Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

Napoleon was once visiting with a group of cynics and these skeptics concluded that Jesus was a great man, a good man, a great prophet, but nothing else. And Napoleon looked at them and said, “:Gentlemen, I know men, and Jesus is more than a man.” That’s the ultimate paradox of the Christian faith. Jesus is God and man.

Sometimes in human relationships, the more we know a person, the more we love them. Now that’s true, not because the more we know people, the greater they become in our eyes, because oftentimes as we know people, we begin to discover their weaknesses, their failures and faults, their shams and their shames. Now unlike our knowing other people, the more we know Jesus, the greater he becomes, and the more we love him. That’s the ultimate paradox of the Christian faith. Jesus is God and man.

This past Sunday Nov. 29, was the beginning of Advent. On the Christian calendar, this was the beginning of our year, marking the coming of Christ into the world. Two weeks ago, Nov. 18 we had one of the many creative events in the life of our community, an event that happens every six weeks. For me it was providential. One of the paintings from the show is pictured here. It was my wife, Jerry’s sketch for a painting of the “Holy Family” she was working on. Her word about the sketch is not only descriptive of the painting, it expresses something about the life of an artist.

I believe the sketch could legitimately be called “The Good Shepherd,” which was one of the great “I AM” claims of Jesus. During this Advent Season, in my desire to know Jesus better, I’m going to spend time pondering these great claims: I am the Good Shepherd, I am the bread of life. I am the door. I am the light of the world. I am the resurrection and the life. If Jesus were a mere man, then we could dismiss him as a mad egotist. But the more we know him, the longer we look at him, the more convinced we are that this is God’s picture of himself. He loves each one of us as though we were the only person in the world to love.

A Word from the Artist: Jerry Dunnam

The Touch

As Mary ponders the future, Joseph holds the baby secure in his protective arms. Baby Jesus stretches out his hand to touch the sheep. No matter how I sketched the Holy Family, baby Jesus was always stretching out his hand to touch the sheep. This troubled me until I remembered Mark 1:40-42. Jesus, the good shepherd, had listened to the leper and having compassion, he stretched out his hand and touched him. Now it was clear. Baby Jesus is reminding us to find, listen to and with compassion, stretch out our hands and touch his lost sheep.

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

Apart from Peanuts, Dennis the Menace may be my favorite comic strip. In a recent cartoon Dennis is in his room with his dog; the cookie jar is open, and Dennis has put four or five on the plate for his dog.

It must have been on Sunday. His mother came into the room, and we can only imagine what she said, but Dennis responds, “Didn’t you hear the preacher say, The Lord helps those who help themselves?”

Most readers, with Dennis, will know that proverb, believing it comes from the Bible. George Barna, a well-known Christian pollster and religious sociologist, opened one of his survey reports with this indictment, “Americans revere the Bible- but, by and large, they don’t read it. And because they don’t read it, we have become a nation of biblical illiterates.”

Some of the data behind that summary is:

Fewer than half of all adults can name the Four Gospels. 

Sixty percent of Americans can’t name even five of the ten commandments. 

Eighty-two percent believe that the proverb “God helps those who help themselves” is found in Scripture. 

Dennis may have heard it wrong. I doubt if any preacher would say that. I hope the preacher would say, where human power and resources are sufficient, divine power will not be put forth.

So I ask, Is it possible to be too dependent upon God?

I know full well that the message of the Gospel is that God helps those who are helpless – not just those who are down–and-out helpless, but like so many of us, who by the grace of God come to an awareness of an up-and-out-helplessness.

The insensitive philosophy of “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” is also too often stated. The problem with that philosophy is that there are too many who don’t have boots, so there are not straps to pull on.

Yet, I pose the question: Is it possible to be too dependent upon God? It may very well be that when and where human power is sufficient, divine power will not be put forth. That challenges each of us to see the needs around us and respond to those needs with the resources we have. 

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

During the last few weeks, when I awake in the middle of the night and don’t return to sleep quickly, not to awaken Jerry, I sing in my mind. Interestingly the most frequent songs that come to mind are Gospel Songs that we sang in the little country church of my youth. I’m 88 years old, and these are songs I heard and sang over 70 years ago. 

The first verse and the chorus of the one that comes most frequently is “When we all get to Heaven,” 

Sing the wondrous love of Jesus 
Sing His mercy and His grace; 
In the mansions bright and blessed 
He’ll prepare for us a place. 

When we all get to Heaven, 
What a day of rejoicing that will be! 
When we all see Jesus, 
We’ll sing and shout the victory! 

I’m sure, since all of us here at Kirby are in my age category, my hunch is you can identify with that, some of you have sung it. We are strongly aware of our mortality, and we think of life after death. We think of that in terms of some vision of Heaven. But let’s get it straight… 

Heaven is Here, not There. 

I often express it this way: Our Father sent his Son, Jesus, not to get us into heaven, but to get heaven into us. By His death and Resurrection, He saves us, but more. In his ascension, through the Holy Spirit He leaves His presence, and his ongoing ministry is getting heaven into us. 

