July 2 - The Good News from Fox Hill

                                            MUSTARD SEED FAITH
Ezekiel 17: 22-24 -- The sign of the cedar, planted on the mountain of Israel
2 Corinthians 5: 6-17 -- In Christ, a new creation
Mark 4: 30-32 -- The parable of the mustard seed 
  Ezekiel 17: 22-24 
  Thus says the Lord GOD: I myself will take a sprig from the lofty top of a cedar; I will set it out. I will break off a tender one from the topmost of its young twigs; I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain. On the mountain height of Israel I will plant it, in order that it may produce boughs and bear fruit, and become a noble cedar. Under it every kind of bird will live; in the shade of its branches will nest winged creatures of every kind. All the trees of the field shall know that I am the LORD. I bring low the high tree, I make high the low tree; I dry up the green tree and make the dry tree flourish. I the LORD have spoken; I will accomplish it.

 Mark 4: 30-32
Jesus also said, "With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade."
             
 So, it is true that faith really matters here in Fox Hill, Wisconsin, my hometown. The only sound breaking the silence of that sleepy village on this past Tuesday afternoon was the roar of Pastor David Martin’s chain saw, then the celebrated shout of “Timber!”  Then the whump of a tree as it crashes to the ground and the subsequent cry of “Uf dah!” from the rather inexperienced lumberjacks.
                Ever since his semi-retirement as the pastor of Fox Hill Lutheran Church, David Martin has been looking for projects around his lake cottage to keep himself busy.  Right along the lakeshore was a fairly tall tree that had died several years ago.  He had wanted to cut it down while the wood was still good and before it got all rotten and fell down on its own.
                So he called his brother, Rupert, to come to Lake Madsen from Green Bay and give him a hand.  With joking parishioners making comments like, “I sure hope he has more skill with that chain saw than he did delivering sermons,” he realized he could use a little assistance.  David would operate the chain saw and Rupert would be the brains of the project.  Not wanting the tree to fall back into the lake, Rupert attached a rope to the upper part of the tree to guide it more toward the cottage so the guys could then work on it across the back lawn, sawing the tree into sections.  David had eyeballed the height of the tree and estimated that if Rupert pulled the falling tree just a little to the left, it would land just short of the back deck of the cottage.  The plan would have worked perfectly if it weren’t for a significant miscalculation of the height of the tree.
                There were actually two shouts of “Oh no!”  Now, “Oh no” is the PG-rated translation of the Norwegian phrase, “Uf dah!”  The first shout came when both men realized at about the same time, right after impact, that the top of the tree was crashing down on the Martin’s back deck.  The second “Oh no!” came from Rupert when he saw the base of the tree kick back from its stump and catch his brother, David, still holding the chain saw, square on his chest. 
When the tree hit him hard, David felt like his life flashed before his eyes. He had always been diminutive in stature, the smallest kid in the class, the last one chosen for sports teams. He had a girl friend in primary school who always called him “Half pint.” But he always felt that God had a special plan, a special purpose, for his life. Even at an early age, he had sensed a calling from God to be a Pastor. He dreamed, as a youngster, of being a professional baseball player for the Milwaukee Braves in the summer and a minister in the winter. When he tried out for the middle school baseball team, he was astounded at how much larger and stronger all the other boys were. They towered above him like mighty sequoia trees, making him feel like shrubbery. That half of the dream was dead, but for this half pint, the dream was still half full. The call to be a pastor was still alive and it would be protected and encouraged by his family, his pastor and home congregation in Green Bay, and even his friends who thought him unique.
Now he had indeed become a pastor and served for over 40 years. He had never become a bishop, although one year he did come in second place at a synod assembly. But he had been blessed with the last 31 years being a big fish in a small pond, or a big tree in a little forest, at Fox Hill Lutheran Church. He had a purpose. He had fulfilled God’s plan. His little life had value and meaning. He could depart in peace.
