Dave Zuchelli's Blog, page 27

Sex and the Art of Growing Old

I would like to take this time to thank everyone on behalf of my fellow sexagenarians and myself for calling us that (sexagenarians, I mean). I realize the sex in sexagenarians is a prefix meaning sixty, but it actually seems to give us a little extra credit for vim and vigor in our old age. It also lends credence to the recent axiom that says, “Sixty is the new forty.” [image error]

I don’t know how true that axiom happens to be, but I felt considerably better at forty. I had more energy and many fewer aches and pains.

Forty is Still Forty

I suspect forty is still forty, but who knows? You can’t ask the people who are actually forty—they don’t have anything else with which to compare it. I suppose it’s all what you make it.

Unless you’re some kind of amazing physical specimen with a tremendous workout regimen, you’re probably noticing a few chinks in you corporeal armor. Your metabolism may have slowed a bit, you’ve put on a few pounds, and your youthful physique is beginning to give way to the laws of gravity.

The other side of your life should be beginning to balance things out, however. By that I mean your emotional and spiritual components are more than making up for any physical deterioration. The maturation process works FOR you in these areas (unlike in the physical arena).

Body, Soul, and Spirit

The Apostle Paul made reference to these components of our lives in his famous benediction of 1 Thessalonians 5:23. There, he refers to us as beings comprised of body, soul, and spirit. Because we readily recognize the body (along with all its strengths, foibles, and weaknesses), we tend to concentrate on it—sometimes to the exclusion of the soul and spirit.

[image error]As you probably know, the term “soul,” is a reference to our emotional well-being. Our spirit—that part of us that is probably most akin to our Creator—is the real life force within us. Remove that, and we don’t exist as human beings.

Because we can’t readily see the soul and the spirit, we often ignore them. We feed and exercise the body—often with great care. At the same time, we allow our emotional and spiritual health to go down the tubes. At this time in our lives (as sexagenarians, etc.), things should be different.

Even as our bodies are slowing down, our emotional and spiritual states should be in hyper drive. In other words, we should be emotionally and spiritually stronger than ever. Though we are unable to contribute as much to society (in a physical sense) as we used to do, we have much more to offer in the other two areas. In those areas, the maturation process continues to work in our favor.

This all is predicated, of course, on the assumption that we’ve been exercising our emotional and spiritual muscles all along. If you’re just now getting started on those areas, you need to catch up. You’ve got something to contribute. Don’t blow it.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently the pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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I Believe in the Sun

[image error] A now famous poem was found inscribed on a wall in Nazi Germany. Varying stories place its location in different spots. Some say it was found on a cellar wall while others say it was on a partition in a concentration camp. Wherever it was etched, it’s powerful, hopeful, and inspirational. Part of it says the following:

I believe in the sun even when it is not shining.

I believe in love even when I cannot feel it.

I believe in God even when he is silent.

In times such as these, we would do well to grab onto such words and understand them as best we can. When lives are wrecked by violent storms and snuffed out by evil men, there are few things left to which we can cling. Often, our beliefs (and the words which represent them) are the only things we have.

One of the phrases Jesus seemed to use a lot was, “Be not afraid.” Depending on what translation of the Scriptures you check out, you’ll see it alternately rendered as, “Don’t be fearful,” “Fear not,” or “Have no fear.” However we translate it, it all comes out the same. There’s much to fear in this world—some of those fearful things are deep, dark, evil things. Hurricanes, wildfires, snipers, and terrorists are among them. In the face of all these things, Jesus (and Scripture in general) encourages us to set our fears aside.

It’s not that we can become incapable of fear. It’s just that we need not allow our fear to become our master. If the unseen Jesus is our true Master, we ultimately have nothing to dread. Mere head knowledge won’t give that to us. Only our belief in the sun, in love, and in God will accomplish that state of mind and spirit.

