The Haunted House: Conquering Life's Scary Places

Times being what they are, I hope this message, based on the Andy Griffith Show episode, The Haunted House, will speak a good word to you about facing and overcoming your fears.  

The Haunted House:

Conquering Life’s Scary Places

As this episode begins, Opie and his unnamed friend are on their way home from playing baseball, discussing whether anyone, even Mickey Mantle, could hit Whitey Ford’s “dipsy-doodle” pitch.  They decide that they can settle their disagreement with a little demonstration.  Opie’s friend will throw a dispy-doodle pitch like Whitey Ford and Opie will swing away at it like Mickey Mantle.  That should settle it, right? 

    Did you notice what Opie did as he settled himself in for a swing at the ball?  He did exactly what Mickey Mantle always did.  He took the bat and knocked the dirt off of his cleats, only Opie doesn’t really have any cleats. (He was wearing the same PF Flyers I wore as a child.) Kids learn so much of what they do, good or bad, by watching us. 

    One Sunday morning, when our son Josh was a very little boy, Linda was dressing him for church in his first little blue blazer.  She tried to button all of the buttons, but Josh protested. After going around and around about whether the bottom button should be buttoned, Linda, exasperated, finally asked Josh, “How do you know that you don’t button the bottom button?”  His answer was short and sweet, “I watched daddy.”  Children are watching to see how we deal with all kinds of challenges, including the one we see in this episode. 

    Mickey Mantle hits Whitey Ford’s dipsy-doodle right out of the park and right through a front-door window of the old Rimshaw place.  An important part of their young lives, a new baseball, has landed in a very scary place.  They can go after it and reclaim it or they can surrender their new baseball to their fears of this old, allegedly haunted, house.  Before they ever get to the front door, the first frightening sound scares them away from the house and their lost baseball. 

    You and I may not have hit a baseball through the window of a scary old house in a long time, but this story is all about us too.  Some part of your life and mine may have landed in a very scary place.  You may be afraid to face a problem in a relationship. You may be scared to speak up for what is right. You may be shaky about inviting people to worship with you or sharing your faith with people who need to know Christ.  You may be afraid to admit that you’re wrong and ask to be forgiven.  Whatever part of your life is lying inside the old Rimshaw place, you have the same decision that Opie and his friend faced.  You can face your fears and take it back or you can surrender it to what scares you.  When the Bible says, in Psalm 34:4,

 I sought the LORD, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.

    That experience is no small thing.  When God delivers us from our fears, He sets us free to take charge of our lives again and glorify Him in that victory. 

    Opie and his friend scurry off to find Andy and tell him what happened.  Andy, not knowing what’s really taking place in that old house, challenges them to think like big boys and not let the sound of the wind scare them.  He suggests that they stay away from the Rimshaw house and offers to retrieve the baseball for them. 

    Since Andy is waiting for a very important call from the capital, he decides to send “nothing to fear but fear itself” Barney Fife to rescue the baseball.  When Andy gives Barney this assignment, we see Barney do a very human thing that we all recognize in ourselves.  Barney thinks of every possible reason why he shouldn’t go into a scary place, at least not right now.  Apparently, the fear therapy he recommends for the boys, “getting back on the horse right away,” doesn’t seem quite right for him.  Aren’t we always better at solving other people’s problems than we are our own? 

    “Fearless” Barney Fife tricks Gomer Pyle into taking a little ride with him, a trip that ends up at the Rimshaw place.  Then, instead of going in to find the ball himself, Barney tries to pressure Gomer into doing it for him.  “I’ll check the timing on the engine.  I said it first!”  Some things you have to do for yourself.  Facing your fears is one of them.  Sending someone else into the scary places in your life won’t help you grow. 

     My senior year in high school, I was involved in an automobile accident.  The accident was my fault.  I got the ticket.  On the day I was to appear in traffic court, my dad offered to go with me.  As we walked into the courthouse he reminded me of the way things would unfold.  “I’ll be with you,” he said, “but you’ll have to face the judge yourself.”

     We need to face our fears.  We can’t send in a substitute.  But we have a Father who has made us a tremendous promise that can help us face our fears. 

 (Deuteronomy 31:6) Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

     Barney and Gomer get no further than the boys had gone in confronting the fears of the Rimshaw place.  When they hear a sound that doesn’t sound like a baseball, they run away and Barney returns to the courthouse in a panic.  Andy’s had enough.  After his call from the capital, he will lead the baseball rescue mission himself. 

     Andy, Barney, and Gomer enter the Rimshaw place, walking as closely together as any three human beings possibly could.  They find the baseball, but Andy is not satisfied.  He senses that something strange really is going on in the Rimshaw house, so he heads off to look around. 