So we share in answering Jesus’ prayer, 
Thy Kingdom come… 
…on Earth as it is in Heaven. 

We seek to live now as though 
the Kingdom had already come. 

How? By being continually open to the Holy Spirit, and “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.” (Galatians 5:22-23) 

Doesn’t all that fruit look like and sound like what we have thought Heaven might look and feel like? Well, that’s the heaven Jesus wants to get into each one of us. 

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

It is no happenstance that Paul wrote the largest portion of the New Testament. I am convinced that he is the person who knew Christ best. Believing that, our potential for knowing Christ is enhanced. Like us, Paul did not know Jesus in the flesh. With a note of sadness, he referred to himself as “one untimely born.” His was an experience of faith, as ours must be. Yet there is no doubt about it – Paul knew Christ, and we can know him as well. 

Grace is the heart-core of the Gospel. Paul is rather dogmatic in stating that: “For by grace you have been saved through faith.” (Eph. 2:8) In his gospel, John states it more expansively, identifying grace with who Jesus is. “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth….. From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.” (John 1:14,16 NIV) 

Even a bit of reflection on these three verses of Scripture makes it obvious that grace is important. In our understanding and living the Christian faith nothing is more important. 

It’s all grace!

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

A person’s actions show you what their words won’t. 

As a child, a term I heard often from a teacher or my Momma was, “Now pay attention.” That’s a term we need to hear and pay attention to throughout life. 

OK? Now pay attention to these words from the French spiritual writer, Simone Weil. “Those who are happy have no need for anything in the world but people capable of giving them their attention. The capacity to give one’s attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing; it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle.” 

Time and attention go together. But the truth is we can give people our time without giving them our attention. In his gospel, Mark tells a story which instructs us here. 

A man with leprosy came to Him and begged Him on his knees, “If You are willing, You can make me clean.” 

Jesus was indignant. He reached out His hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” He said. “Be clean!” 42 Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cleansed. (Mark l:40-42) 

No wonder Mark put this in the first part of his gospel! The leper said to Jesus, “If you are willing, you can make me clean” Packed into one beautiful sentence is almost everything Jesus was, and what he was about. “Jesus was filled with pity for him, and stretched out His hand and placed it on the leper, saying, ‘Of course I want to – be clean!’” (Mark 1:41, Phillips) That tells it all. 

Jesus listened to the leper. Is there anything that enhances our feelings of worth more than being listened to? When you listen to me, you say to me, “I value you. You are important. I will hear what you have to say.” 

Jesus looked at him. He gave the leper His attention. 

Jesus not only listened and looked; He touched the leper. To be generous with our attention, we cannot remain aloof; we must deliberately reach out, touch, and become involved. 

When I give attention by looking, listening, and touching; the Spirit comes alive in relationship. When I listen and look with mind and heart, revelation comes; the gap between the other person and myself is bridged. A sensitivity comes that is not my own. I feel the pain, frustration, and anguish of the other. Beyond myself and my own resources, I become an instrument of miracle-working love. Healing, comfort, reconciliation, strength, and guidance come to others when we generously give them our attention by looking, listening, and touching. 

Pay attention to people that care.
Who are always there.
Who want better for you.
They’re your people.

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

A friend told me this story recently. A seven-year-old girl was sitting on her grandmother’s lap. As the little girl moved her hand casually over the older woman’s face, Grandma said, “Honey, those are my wrinkles. They mean that I’m getting older.” The little girl thought for a moment and then asked, “Grandma, do wrinkles hurt?” 

That’s a loaded question! It involves more than just wrinkles. It deals with the whole business of aging. Age is an issue at all times of our life. In fact, age is an issue of life because our aging determines in large part the pattern of our lives. 

It’s difficult to think of aging without reflecting on retirement. I believe in retirement, but I’m afraid our culture has equated retirement with “ceasing to work”… and ceasing to work has become inactivity or endless days of golfing, fishing, or some other recreation. 

Back to wrinkles; do they hurt? NO! In fact, our wrinkles could mean far more than added years. They could mean 

Wisdom, if we decided to continue growing and sharing; 

Joy, if we used some of our time relating to, and serving others; 

Continued growth, if we did not retire our minds, and involved ourselves in the issues that are impacting our community; 

Spiritual growth, if we banded together with a few others in mutual accountability, if we practiced prayer and regularly shared in public worship. 

We live in a culture which glorifies youth. Notice the people in the TV commercials. We “older folks” need to show America a good image of aging by personifying an exciting sign of wrinkles. The Bible says that “Gray hair is a crown of splendor. (Proverbs 20:29). Many of the biblical heroes were up in age before they did great things. 

Our wrinkles need not hurt. Let’s make them a badge of honor. 

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

A while ago my wife, Jerry, attended a women’s retreat led by a Roman Catholic nun, Sister Susan. A few days after returning from the retreat, Jerry received a letter from Sister Susan which concluded with this prayer, and suggesting that Jerry pray it daily: “Oh God, help me to believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is.” 