It’s More Easily Said Than Done

I realize that’s more easily said than done. It takes a leap of faith. It takes a willingness to grapple with life and reach beyond the visible to a power that is unseen and not truly comprehendible. If a Jew in the midst of the horrors of Nazi Germany could reach out for that invisible strength, I’m pretty sure we can do the same.

[image error]I’m not much of a hymn guy, but there are certain ones that seem to pierce my soul whenever I hear or sing them. One of those is “It Is Well.” A friend of mine recently sent me a link to a YouTube video of Jonathan Rourke explaining the story behind that hymn. I will leave you with that same video and encourage you to watch and listen to it. It will be well worth the few minutes you will invest.

Is it well with your soul? It CAN be if only you’ll trust in what you cannot see, feel, or hear. It all sounds like a wild proposition in our day of cynicism and skepticism. Actually, it IS wild. Still, it’s all we really have. Blessings on you this day… It Is Well.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently the pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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Bible Thumper to False Prophet in Sixty Seconds

When you publish things with the frequency that I do, you get a lot of varying reactions. You gain a few readers and make a few enemies. You endear yourself to some and grate on the nerves of other.

I write this blog, Local Church Prisoners, three times a week. I also put out an e-letter, Pulpit Man @ Large, every Friday. As a result, I get a considerable amount of feedback.

“I can live with that.”

I’m not sure what most people think of me (or my musings) because most people don’t offer a written response. There are some, however, who make their feelings well known. Earlier this year, I was called a Bible thumper. The perpetrator of that remark was apparently a non-believer who had a bit of disgust for people like myself. I can live with that. It comes with the territory.

More recently, however, I was accused of being a false prophet. My accuser’s exact words were, “You are a false prophet destroying people and leading them into HELL.” I have to tell you, that remark shook me up a tad. It’s one thing to have an atheist call you a Bible thumper. It’s quite another to have a brother in Christ call you a false prophet.

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I guess I wouldn’t have minded so much if he had explained his remarks. Unfortunately, he refused to engage me in conversation. Maybe he suspected I wasn’t worth the trouble. I would have liked to know what the error of my ways happened to be. I’ll never get any better if these things aren’t pointed out to me.

Originating From Within the Body

When these sorts of things happen, I try to console myself with the words of Jesus. Toward the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount he said, “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Matthew 5:11-12) I just never expect the insults, persecution, and falsehoods to originate from within the Body of Christ. Apparently, I’m naive.

In a case like that, what does one do? The answer is the same regardless of where the insults are initiated. In his first epistle to the church, Peter said, “Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.” (1 Peter 3:9) So, according to Peter, we have to play nice with the bad guys (so to speak). Peter’s not alone in conveying these sentiments.

The interesting thing about each of these portions of Scripture is how they’re wrapped up. Both Jesus and Peter indicate we will be rewarded or blessed as a result of the insults, lies, and persecutions. It seems like a tough way to be blessed, but I guess I’ll take them any way I can get them.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently the pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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I Just Didn’t Realize…

Last weekend, I made the 4½ hour trek back to my hometown. I try to do that at least a couple times a year, but this particular trip was for a special purpose. Fifty years ago, I graduated from high school with about 125 other young, aspiring adolescents. I’m not sure what all we were aspiring to, but many of us made it back for the annual alumni banquet.

As soon as I began seeing some of those familiar faces from my past, an unfamiliar thought raced through my mind. I just didn’t realize how much I love these guys (and gals)! I hadn’t seen some of them in fifty years. But I quickly realized that the bond was still there.

“It was a bit gratifying…”

I was a shy, introverted, self-conscious teenager attempting to break out of my shell (probably not very successfully at the time). Because of that, there were many of my classmates I never got to know as well as I should have. Still, it was a comfort and a joy to see their faces—not to mention that it was a bit gratifying to discover they still remember me despite my ingrown personality.