     Andy is getting the idea that as long as fear keeps everyone away from this house, something very bad could be going on inside.  As we later learn, he’s right.  What he senses about the Rimshaw place is also true about your heart and mine.  If fear keeps us away from an area of our lives, a wounded relationship, a history of abuse, unfinished business, whatever it is, then we are surrendering part of our lives to very bad things. 

     While Andy’s gone, Barney and Gomer see and hear all kinds of frightening things.  When you live in fear, everything looks different, doesn’t it?  Like the painting of old man Rimshaw above the fireplace, fear just seems to follow you everywhere you go.  You can’t walk away from your fears because you carry them inside you. 

     Andy returns from his reconnaissance mission and sees and hears some frightening things himself.  He yells for them to get out and the three of them scatter.  Barney and Gomer get to the car and realize that Andy isn’t with them.  Gomer wonders if Barney hasn’t just become the new sheriff.  Barney knows that there is something he must do.  In that moment, the fearful bumbling Barney Fife decides that facing his fears, as tough a task as it is, is more than worth it for the sake of his friend.  So, with gun in trembling hand, he sneaks into the back of the house hoping to save Andy. 

     You and I must decide that facing our fears, as tough as it is, is worth it too, for ourselves and those we love.  Years ago I was John Crosby’s pastor.  He was a young man with Down’s syndrome who made one of the most beautiful professions of faith I have ever witnessed.  The day of his baptism came and John’s parents let me in on a little secret.  In thirty-three years, John had never put his head under water.  He was scared to death of drowning.  I talked to John about how safe baptism was.  His parents comforted and coached him all they could.  His moment in the service came and he stepped into the water.  While I said the things I say to the congregation before a baptism, John’s voice was heard too.  He stood in front of me, shaking his clenched fists while saying, quite nervously, “Oooh!  Oooh!”  But somehow John decided not to let his fear get in the way of following Jesus.  He went beneath the waters, ever so briefly, came up choking and spouting water like a statue in a fountain, but very proud that he had overcome his fear for the sake of Christ. 

     Andy and his posse ran some bad guys out of the Rimshaw place because they faced their fears.  How many bad things can we run out of our lives and the lives of those we love if we will welcome the strength that God is more than ready to give?  As the Bible says,

 (2 Timothy 1:7) For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.

     God doesn’t want any part of our lives to be lost to our fears.  He invites us, in His strength, to face our fears and come to life.

Taken from Messages from Mayberry: Spiritual Life Lessons from My Favorite Episodes of The Andy Griffith Show, by Dr. Ronald D. Vaughan.  Available at Amazon.com.

The Nicest Way to Declare a Sermon Too Long

 

Generally, I preach messages that last 20-25 minutes.  I seldom stray outside that timeframe.  Most of the worship services I lead dismiss on time.  But, one Sunday, I lost all track of time.  The outline I had prepared and printed in the bulletin had far too many points and I had a story to tell about each jot and tittle of that plethora of ideas.  I should have found a suitable stopping place and told the congregation we’d finish the message next Sunday.  But, I didn’t.  I persevered to the end.  Most of my poor congregation “suffered long and was kind.” 

When I returned to my office after the service, I faced my family’s post-game analysis (more like an autopsy) of my message.  My son said, in great desperation, “Couldn’t you find a place to stop?  And do you have to tell a story for every idea you teach?”  Linda was far more diplomatic.  In fact, in my book, she holds the world record for the kindest way to declare a sermon too long.  She said, “Dee, today’s message would make a good sermon series.”  A few years later, it actually did. Like the loaves and fishes, that one sermon, only slightly expanded, fed the congregation for five Sundays. 

Give the Benefit of the Doubt

When I began my year of service and study as a hospital chaplain resident, our Supervisor gathered us around a conference room table and spelled out his expectations for everyone on the chaplain staff.  One of his rules was that we promise to give each other the benefit of the doubt.  "Moments will come," he said, "when you’ll be tempted to question the actions or even the motives of one of your coworkers.  You’ll be stressed and sleep deprived.  You’ll run short on patience with your colleagues’ annoying ways.  But that is when you must remember your promise that your first thought will be that your fellow chaplain attempted to do the right thing for the right reason.  That gift will make us effective and keep us united."

Right now, I wish I could gather everyone in our nation around a very big conference room table and challenge each one of us to give the rest of us the benefit of the doubt.  We don’t do that, at least not nearly enough. 

