Ken Pierpont's Blog, page 36

Bright Promises for Dark Times (Sermon) Video

Series: Restored Better Than New (Joel)

Sermon: Bright Promises for Dark Times (Joel 2:28-32)

Bethel Church; Jackson, Michigan

January 18, 2020AM

Ken Pierpont–Lead Pastor

Bittersweet Farm Journal (Number 72) What Does God Want Me to Want?

It’s foggy out on Bittersweet tonight–foggy and warm for a winter night. They say it might get a little weird later, the fog turning into an ice-storm or “wintery mix” accompanied by high winds toward morning. I hope to ride that out from the comfort of my bed or the cozy corner of the upstairs room where I like to write, with a mug of pour-over coffee close at hand.

I love the look of snow when it is falling. Who doesn’t love an innocent covering of snow on the world if the roads are clear and safe. Snow is fine but every day the roads are clear and the temperatures are above normal is one day closer to spring. Each day is getting a little longer now that we’ve passed the winter solstice. The house is quiet tonight. There is a sense of calm before the storm.

Jan Karon says weather is a writer’s friend. In A Mitford Bedside Companion she writes; “I find weather one of the most useful tools ever made available to an author, not to mention poets, whose work absolutely thrives on it. The Mitford novels are full of weather, and would be intolerably weak tea without it.”

What is it that makes us pull a little closer to the radio when the weather report comes on and sink a little deeper into the comfort of our chair. Why it is that when you hear about a storm coming in on the car radio you enjoy the snug comfort of the cabin of your car just a little more?

Tonight’s moon is full, but It doesn’t sound like we will get a good look at it since it will be shrouded in fog and overcast.

What Does God Want Me to Want?

The house is quiet. I’m alone here for a bit. The ladies have gone to town. A couple of the grandchildren, Aspn and Gunnison have been with us for two days, but a few hours ago we saw them off toward home and the house grew quiet. I miss the times when the children were all at home under one roof. I’m not sure how we did it but I miss it. Ten noisy people all under one modest roof. The last place we all lived under one roof was in the Pine Street Parsonage in Fremont, Michigan, a small town in northern Michigan famous as the home of Gerber Baby Food.

Late at night I had a ritual when we lived there. Just before turning in I would stand where the children’s bedroom doors opened into the hall and I would pray for the children. My prayer was simple and came from the deepest part of my soul. “Lord let each of our children love you with all their heart and with all their might all the days of their lives and may they never turn aside from you.”

Now only Hope lives at home and some time later this year she will marry and move away. Bittersweet indeed. Now I usually pray for Lois and then each of the children and grandchildren first thing in the morning. Over all these almost forty years of being a dad my prayer has not changed much.

I pray continually for each of our children and our grandchildren to love the Lord with all their heart and all their souls all their lives. I have no higher ambition for them than that they are Bible-believing, God-fearing, church-going, Christ-honoring, repentant, humble followers of Jesus. I pray that God will strengthen me to be a life-long unbroken example of a man who loves Jesus with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength and never turns aside to the very end of his days.

Sixteen Things to Pray for Your Children

A friend of mine Tom Harmon, a retired Michigan State Trooper and itinerant Bible preacher, prays with his wife Joyce every day for each of his children, these sixteen things.

–Their salvation.

–Their mate.

–That they would fall in love with God’s Word.

–That God would keep them from the evil one.

–That they would have a conscience void of offence before God and man.

–That their character would be more valuable to them than their credentials.

–That they would stand up for what is right even if it means standing alone.

–That they would be kept from the love of money.

–That they would be kept morally pure.

–That they would have the heart of a servant.

–That eternity would burn in their hearts.

–That sin would always be distasteful to them and that they would be broken easily over sin.

–That they would love each other.

–That they would trust God with their parents and not allow rebellion to set in.

–Regardless the hardship, that they may never become bitter against God.

–That our boys would be glad to be boys and our girls glad to be girls.

What is your greatest desire for those you love? What do you pray for them? At the beginning of the year it is a good idea to ask yourself the question; “What does God want me to want?”

Have a good place and a good time to pray. Most of what we need most only God can do and when you need what only God can do, pray.