[image error]One thing that surprised me was how young they all still look. Sure, we had a couple of wrinkles, a little less hair, and a few more pot guts. But overall, we still seem to have it going on. I’m not sure if that’s just my perspective, or if it’s really true. I suppose a teenager walking into that banquet hall would have merely seen a bunch of old geezers. To me, however, we were still teenagers—a tad more mature and a bit hardened by the past fifty years—but teenagers nonetheless.

I tend to be a bit nostalgic anyway, but this weekend was really good for me. I hope it was the same for everyone else. I’m not sure what it is about nostalgia, but it gets me every time. I’m just a tiny blip on the radar screen of life, so it seems like a really big thing to get back to my roots from time to time.

“No one will even remember…”

My life is quickly passing, and in a couple generations, no one will even remember who I am. But while I’m here, it’s good to know I mean something to at least a few people. The folks who came up and gave me a hug and a big smile mean everything to me. Life doesn’t get much better than that.

Jesus once famously said that the very hairs on our head are numbered (Matthew 10:30). There might be fewer of them to count these days, but they’re important to him—we’re important to him. When everyone else has forgotten us, he’ll remember—in fact, he’ll never forget.

My classmates (as well as many of the other alumni who gathered last weekend) are a part of me. They helped to make me who I am—for good or for ill. May they always be blessed and remembered.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is currently pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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Asleep at the Wheel: The Class of ’67

[image error]I’ve become one of those old guys I used to laugh at. You know—the ones who always fell asleep in front of the TV set. Now, that’s me. Oh, the humanity!

By the time this hits the blogosphere, I will be wending my way back home from Ridgway High’s Class of ’67 celebration. It’s now fifty years since we’ve graduated. Unbelievable!

It was only yesterday that I could stay up and watch Johnny Carson (anyone remember him?). These days, I can barely make it through the ninth inning of the Pirate game—especially the way they’re playing. But let’s not talk about that.

“Fifty years seemed like an eternity…”

Fifty years used to seem like such a long time. Now, it’s just a long time ago. When I graduated, fifty years seemed like an eternity. Now, it would be nice to think I had fifty years left. On second thought, I’m not sure I’d want to live to be 117. The pot gut and arthritis would be killers by then—they’re bad enough now.

Since this has been written prior to the celebration, I’m assuming we all had a good time. If there ever was any bad blood among us in our adolescence, I suspect it’s all been forgotten by now. Hopefully, only the good memories will remain to discuss. I suppose we’ll make up a few as well.

I just peeked a glance at the schedule of events for the celebratory weekend. Whoever planned this baby out was definitely on their game. The reunion banquet begins with a happy hour from five to six o’clock. Smart… Most of us will be ready for bed by nine.

“A few old Beatle tunes…”

After the happy hour, there will be a buffet, a program, and a DJ. I suppose a DJ is a necessary evil, but I’m guessing most of us would rather just talk to each other. Dancing to (or yelling above) music will not be a priority. It will definitely give my hearing aids a workout. I suppose some of us will bail (just to have a little peace and quiet). I hope the DJ has at least a few old Beatle tunes in the repertoire (anyone remember them?).

[image error]The program should prove to be interesting. I’ve been asked to be the designated clergy (translation: say a quick prayer, sit down, and shut up). Anyone who knew me in 1967 will be shocked to see that I’m the one standing up to pray. I’m a little shocked myself. Things were a bit different fifty years ago. I guess I sort of believed in Jesus back then, but public prayer was definitely not my favorite pastime.

This is not my first go around, though. I once attended my lovely Bride’s class reunion and was asked to give the opening prayer at that event. No one knew who I was, so there was no snickering during the prayer. I’m not so sure that will be the case where my past has been well documented. At least it will keep me awake.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is currently pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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Burn Your Flag or Your Jersey: What’s a Mother to Do?

[image error]The furor over the NFL’s weak-kneed (pardon the pun) stance concerning the disrespect of the nation’s flag and National Anthem continues to rage on. People are rushing to take sides. What’s a mother to do?