Thankfully, the chain saw went flying as did David who was propelled rear end first into the lake. Knowing that he had a safe water landing, David realized that the worst case scenario was now the smashing of all of his wife, Judy’s, potted plants on the deck railing.  Most of the pots and the plants in them had been crushed and destroyed.  But one – a particularly hardy geranium – has not only survived the whipping leaves and branches of the fallen tree; but its knobby, ragged stems had protected what was discovered to be a bird’s nest inside the pot.  And inside the nest was one undisturbed egg.
                What sounded like the great and final apocalypse to Judy had awakened her from her afternoon nap.  She slid open the deck door at the same time as her soggy husband climbed up the deck stairs from the yard.  There they both found Rupert tenderly holding the bird’s nest in his hands.  Now David and Judy had spent many hours feeding and watching the birds, don’tcha know, and had become fairly adept at recognizing and identifying all the different birds and their eggs.  Any anger Judy might have had due to the repeated ineptitude of her husband was quickly dispelled by the awareness that this survivor was the egg of the very rare schroon bird – a cross between a screech owl and a loon.  Defying the threat of extinction, this little geranium had protected this tiniest of eggs from the fall of a mighty cedar tree.  Well, the story grows better every time it’s told, don’tcha know.
                “It’s a miracle!’ said the pastor.  “No,” he added, “more than a miracle.  It’s a metaphor of faith and life.”
                “What’ch you talking about, Willis?” joked his brother.
                “Sure,” the pastor went on.  “It’s just like the parable of Jesus when he compared the kingdom of God to a mustard bush.  Judy, she is like God.”
                “Oh my,” said his blushing wife.
                “See, she planted a tiny seed and tended to the soil and the water so that the geranium would grow strong and healthy.  Rupert, you and I are like sin and pride, the work of the devil.”
                “Wait, what?” Rupert asked.
                “Sure, we were so impressed by the great size of this cedar of Lebanon and thought that we could reap huge benefits from its great store of wood.”
                “Well, that might be what you were thinking,” he retorted.
                “Yes, and look what happened.  Our actions caused destruction and injury, not just to the mighty cedar, but to me and my deck and Judy’s plants.  But God had provided a simple, small geranium plant to protect one of God’s valuable creatures.  Two of God’s valuable creatures: that egg and me!”
                “You don’t have to tell me, brother Dave.  I thought you could have been killed by that tree or drowned in the lake.”
                When I heard about this incident from my folks back home, I thought, “that old preacher is still pretty sharp, don’tcha know.”  How often is God’s mercy and grace shown not in the grand and impressive, not in the biggest and most beautiful, not in the high and mighty; but in the small and lowly who simply do what they were meant to do.  Jesus knew that massive cedar trees didn’t grow in Israel.  Lebanon was envied for have such a rich supply of strong wood.
                And mustard bushes weren’t even allowed to grow inside the cities because they were like a weed growing in the barren desert.  Their wood was good for nothing, certainly not for building.  But they produced a staple spice which makes any bratwurst taste better, if you ask me.  And they provided shade and shelter for the birds of the air.  And, in this case, a hope for the future of the schroons.  And Jesus wanted every person, every single creature, to know that each is loved and important in the eyes of God.
                Judy cleaned off the deck and bought new potted plants to decorate the repaired deck railings.  Rupert and David sawed up the tree in the back yard for firewood for the campfire pit down by the lake.  And the Wisconsin Wildlife Preservation Society took care of the schroon egg and gave it proper incubation for a healthy hatching.  And now people in town laugh to themselves when they think of Pastor Martin attempting to cut down a tree.  But now they know that indeed he does have more skill at delivering a sermon than he has operating a chain saw. That’s because preaching is what he, in his own small way, was always meant to do because that’s his mustard seed of faith.
                 And that’s the Good News from Fox Hill, where faith really matters for every single man, woman, and child; oh, and the married ones too.  AMEN.