Bittersweet Farm

January 10, 2020

Like A Quiet River

Like a Quiet River

The house descends into quiet

this winter night

Moonlight shines on the floor

The weight of the quilt

warms our weary bodies

The hum of the furnace

lulls us into slumber

I pillow my head

Thankful thoughts flow through my heart

Like a quiet river

Years of unbroken grace and mercy

Like a quiet river

Restored Better Than New (Sermon) Audio

Series: Restored Better Than New

Sermon: Lament and Repent (Joel 1:1–2:17)

Bethel Church | Jackson, Michigan

January 5, 2020 AM

Ken Pierpont–Lead Pastor

https://kenpierpont.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/2020-01-05-Lament-and-Repent.mp3

Lament and Repent (Sermon) Video

Series: Restored Better Than New

Sermon: Lament and Repent (Joel 1:1–2:17)

Bethel Church | Jackson, Michigan

January 5, 2020 AM

Ken Pierpont–Lead Pastor

Plain Talk in the Pulpit

Charles Spurgeon

I believe preaching should be plain, clear, sound, and interesting. I am not being criticized for my preaching though I have felt the sting of it in the past. The great Charles Spurgeon was criticized thoroughly and publicly for his plain, common-man speech and the direct manner of his thematic messages. He once wrote this:

“We have most certainly departed from the usual manner preaching, but we do not feel bound to offer even half a word of apology for so doing, since we believe ourselves free to use any manner of speech which is calculated to impress the truth upon our hearers.” —Charles Spurgeon

Spurgeon later wrote that he was not sure laughter in the pulpit was a sin and that he thought it less a crime to cause momentary laughter, than a half-hour of profound slumber. He would rather have people laughing then sleeping through his talks.

Bittersweet Farm Journal (Number 71) Big News!

Last night about midnight our baby, Hope America arrived home from Holiday Nights at Greenfield Village. She had some new jewelry–a diamond ring on her left hand! Her boyfriend, Tim Kolb is now her fiance. They are planning a wedding some time this year. It’s a happy time out on Bittersweet. Tim and Hope met a the weddings of two of Tim’s siblings where Lois and Hope were photographers. Tim is from Britton, Michigan. He is a nurse at Saint Joseph Mercy Hospital in Ann Arbor. You can expect some engagement photos soon.

Here is what Hope wrote:

“Last night my sweet Timothy took me to Holiday Nights at Greenfield Village, drank hot cocoa with me, laughed and talked with me, and then got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. I haven’t stopped smiling from ear to ear since that moment. Tim, I’ve imagined a million different versions of who my future fiancé might be but I was never able to imagine how amazing you would be or how much I would love you and everything about you. You put so much time and effort into planning every detail of our special moment last night and you did it all so perfectly. And my ring is just so much more beautiful than any ring I ever would’ve chosen myself. You did so good lover! I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life getting to know you and love you and do everything alongside of you. You’re never getting rid of me now, baby”

Christmas Birds

Christmas this year was not white but it was golden. The sun shown and warmed the earth like a spring day. The bird feeders were empty because the squirrels out-hustle me. Grandchildren visited Bittersweet Farm at Christmas. I love to putter around and do little “farm chores” when the grandchildren are here. We moved our little chapel bird-feeder to the front porch where the squirrels can’t get to it and filled it with black-oil sunflower seeds. We keep the sunflower seeds in a clean trash can in the Carriage House with a tight lid so the mice can’t get to them.

There is something therapeutic about feeding the birds. I know the birds don’t really need me to feed them, but I feel that it is rendering a kindness to them. I feel like it is a humanitarian act. It’s a small kindness and it is not without its rewards. (I get to watch the graceful creatures come and go).

For some reason happiness comes to my soul when I fill the feeders. I hang the feeder and I hear a voice. It’s a voice I have come to recognize through the years. I believe it is the voice of the Spirit in my soul. It is consistent with the Scriptures. “I care about the birds and I care about people. There is a simplicity and sweetness in showing kindness to people. Show kindness to the people in your life.”

I answer in silent prayer; “Help me, Lord. I want to be a kind man. Help me to show kindness to the people in my life.”