As ever more light is shed on this subject, some strange happenings are taking place. Alejandro Villanueva, the lone Pittsburgh Steeler to emerge from the team’s locker room to stand and place a hand over his heart, has become a national hero. While many Pittsburgh fans are burning their jerseys and other team paraphernalia, Villanueva jersey sales have skyrocketed. Ironically, Villanueva felt the need to apologize to his teammates.

“God Save the Queen”

The Ravens and Jaguars played their game in England this past weekend. Prior to the game, the players stood for “God Save the Queen.” Many of them took a knee during their own National Anthem. My guess is most of them don’t understand the implications of such actions. Ravens fans are less than pleased (at least the ones I know).

The Cowboys, along with their owner (Jerry Jones), took a knee prior to the anthem, then stood for the anthem itself. I guess they were trying to dis the president of the United States while respecting the country itself. No one seems to know for sure. Directv subscribers are calling in by the droves to cancel their NFL Sunday Ticket package.

If you go to YouTube and search for “NFL fan burns jersey,” you’ll find dozens of posts. People are disgusted with their players, their teams, their owners, and the NFL in general. It’s a rather amazing sight to behold.

[image error]I used to worry that football (and sports in general) had become the new religion of Americans. I remember, years ago, a group of guys forming the Church of Monday Night Football. I suppose it was a joke of sorts, but they were as rabid as any Wednesday night Pentecostal. It definitely gave me pause.

To see rabid fans turning their backs on their Sunday afternoon heroes gives me a new perspective on Americans in general. It seems there are more important things in their lives. Who knew?

Denigrating the Symbol

One memorable Maryland woman stood beside the American Flag and lectured her team (the Steelers), tore off her Steeler shirt, and burned it along with a Steeler flag. It turns out we really do have American ideals in this country. People, young and old, male and female, seem to have had it with millionaire prima donnas denigrating the symbol of their hard fought battles.

The worst part of it all is how the whole thing has backfired. The original intent of taking the knee has all but been forgotten. The protest has become more important than the presumed cause behind it.

Maybe this Sunday morning there will be a few less people gathering in sports bars to get the best seats for the game. They might even show up for worship. I guess the church is safe for now (even though we take a knee quite a bit).

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is currently pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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Praying in the NFL

Everyone seems to be up in arms over the NFL and its policy (or lack thereof) when it comes to the posture of their athletes during the playing of the National Anthem. Over the past couple of years, it’s become more and more vogue for players to “take a knee” during the traditional standing for the anthem. It seems to have begun with quarterback Colin Kaepernick and headed south from there.[image error]

I say, “headed south,” because it’s become a huge distraction. One of my favorite Sunday afternoon pastimes is to come home from worship, relax in front of my wide screen, and watch my beloved Pittsburgh Steelers chase the old pigskin for three hours. This past Sunday, it was certainly less than fulfilling.

One Lonely Figure

Not only did my boys in black and gold perform with considerably less finesse than usual, they lost in overtime to the lowly Bears. But that wasn’t the worst part. My guys didn’t even show up to the field for the anthem. One lonely figure stood at the entranceway to the locker room with his hand over his heart (offensive lineman and former Army Ranger, Alejandro Villanueva). The team was told to stay in the locker room to avoid team disunity—bad move—maybe.

Frankly, I didn’t care so much when a few disgruntled players from other teams drew the ire of fans by taking the knee. But when my own fan favorites weenied out by hiding in the locker room, I was highly disappointed. I’ve been arduously watching the Steelers since I was thirteen (fifty-four years). For some reason, I just figured they were above such shenanigans. I was wrong.

“The protests became the show…”

Instead of the usual, good natured bantering back and forth by fans, Sunday’s social media exploded with name calling and badmouthing over the efficacy of protesting in this manner. Even my lovely Bride refused to watch the game (and she’s a bigger football fan than I happen to be). The protests became the show, and the games were a distant second to the off-the-field debates.