We leap to judgment.  We hear a buzzword or two that leads us to identify another person as an enemy.  We thoughtlessly sort people into groups like sorting out the suits of a deck of cards.  You see a color and a shape and you know where you think that person belongs.  We play mind-reader and claim to know the motives behind a person’s actions. 

Imagine how different our national conversation would be if you and I gave every person we encounter the benefit of the doubt.  That doesn’t mean we agree with what they say or condone what they do, but we begin with an attitude that says, “I believe you’re trying to do the right thing for reasons that are important to you.”  What a gift that would be to our nation and what a big step forward toward national healing.  

Peace Comes to Hearts Where God’s Grace Finds a Home

Have you ever sung a song for a long time, only to learn that you had the lyrics wrong?  Writer Deborah Patterson asked people to send her Christmas songs they or their children had badly misunderstood.  Here are a few Christmas songs gone wrong from her collection. 

~       He’s making a list, of chicken and rice.

~       Dashing through the snow, on a one-horse soap and hay…

~       Round John Virgin, mother and child…

~       Later on, we’ll perspire, as we drink by the fire…

~       Get dressed, ye married gentlemen…

~       See the grazing mule before us, fa la la la la la la la la…

~       Olive, the other reindeer, used to laugh and call him names…

~       Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel …Barney’s the king of Israel…

Most of us have been repeating the song the angels sang to the shepherds since we were very young, but the truth is, most of us don’t have the message quite right.  And in getting this song wrong, we’ve missed the path to peace. 

Most of us quote the angel song in the words of the King James Version,

(Luke 2:14b) And on earth peace, good will toward men.

That’s a perfectly good translation, but it doesn’t clearly express the meaning of the Greek words it translates. 

The way it reads, we often take it to mean, “Let there be peace on earth and all of you good folks practice good will toward other people.”

That’s not a bad message.  I could vote for it, but it misses the life-changing power of the words the angels proclaimed that first Christmas night.  I believe the New International Version comes much closer to this verse's true meaning, 

(Luke 2:14b) And on earth peace to those on whom (God’s) favor rests. 

Peace comes to those who realize God is for them, God loves them, God sent Jesus to save them, and let that truth rest upon them, find a home in their hearts. 

A week ago, we celebrated my Andrew’s 26^th birthday, so he’s been on my mind lately.  I remember when he was only a day or two old, I went to the hospital nursery to bring him to Linda in her room.  You may know the pride you feel when you drive a new car through your neighborhood.  You want to take the long way home and wave at everyone as you drive by.  I felt that and much more as I pushed Andrew’s plexiglas bassinet down the hospital hallway.  I wanted everyone to see my baby boy.  The route from the nursery to Linda’s room passed through a stairwell, a great building design achievement.  Going through the doorway of the stairwell into Linda’s hallway, the bassinet bumped across a metal threshold.  This sudden bump startled little Andrew and he began to cry.  He was, after all, a little tiny nine-pound, twelve-ounce baby. I talked to him as we rolled down the hall, but he wasn’t listening.  He was afraid and letting the world know.  As we came through the doorway of Linda’s hospital room, I was greeted by that new mama look that said, in all caps, “Dee, what have you done to my baby?”  I didn’t answer that glare, because there was no acceptable answer.  But what happened next, I’ll never forget.  I reached down and placed my big old hand on Andrew’s little back and ever so gently rubbed it.  In an instant, he stopped crying and was at peace.  Linda and I looked at each other in amazement, as though I’d fed five thousand with one hospital tray or parted the cars outside to find a parking place.  The moment Andrew felt his father’s hand resting upon him, his distress turned to peace. 

That, I believe, is a picture of what must happen to us to find peace.  Life’s bumpy ride frightens us.  We feel helpless to do anything about it.  But then, if we open our hearts to God, His grace, His saving love, His favor rests upon us like a strong loving hand.  And when we feel the touch of grace and know we are His, our distress becomes peace. 

Peace comes when the seed of grace God has sown upon the world takes root and grows within your heart. 

When you believe what the angel said, that the good news is for you. 

When you realize that Jesus came into the world to be your Savior. 

May God's grace, brought to earth and to life through Jesus, find a home in your heart--and give you peace.

God Sends His Message of Hope in Unexpected Ways

Pastor and writer, Dr. Carlyle Marney was in his hospital room awaiting surgery.  He confessed he was uncharacteristically anxious about the entire experience.  A pastor friend had come to see him, talk to him and pray with him, but, he said, that was no help.  The hospital chaplain, also a friend, stopped by to talk to him but, again, Marney felt no peace as he prepared to go to surgery.  Then, the attendant showed up take Marney from his hospital room to the operating room.  He helped Marney slide from his hospital bed onto the gurney he used to transport patients.  This large African-American man sensed that his passenger was frightened.  As he pushed the gurney down the hallway, he grabbed Marney’s big toe, squeezed it tightly and said, “Preacher Marney, you in God’s hand and everything gonna be alright.”  Marney said that, in that moment, those simple words from an unlikely messenger brought peace to his heart and he knew he would be fine. 