I fill the feeder and I go inside. I grind some coffee beans. The aroma of the grounds perfumes the air. I warm water on the stove until the kettle whistles. I pour the water over the grounds and make myself a cup of coffee. I walk to the window. Within a few hours the whole front of the house is alive with birds.

“But 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, ESV)

Bittersweet Farm

December 29, 2019

What A Wonderful Child-The King (Sermon) Audio

What A Wonderful Child-The King (Matthew 2:1-12)

Bethel Church–Jackson, Michigan

December 22, 2019AM

Ken Pierpont, Lead Pastor

https://kenpierpont.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/12/2019-12-15-What-A-Wonderful-Child-The-Word-1.mp3

What A Wonderful Child-The King (Sermon) Video

What A Wonderful Child-The King (Matthew 2:1-12)

Bethel Church–Jackson, Michigan

December 22, 2019AM

Ken Pierpont, Lead Pastor

Bittersweet Farm Journal (Number 70) Christmas Luck

Out on Bittersweet Farm we are waiting for Christmas on tiptoes. Some of the family will be with us on Christmas Day a week from tomorrow. There is a dusting of snow on the ground and the sun is shining out over the south woods into the window over my right shoulder. At Bethel there are two more services before Christmas, Sunday morning and the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service. This year we will welcome the worshippers with luminaries to light their way to worship the Christ-child. We will end the service with hundreds of candles lighting the building and with the singing of traditional carols to embed the story once again into the hearts of people.

Early this morning I was reading a journal entry from January 2004 where I described living in a John Sloane house in the country and writing at a desk in an upstairs room. I prayed for it, giving that desire to the Lord; “Nevertheless, not as i will but as you will…” It was God’s will. Today I have such a home and such a room and such a desk under the window looking out over the south woods. God has been good.

I’ve crafted a Christmas story for you that has been growing in my heart for a few years. I hope it brings some Christmas to your soul…

Christmas Luck

 

Perry liked the idea of Christmas in movies and books but his Christmases had never been anything like the ones in movies and books. He grew up in a home with equal parts of anger, alcohol abuse, and pitiful attempts at love year ‘round. Those elements were even more intense at Christmastime.

Now he had wife, Liz and a son Tyler, and he wanted things to be right for them. It weighed on him as he walked along the street toward home. He could feel the cold through the soles of his shoes. He could feel the wind biting at him through holes in his jacket. His head and hands were bare. He thrust his hands deep into his pockets and played with the change—the proceeds from redeeming a garbage bag full of pop cans at the liquor store. This was all that was left after the bills were paid and Christmas was two days away.

If he could just get a few groceries for a home-cooked meal and some cookies, a small tree and a gift for Tyler. Tyler was three. He wondered what a three-year-old could remember. Would he be able to afford a gift and a tree and a meal so his boy’s first Christmas memories would be happy?

His spirit was dismal but the city around him was aglow with Christmas and covered in a perfect blanket of white. He was six blocks from home. His spirit was heavy…

He was walking along a route he had walked hundreds of times before but tonight something was different. The massive building on his right was always dark. It was a huge stone church usually dark as a tomb. He had never seen the building at night when it wasn’t dark and closed. Tonight light shown from within through stained-glass windows throwing colored patterns on the snow.

“Well, how about that! They are open for business tonight. They must be warming up for Christmas Eve,” he thought. He didn’t usually let his mind dwell on God and heaven and hell and angels and devils. He usually had other things on his mind.

He hurried on in the cold to the corner and for the first time ever looked up to read the church sign. “Christmas Eve Candlelight Service. 6:00 p.m.” Beside the sign was a manger scene. Mary. Joseph. Shepherds. Wise Men. A baby doll was wrapped in a thick blanket and laying on the hay in a wooden manger. He stood for a moment and looked at the baby.

He smiled. “Why not?” he thought. He took a deep breath as if he was about to jump off a cliff into cold water and said, “O.K. Baby Jesus, if you are real I need some help here. Could you hook me up with enough money to get tree, a gift for Tyler and a meal on Christmas? I would really appreciate it.”