[image error]I’m not exactly sure why the NFL has allowed this to go on. These are the people whose shield is fashioned after the nation’s flag. Check it out sometime. It’s red, white, and blue with a field of white stars. These guys who are taking a knee are wearing the flag on their uniforms. It seems a bit ironic to say the least.

The thing that really gets me, however, is the coverage of these protests. When a player kneels on the sidelines during the anthem, the cameras are all over him. The people who provide this coverage are the same folks who refuse to show the players who take the knee together following each game to pray in the middle of the field. I find that a tad hypocritical. They don’t want to offend anyone by showing those nasty prayer warriors. If anyone is offended by the guys dissing the anthem, however—well, that’s just tough.

Prayer out… Protest in…

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is currently pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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Don’t Lose Your Phone

A recent Facebook story:

Several men are in the locker room of a golf club. A cellular phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands-free speaker function and begins to talk. Everyone else in the room stops to listen.

MAN: “Hello”

WOMAN: “Hi Honey, it’s me. Are you at the club?”

MAN: “Yes.

WOMAN: “I’m at the shops now and found this beautiful leather coat. It’s only $2,000; is it OK if I buy it?”

MAN: “Sure, go ahead if you like it that much.”

WOMAN: “I also stopped by the Lexus dealership and saw the new models. I saw one I really liked.”

MAN: “How much?”

WOMAN: “$90,000.”

MAN: “OK, but for that price I want it with all the options.”

WOMAN: “Great! Oh, and one more thing. I was just talking to Janie and found out that the house I wanted last year is back on the market. They’re asking $980,000 for it.”

MAN: “Well, then go ahead and make an offer of $900,000. They’ll probably take it. If not, we can go the extra eighty-thousand if it’s what you really want.”

WOMAN: “OK. I’ll see you later! I love you so much!”

MAN: “Bye! I love you, too.”

The man hangs up. The other men in the locker room are staring at him in astonishment, mouths wide open.

He turns and asks, “Anyone know who’s phone this is?”

Apparently, it doesn’t pay to lose your cell phone. I’ve lost mine a few times, but it’s never resulted in the kind of catastrophe the poor, unnamed guy in the story suffered. Thank goodness for the app that locates it for you.[image error]

I’ve lost it underneath the seat of my car a couple of times. The app showed it was at my home, but it still took awhile to find it and almost as long to retrieve it.

Another time I lost it at my sister’s. The app showed me exactly where it was—also under the seat of her car. That one was a bit easier.

The most interesting time, however, was the last time I misplaced it. I left a doctor’s office, stopped off in the restroom, then headed for home. When I arrived, I realized I didn’t have my phone, but I knew exactly where I had left it. I doubled back to the office and headed to the restroom. It was gone (the phone, not the restroom). The office building had no place for lost and found items, so I headed back home, jumped on my computer, and checked the app.

I could see the phone moving along a street. I figured I had lost it for good this time. Fortunately, the app also has an alert button that makes the phone flash and gives the carrier a way to call your home phone. He immediately called me and I drove to meet him and retrieve my phone. What a hassle! I need to get a nerd strap.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is currently pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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Saint Bob

[image error]I had the privilege of attending a funeral a couple days ago. I say it was a privilege for at least two reasons. Number one: I didn’t have to preach. During most funerals I attend, I find myself standing in front of the family and friends of the deceased, reminding them of the promise of the Gospel. For this one, I was merely a participant in the crowd of worshipers. That alone, was a pleasant change.

More importantly, however, was the second reason I call it a privilege. The person whose life and memory we were celebrating was really one to be admired. Bob is a saint if ever there was one.

I never got to spend much time with him during his days here on this earth. I know other members of his family much more intimately than I knew him. But the few moments here and there which we were together were memorable. They were so because I didn’t have to spend much time with him to realize I was standing in the presence of a godly man.

