all? Nostalgia is important to many of us, and plays a tremendous role in our religious and personal life. It is the incentive that leads us to memorialize -- to provide new and beautiful things that relate to worship. Yet, we know that nostalgic sentiment can become a barrier to doing what is most important for the future. We can become so attached to what we have, and give our loyalty to what is familiar, that we may neglect to see what we ought to develop.

"The beauty of holiness" should inspire us for the transformation of life. It should also challenge us to greater things, with God's encouragement and guidance. Contemplating "the beauty of holiness" is not enough! We must also ask, "And what else ought we to do, God?" The answer we receive may not be the one we might prefer, but we had better not pray, "Thy will be done," unless we are willing to be a part of that will. God calls us to the faithful application of our Christian belief and commitment to discipleship, in which is included "the beauty of holiness." Therein lies the great truth of the words with which we began this worship time:

"O worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness;
Serve him with gladness all the earth." Amen.

The Benediction: Send us forth, O God, causing us to remember that the beauty of holiness needs to show in our lives, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Let your actions praise the Lord. Praise is something you do more than something you say. It is an act of kindness which demonstrates that you are a child of God. You can worship God better with your life than with your words. The New Testament book of James says we will be judged at the end of time on whether or not we are doing what Christ wants us to do.

Faith without works is dead. Sure we are saved by faith in Jesus Christ, but true faith produces good works. To say, "Jesus, I love you," and then go through life without showing it, helps absolutely no one. When we stand before the Lord on Judgment Day, he’ll ask us, "What have you done? What do you have to show for your life? How have you served me and my church?" And if we respond, "Well Lord, I was planning on it, but you know how busy I was all week, and the weekend was about the only time I had for myself. I enjoyed church when I went, and I tried to lead a good life. Lord, I didn’t ask for the heart attack ... I really didn’t expect to die so soon." Then the Lord is going to say, "I’m sorry. You didn’t have time for me and my work in your life now I don’t have time for you in death."

Albert Schweitzer once said, "If there is something you own that you can’t give away, then you don’t own it, it owns you." What owns you? What makes you tick? What is important enough in life to keep us awake at night thinking about it? If we call Jesus Christ our Lord and really mean it, he must be number one in our life. God’s revealed truth in Christ must be the one thing that owns us. We must constantly desire to get really close to Jesus. And in our quest, our Bible must wind up with fingerprints all over it. Our presence in church must be weekly, and our contribution to God’s work must be felt and known because it’s so evident.

Let us begin each day with the words, "Lord what will you have me do today? Fill my mind with your mind." Only then can we go about our day giving praise to him, especially in our doing.

Sigrid Undset, Norway's greatest writer, was a winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature and a convert to catholic Christianity. She wrote of the Christ child, "To people of good will, the Prince of Peace, has come as a new-born babe in a crib, and He has chosen to come to us so weak and naked in order that we may each do something for Him…Mary's Son tells us that all we do or do not do for one of the smallest of His little ones, that we do or do not do for Him. When we give each other Christmas presents in His Name, let us remember that He has given us the sun and the moon and the stars, all the earth with its forests and mountains and oceans. He has given us all that lives and move upon them. He has given us all the green things and everything that blossoms and bears fruit—and all that we quarrel about and all that we have misused. And to save us from our foolishness and from all our sins, He came down to earth and GAVE HIMSELF."

A farmer took a piece of bad earth and made things flourish. Proud of his accomplishments, he asked his minister to come by and see what he had done. The minister was impressed. "That's the tallest corn I've ever seen. I've never seen anything as big as those melons. Praise the Lord!" He went on that way about every crop, praising the Lord for it all. Finally the farmer couldn't take it anymore. "Reverend," he said, "I wish you could have seen this place when the Lord was doing it by himself."

God bestows upon us grace and salvation, but without any input from us, God's mission on earth could not be fulfilled.  We are God's hands and feet in the world, disciples and apostles commissioned for evangelism and mission.

Having spent some time in the wilderness, Moses sent out spies into the land of Canaan. They returned telling of people who were giants, of cities which were fortified, and of a land flowing with milk and honey.

Caleb, a very godly man, said, "Let us go up at once and possess it, for we are well able to conquer it." However, the majority of the spies replied, "Not against people as strong as they are, they would crush us. We were in our sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight."

If we perceive of ourselves as grasshoppers, that is precisely what we will become. Others will also see us as grasshoppers - little more than insects to be crushed underfoot.

