daily java

Daily Java:

Later, Jesus appeared again to the disciples beside the Sea of Galilee. This is how it happened. Several of the disciples were there—Simon Peter, Thomas (nicknamed the Twin), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples. Simon Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” “We’ll come, too,” they all said. (John 21:1-3)

Jesus had died and had come back from the dead. He had spoken to the apostles and done some other things. But the apostles were at loose ends. What do they do now? For three years or more they had walked around with Jesus and had a rather exciting time. Now they weren’t really doing anything.

Before long, the Spirit would come on them and they would understand all this stuff, but for now they just did not know what to do.

So Peter does what he knows. He goes fishing. The rest of the apostles were kind of used to hanging around together and thought, Well, we are doing anything else. So they went too.

Sometimes you do not know what to do. You are through with something really important and you are at loose ends. So you do what you are used to.

There are times when that is good. Peter probably enjoyed fishing and to the rest of the apostles, it was different and interesting. they had always done other things and fishing seemed a good way to pass time until something better came.

But there are also times when it is isn’t a good idea. People who have gotten in trouble with their friends and maybe even have gone to jail don’t need to go back and do the familiar things. They come to a point where they are bored or again, at loose ends, and they start doing some of the same things that got them into jail or trouble in the first place.

Later on in this passage, Jesus tells Peter that fishing is not what he is meant to do. He tells Peter that teaching is going to be his life. Feeding God’s sheep will be Peter’s life. Peter has moved in his life from manual labor to something greater.

Not that there is anything wrong with fishing, but Peter and the rest of the apostles are not cut for that. They are made to teach and preach and serve God in a totally different way than they did before. Others will fish. Peter will spend the rest of his life feeding the sheep of God, teaching the church about the grace and power of Jesus.

You were not made to do stuff. You were made to serve Jesus. You might serve him in the working of your occupation, but ultimately, you are a servant of God. That is what he wants you to do.

daily java

Daily Java:

But the Lord is faithful; he will strengthen you and guard you from the evil one. (2 Thessalonians 3:3).

It is easy to get our priorities messed up.

What is our job in life as Christians? Ask people this and you will get interesting answers.

Our job is to fight the devil and remain pure. Our job is to do what God says so we won’t be lost. Our job is to live a Christian life.

All of those are wrong.

I saw an illustration once that stayed with me for years. Four people were picked out of the audience and told they were firemen. The first one was to polish the fire engine. The second was to maintain the hoses. The third one was to keep the equipment in order. The fourth was to take care of the Dalmatian dog.

The man who had appointed them asked each what was his job. Each would reply with the engine, or hoses, or equipment or dog. Again he would ask, what is your job? Each would reply again, hoses, equipment, engine or dog. Again he asked. As he got to one guy, the man stopped and said “Well, it is to put out fires.”

Each had gotten so involved in their minds with their sub-jobs, their small assignments, that they forgot the main job: fire-fighting.

It always struck me that in the Marines, everybody is a Marine, a basic rifleman who fights. Each may have other jobs – clerical, cook, motor pool – but each is an infantryman first and foremost. A marine’s job is to fight.

As Christians, we do not fight the devil, or keep ourselves pure, or resist evil, or any of these things. They will be done, to be sure, but we – first and foremost – have the job of worshiping him, believing in him, serving God.

When we serve God, he will resist, he will strengthen, he will guard. We cannot in and of ourselves. If we could, we wouldn’t need Jesus.

Our lives are not a battle against the evil one. There is no way we can overcome the devil. Our lives are service to God and his love and grace. If we serve him, he will take care of the other and will guard us. If we are faithful to him, he will be faithful to us. He gives us strength.

Our job is to worship. We let him take care of the rest.

taking the money out of pay phones for the phone company

I was young and now I am old. (Psalm 37:25)

Well, I am not really old. But I am old enough to have a lot of memories.

Today I was listening to the radio, the oldies station, the one I like more than others. The songs get a bit old sometimes, but I have found no real alternative. I listen to Christian music a lot, too, but the songs get to sounding so similar and many of the styles are those I really don’t care for.

But anyway, today I was listening and American Pie came on.

Bye, bye Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry
And good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye and singing,
This will be the day that I die, this will be the day that I die.

When I hear that song I am instantly back almost 40 years. I am driving along Bissonet Drive in Houston coming home from work and driving my 1956 Chevy Pickup.

I had a job with the Telephone Company taking money out of pay phones. This was a great job. You had a chance to go into any business anywhere. Everybody had a pay phone in those days and Southwestern Bell Telephone owned them all in Houston.

I drove around in a Southwestern Bell Telephone Company Step Van and had a bicycle lock full of keys. Each pay phone had a different key, if you can imagine that. It really didn’t matter what the business was, I went into it. Bars, restaurants, stores of all kinds. I would call Ella (who was my girlfriend at the time) from some of the weirdest places. It was a blast. I even called her in 1969 from one of the first touch tone phones. I played Mary Had A Little Lamb on it.

One day I went into a place called the Red Baron. It was all red inside, red lights and all. I have always had trouble with red – either light or print – seeing in it. But I went in and began to look around for the phone. A girl came up and asked me if she could help. I told her I was looking for the phone. She took me by the hand and led me over to it. As we went, it dawned on me that she had little if any clothing on. For a 19 year old boy, that was a bit disconcerting. It would be for a 61 year old man, too, for that matter.

But that was the job. I crawled across stages where girls were dancing, fended off drunks, talked to Hare Krishna girls (common all over Houston in those days with their saffron colored robes), walked around with impunity everywhere. I was the phone man, after all.

But after I got out of the army, I came back to the job. I bought my 1956 Chevy pickup, which I named Ralph. It was light blue and had a early 60’s Ford Fleetside bed on it. Around the bed and over the top was railing. The guy I bought it from had hauled lumber on it.  It had the old style foot starter and was, of course, three speed standard. I bought it for $60. And it was me all over. I drove it for years. There was no other vehicle that fit me, before or since, like that pickup did.

I drove to work with the windows down, of course. This was Houston. And after work, I drove home and American Pie would play. It was big at the time. My hair and mustache blowing in the breeze, I would sing at the top of my lungs and the world was good.

Every time I hear that song, I think of those days. I was 23 years old, with a good job and a fun truck, a pretty wife and an apartment – not necessarily in that order, my pretty sweetheart. I was 23 years old, with a pretty wife and a fun truck, an apartment and a good job – is that better? We went to a church where people liked us and did stuff in it – led singing, the occasional Wednesday evening devotional, taught the kids’ class.

Life was good in a way it has never been since. It is not that life has been bad since, but it was so uncomplicated then.

Don McLean is old now, the song is on the extreme oldies list, no one bemoans the death of Buddy Holly anymore, or understands any of the esoteric words. Oddly enough, I remember just about all the words. For all the good it does me.

But when I hear it, I am 23 again, driving with my hair flying in the breeze, not a care in the world, driving old Ralph, coming home to my pretty wife.

It almost hurts. I sure am glad I got to do it.