He smiled again and thought—“Hey, it’s worth a try. Who knows. Maybe someone is up there listening.” He chuckled under his breath and wondered if what he said really counted as a prayer. He didn’t have much experience in these things. Maybe it was just hot breath rising up into a cold night.

A man sold Christmas trees on a vacant lot across from the church. He stood by a fire. The smoke and the pines perfumed the air. The lot was illuminated by a make-shift rope of bare light-bulbs. The sound of Christmas music hung on the air. The old fella’ by the fire wore a worn Stormy Kromer cap with the flaps pulled down over his ears. He smiled at Perry and gestured toward a sign that read. “Free hot cocoa and peppermint sticks.”

“Why not,” he thought, crossing the street.

“You look cold,” the man shouted over the music. “Warm up by my fire and help me drink some of this cocoa.”

“Thanks. Thanks so much.” Perry stood there with the old man quietly and they sipped their cocoa, listened to the music, and looked out on the street and across at the church. Horns sounded in the distance.

“Can I interest you in a tree?”

“How much are they?”

“Tonight any tree—fifty dollars.”

“That is about forty-five dollars over my budget,” Perry said, chuckling.

Just then a black BMW whisked up to the curb and a young man jumped out and strode onto the lot. “Merry Christmas men,” He shouted.

The old man returned the greeting. “Merry Christmas.”

“I’d like the tallest tree you have. We have a new house this year with a cathedral ceiling.”

“Well, I’m sure I have just the tree for you. Do you have a way to get it home?”

“Don’t you deliver? Last year your partner delivered.”

“I’m working the lot alone this year. My partner had an issue with his ticker. He took off for Florida just after Thanksgiving. Couldn’t help this year. You can borrow my truck if you know how to drive stick.”

“That’s a problem,” the young man in the BMW said. “But if you can figure out a way to deliver it I will make it worth your while.

The old man turned toward Perry. “Hey, you wanna’ watch my lot while I deliver this? Or can I hire you to deliver the tree? If you deliver the tree you can pick out a small one for yourself. Do you drive stick?”

“Since I was ten.” Perry said, “You have a deal. I’ll do your delivery. You stay here by the fire.”

Perry loaded a huge fir into the back of the truck and followed the black BMW to the nice end of town. He helped wrestle the tree through the double front door and set it up. It towered up toward the ceiling in front of a two-story arched window. He trimmed away some of the lower branches, and helped get the strings of lights working and stung them on the tree.

“I really better be going, Liz is going to wonder what happened to me.”

The young man stepped toward Perry extended his hand. “Thank you, friend. Thank you very much. I don’t think I could ever have gotten those lights going.”

“Glad to help,” Perry said, taking his hand.

In his hand he felt a small square of folded paper. “You don’t have to tip me. I’m getting my own tree out of this deal.”

“Hey. It’s Christmas. Merry Christmas,” he said with warmth.

Without looking down Perry slipped the bill into his pocket and walked back to the truck. The cab was warm. Carols were on the radio. He paused in front of the house. The tree shown through dozens of panes of glass in the big arched window. He pulled away and found his way back to the tree lot. When He got back he picked a tree small enough to carry home.

“Thanks,” He said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the old man returned.

He started back across the street toward the church and up the block. Just then he remembered the bill folded in his pocket. He crossed the street and stopped to look at the bill in the light spilling out of the church windows. When he unfolded the bill he looked down to discover that it was a one-hundred dollar bill.

He sucked in his breath. “Wow, imagine my luck tonight,” he thought.

Just then the church bells began to ring. At first he was startled by the sound then tears spring to his eyes. He dropped to his knees in the snow in front of the manger scene and prayed for the second time in years.

“Oh. Wow. Thank you so much. Thank you. I don’t know what to say Baby Jesus.”

He laughed at himself and got slowly back to his feet looking up at the bell tower. The chimes echoed out over the city.

Perry smiled. “Merry Christmas, God.” He said with a chuckle and then again, choking back tears, “Merry Christmas, Baby Jesus. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

He put his tree over his shoulder and suddenly warmth spring from his heart and reached all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes.

Bittersweet Farm

December 2019