He Set a High Standard

Bob had one of the sweetest, gentlest spirits I’ve ever encountered in my lifetime. He was one of those guys I would have found it difficult not to like (even if I had wanted to do so). He was warm and engaging, and living up to his legacy will be tough. He set quite a high standard.

One of his daughters once told me about a foray he made into McDonalds. As he was standing in line waiting to order, he struck up a conversation with the strangers behind him. By the time he got to the front to order his fries, he was talking to them about Jesus. That’s the way he lived his life.

Bob always reminded me a lot of the guy who led me to Christ many years ago. They both seemed to be cut out of the same mold. To each of them, Jesus was the ultimate; and introducing people to him was just as important. Guys like them just don’t seem to come around every day.

During the funeral service, one of his granddaughters sang a song entitled “The Promise.” It‘s one of those songs that pierce your heart and land deep into your soul. It captures the understanding that people like Bob have of Jesus. The poignant lyrics convey the promise we all have in Christ.

I never said that I would give you silver or gold

Or that you would never feel the fire or shiver in the cold

But I did say you’d never walk through this world alone

And I did say, don’t make this world your home

I never said that fear wouldn’t find you in the night

Or that loneliness was something you’d never have to fight

But I did say I’d be right there by your side

And I did say I’ll always help you fight

Rest in peace, Saint Bob. Hope to see you soon!

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is currently pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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Just Say an Act of Contrition

[image error] I grew up under the auspices of the Roman Catholic Church. I can remember, as a youthful sinner, being in the confessional and saying a prayer aptly named the “Act of Contrition.” Being in that box all alone with a priest on the other side of the thinly veiled, sliding window was intimidating enough. Reciting that prayer, which I had meticulously memorized, seemed to add to the aura of godliness on the other side of the wall. Everything was magnified in that humbling situation, of course, because I was guilty as sin. (I suppose that’s where that expression originated.)

Asking for forgiveness from God is one thing. Having to ask for it from a living, breathing, human being is quite another. It’s not something most of us jump at the chance to do.

“I hadn’t seen a need for an apology.”

Keeping that in mind, I found it to be humbling and astonishing at the same time when (on three separate occasions over the past year) different individuals came to me to ask for my forgiveness. I suppose this actually happened to me more than three times during this period. However, those three particular incidents were extremely memorable, because (in each of those situations) I hadn’t seen a need for an apology. None of those folks had offended me in any way (at least not in a way that I had recognized). Still, they each felt the need to come to me face-to-face and ask for forgiveness.

Of course, I forgave each of them and assured them there was no need for an apology. But the result of their actions caused me to take pause and reflect on our reticence (and occasionally, our inability) to humble ourselves enough to approach others with a penitent attitude.

A Contrite Heart

What I immediately noticed was that my respect for each of these individuals grew dramatically. It’s not that I disrespected them before the fact, but my level of admiration for them rose significantly. It seems to me it takes a real man (or woman) just to admit one’s wrongs. But to then approach the wronged individual with a contrite heart would take real humility. It’s a hard thing to do and a hard lesson to learn. That kind of character cannot be found in just anyone.

[image error]The other side to that type of occurrence happens when people forgive someone before it’s requested. In Scripture, we see Messiah doing just that. You may remember the passage that describes the scene where a paralytic was lowered through someone’s roof to bypass the crowds around Jesus (Luke 5:17-26). As far as we can tell, the paralyzed man never asked for forgiveness. Despite that, Jesus forgave his sins anyway. The reason given for the Savior’s forgiveness had nothing to do with the man at all. Jesus forgave him when “he saw their faith”—they being the paralytic’s friends.

All in all, forgiveness seems to be a rather complicated subject. We should probably give it a little more consideration in our daily lives. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is currently pastor of Smith Chapel in Great Falls, VA.]

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