What a prayer! Does it shock you? Most of would have problems praying it. Why? Our Christian faith warns about thinking too highly of ourselves than we ought to think. 

Unfortunately, we have misunderstood that and taken it too far. The message of Christianity, the most affirming of all religions, has come through as self-denial. To be sure, there is a place for self-denial, but that must not be seen as self-depreciation or any form of devaluating self. 

As the pinnacle of God’s creation, not proudly, but humbly we should have a high opinion of ourselves. This old story will put it in perspective. A French Prime Minister said to an eminent surgeon who was to operate on him, “You will not, of course, treat me in the same manner as you would your poor, miserable wretches in the hospital.” The surgeon replied, “Sir, every one of those poor, miserable wretches, as your Eminence is pleased to call them, is a prime minister in my eyes.” 

In the eyes of God we are all creatures of potential greatness. Write the prayer down—memorize it. Pray it daily—it will change your life: 

Oh God, help me to believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is.”

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam 

I was spending the night in the hospital room with my mother. Fifteen years before, she had won a tough, ravaging battle with cancer. Now it had struck again. 

She had had a mastectomy that morning and had been sedated all day. In the middle of the night 1 was dozing, but her stirring brought me to alertness. I had the feeling that she wanted to talk, and that she wanted to talk about real things, not just make time-passing conversation. How did she feel? What was she thinking? There was a lot of deep sharing. 

I hope l never forget that night and what she said. “When you give your life to the Lord, Son, everything has to be all right—-no matter what happens.” 

lt was her way of expressing confidence that she was okay in God’s hands. She had known God’s love and care in the past, and she could trust him now. 

That night, Momma taught me that trust is a verb. We trust by relying on God to be true to his promises. At our age, here at Kirby, we trust God’s promise, “I go to prepare a place for you,” and we “ready ourselves” to claim that place. 

CRUSADE for CHRIST 

Wednesday, May 4 | 6:30 pm – Reverend Jimmy Latimer

Thursday, May 5 | 6:30 pm – Reverend Jimmy Latimer 

Friday, May 6 | 6:30 pm – Glory Land Singers

May Vesper Services | 6:30pm | Performing Arts Center 

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam

I’m intrigued by bumper stickers. I sometimes get dangerously close to a car in order to see what is being proclaimed on the bumper sticker.

A recent sticker got my immediate attention, “Kiss an artist today.” That’s easy for me. My wife and my daughter are artists.

But the thought is expansive. I began to reflect. I remembered a story John Powell told about two priests who experienced a rich and
rewarding friendship. They struggled together through the wilderness of long seminary training and worked together in a community ministry.

Then one of the two friends was hit by a car and killed in front of their residence. The other knelt at the side of his old friend, gently
cradled the brother’s head on his arm, and before all the people who had gathered blurted out, “Don’t die! You can’t die! I never told you I loved you.”

It could happen to any one of us, but it need not. Before this day ends, do two things. One, even if you have to call them on the phone or write them a note, tell a person you have not told recently that you love them. Two, for a person you are always telling you love, do something that will validate your words.

Drive carefully, but pay attention to those bumper stickers. Just today I read this one: Don’t believe everything you think.

Reflections by Maxie Dunnam 

Paul’s “Hymn of Love” (First Corinthians 13) is one of the best-known sections of Scripture. In all my years of ministry there have been few weddings in which I have not referred to this great love reflection. When thoughts and reflections are being connected with love, none can do better than to read and spend some time with this “Hymn of Love”. 

“But have not love” is an attention getting phrase that occurs three times in the first three verses of the hymn. “If I speak in the tongues of men and angels — but have not love.” 

“If I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains — but have not love.” 

“If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned — but have not love.” Paul closes his last “but have not love” with the dogmatic word, “I gain nothing.” He makes his point clearly; nothing is of any use if love is missing. Bereft of love, we become less than we are as humans. 

After my sermon, in a conference where I was preaching, people were in a line greeting me. I saw a woman “hanging back.” I knew she wanted a bit more time than the usual greeting and thank you. I was so moved by her affirmation and self-introduction that I spontaneously hugged her. You would have thought I had given a glass of water to a person dying of thirst, or a $1,000 to a penniless beggar. Her face was aglow. “Thank you,” she exclaimed, and added, “Nobody hugs me anymore.” 

She told me more: the loss of her husband 10 years before, her children scattered and she was now living alone. She doesn’t get any hugs. 

If we know we are loved — and hugging helps us to know — we can bear anything. But if we have not love, we become less than human. 

It is easy to grow careless of the ones we are supposed to love. We become thoughtless of the little things that keep love alive. So we don’t hug as much as we should. We don’t speak kind and loving words to our spouses. We take each other for granted, and to take another for granted is to make them less than human. 

Words and actions can wound us, but so can no words and no action. Indifference, disregard, neglect — these are the painful bullets that penetrate our hearts and bring emotional death. These deaths are silent. We don’t see them because we are not looking — we’re not listening. The ears and eyes of our hearts are closed to those around us — sometimes even to those we love. 

Of all that we must be intentional about, love is paramount.