Today the church finds itself in an alienated world. It receives a bad press with few exceptions. It is portrayed on television and in the movies as either corrupt or insipid. It’s not "the fashionable thing" to be a Christian. Christians are speaking less and less about their faith, and when they do, they speak in apologetic terms. We are becoming as grasshoppers in the world when God is calling upon us to be spiritual giants.

Every person who claims Jesus Christ as Lord is God’s personal representative to this generation. Each of us must feel personally responsible for sharing the Good News with others. If we don’t tell them, they may never hear it.

It is not possible to be a Christian and to "let George do it." There is no such thing as a secret service Christian. Be proud of your love affair with God. Hold your head high. Commit yourselves to his service. Grasshoppers make little difference in today’s world.

Ascension Day is not really about the power of Jesus vanishing into heaven. It's about having that power unleashed into all the earth. While on earth, Jesus affected those right around him. After he ascended, this powerful presence was unleashed on the whole globe, the whole cosmos. One theologian (Walter Wink) once noted that killing Jesus was like trying to destroy a dandelion seed-head by blowing on it (Yancey, The Jesus I Never Knew, 226). Christ was the light of the world all right, but "now that light, as if hitting a prism, would fracture and shoot out in a human spectrum of waves and colors" (Yancey, 228). There is "no place that we can go to flee from his presence" (Psalm 139), nowhere we can go to separate ourselves from God's love (Rom. 8).

On July 23, 2002, nine miners in Western Pennsylvania became trapped in a flooded mine. The injured and desperate men tied themselves together so that the stronger ones could sustain the weaker ones as they waited to be rescued. Journalists from across the nation reported the rescue effort, which took five long days. No one could believe it when all nine miners emerged safely from the mine.

On July 30, the people of the small mining community gathered for a worship service to thank God for saving the miners' lives. At the ceremony, there were ten miners' lamps set up on the altar, even though there were only nine miners. According to the pastor who presided over the worship celebration, the tenth lamp represented God's presence, which the miners claimed they could feel as they waited to be rescued. It was this "10th Man" they honored as they read Psalm 103: "Praise the Lord . . . Who redeems your life from the pit."  Welcome to this celebration of our "tenth man" the One who has rescued us from the pit.

Frankly, don't we wish that Jesus had told this parable in a little different way. Couldn't he have gotten the same point across if He had told it something like this:

Verily, verily I tell you that once upon a time there was a good lady who lived next door to an atheist. Everyday, when the lady prayed, the atheist guy could hear her. He thought to himself, "She sure is crazy, praying all the time like that. Doesn't she know there is no GOD!" Many times while she was praying, he would go to her house and harass her, saying, "Lady, why do you pray all the time? Don't you know there is no GOD!" But she kept on praying.

One day, she ran out of groceries. As usual, she was praying to the Lord explaining her situation and thanking Him for what He was going to do. As usual, the atheist heard her praying and thought to himself, "Humph...I'll fix her."

He went to the grocery store, bought a whole bunch of groceries, took them to her house, dropped them off on the front porch, rang the door bell and then hid in the bushes to see what she would do. When she opened the door and saw the groceries, she began to praise the Lord with all her heart, jumping, singing, and shouting everywhere!

The atheist then jumped out of the bushes and told her, "You crazy old lady. God didn't buy you those groceries, I bought those groceries!' Well, she broke out and started running down the street, shouting and praising the Lord even more. When he finally caught her, he asked what her problem was... She said "I knew the Lord would provide me with some groceries, but I didn't know he was going to make the devil pay for them!"

The war-time song "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition" parallels a truth revealed in a true story of a local Bedford citizen.

During the war this army pilot and his co-pilot and crew were flying a B24. One day its controls jammed as they took off and they skimmed precariously low as they neared the mountains.

The co-pilot folded his arms and said, "Our number is up," but the pilot, helped by the gunner, feverously worked at the controls and finally cleared the controls.

The pilot reports, "I got a transfer to another plane to get rid of the co-pilot. I want no fatalist at my side."

Prayer is not a resignation to fate, but true prayer in Christ's name is employing the power that God makes available for Christian living.

We sing, praise God and pray, but the ammunition to fight life's battles must be employed daily. Prayer is God's channel of power to bless mankind.

We must pray, believe, and work!

Ah, dearest Jesus, holy Child,
Make thee a bed, soft, undefiled,
Within my heart, that it may be
A quiet chamber kept for Thee.

My heart for very joy doth leap,
My lips no more can silence keep,
I too must sing, with joyful tongue,
That sweetest ancient cradle song,

Glory to God in highest heaven,
Who unto man His Son hath given
While angels sing with pious mirth.
A glad new year to all the earth.