The God who sent our Savior from an out-of-the-way small village like
Bethlehem is the same God who still sends messages of hope to you and me in unexpected ways.  Perhaps even more amazing is the fact that God can make you one of those surprising messengers of hope.  Just think; you might be in the position to squeeze the big toe of someone on a frightening journey and bring hope and peace to their hearts.  

Clothe the Little Ones in Your Colors

When this picture of Juliana was made, she was not quite three months old.  You might find it amazing that, at such a young age, she has already chosen the university she will support and for which she will wear team apparel.  The truth is, she hasn’t actually chosen a college yet.  Her parents decided that their love for Clemson is so clear and strong that they will actually dress their child in it.  One day, Juliana will choose a college for herself.  It may be Clemson.  It may be the one you’d pick for her.  But she is going to grow up knowing what team her parents love. 

I’ve heard some parents say, “I’m not going to involve my child in any particular religion. I want them to be free to choose when they’re old enough to understand.” When I hear that, I want to ask parents, “Do you know Jesus?  Do you love Jesus?  If you do, you will want to raise your child, from day one, knowing who you love and live for.  One day, each child will make a choice about following Jesus.  Some will choose to follow Him.  Others will not.  But if you believe Jesus is the Savior of the world, the one way to salvation, the Lord we can follow to an abundant life, then don’t you want your child to come to his or her choice knowing as much as they can about the Christ you love?  Shouldn’t they grow up clothed in your love for Christ?

No, our youngest children don’t understand everything about the Christian faith, but they are having their first and foundational experiences that profoundly shape the way they see life, themselves, other people, and God.  So, we bring the little children to Jesus. We clothe them in our colors to prepare them to make the best choice about Him.  

A Tough Question God Asked Me

I want to tell you about a tough question God has asked me.  I could take you to the very place where I first sensed it.  We wouldn’t have to go very far.  I was sitting at the desk in the pastor’s study of this church.  I hadn’t been here very long.  I’d unpacked all my boxes of books and sermons and files.  I’d hung my pictures on the walls, put my guitars in the closet and my Andy Griffith Show DVDs on the shelf.  I was here.  But as I sat at my desk that day, staring into a computer screen and struggling to focus my heart on the work I’d come here to do, I realized that part of me was far away, about a hundred miles away, to be precise.  As much as I’d wanted to leave them behind, I’d brought with me some deep wounds, nightmarish memories of the most hurtful experience I’d known in more than thirty years of ministry.  I’d talked to friends, colleagues, and mentors in an effort to unpack some of my thoughts and feelings and, hopefully, begin a healing process.  Those steps were good, but still I felt stuck.  Too many thoughts and feelings focused on apologies I was owed, people who needed to be held accountable, and second-guessing every word I said and choice I’d made during that ordeal.  It was like a bad song you hear on the radio and can’t get out of your head.  As I sat there, with one foot in the present and the other stuck in the miry clay of the past, God posed a question to me.  This one didn’t come through a lecture or a friend’s testimony.  I was alone with God when He asked,

What do you want to do with the rest of your life?

I’m not the world’s greatest goal-setter or plan-maker, so my first answer was an honest, “I don’t know.” God, the Wonderful Counselor, pointed me toward a place where I could begin to build an answer.  

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life doing this; trying to fix the past, waiting for others to repent of their ways, beating your head against an emotional brick wall, or do you want something better?” 

“I really do want something better,” I answered.

“What pieces of that better life can you see?” 

“I want you serve You here with my whole heart.

I want to do the best preaching I’ve ever done.

I want to enjoy my family, my children, my grandchildren.

I’ve never written a book.  I think I have something to say.

I’ve never been on a foreign mission trip.  I can do that here.”

That day, that question, those first steps toward an answer, were a turning point in my life.  

I don’t take your hurts lightly.  I understand your desire to make bad times make sense, to somehow feel a great wrong has been made right, to finally feel closure of an opened wound. 

I’m not God, but God is here.  And I believe, with all my heart, that He wants your life to be about today’s joys and tomorrow’s dreams much more than yesterday’s hurts.  And, as He sees you stuck in the past with time slipping away like water through your fingers, He may be here to ask you what He asked me, to turn your heart away from a past stained by others’ sins toward a future waiting to be created by His love.  Hurting friend, “What do you want to do with the rest of your life?”