Pastor's Devotions by Tim Harris

As a tennis fan, I’ve been following closely the Australian Open which is coming to a close this weekend. The difficulty is, Australia is 16 hours ahead of our time here on the US East Coast. Thus, I’m constantly trying to calculate the times of the matches and/or what time it will be here when they are playing over there. After all, when their day is coming to a close, ours is just beginning. A match that begins in the early evening over there, ends up in the middle of the night over here. The end result is, I get to watch very few live matches.  And I’m constantly asking, “What time is it?”  Any of us who have traveled between time zones know we are constantly trying to figure out how our time in the place where we are relates to the time back home.  After all, you don’t want to try to call your wife or office when it is 3:00 a.m. their time. It reminds me of the old song by the group Chicago “Does anyone really know what time it is?” Of course, Einstein had his theory ...

During the winter, I love having a bird feeder set up and filled with bird seed to attract all the different kinds of birds that are around during our winter months—finches, sparrows, chickadees, juncos, woodpeckers, cardinals, etc. Thus I have a bird feeder in my backyard where I can see it while I’m drinking my coffee or having my breakfast in the morning. The only problem is, as one person told me when I first got my bird feeder, “Once you start feeding the birds, you’re under moral obligation to keep on feeding them.” That’s something that has kind of stuck with me. Thus, I’m constantly out making sure the bird feeder is well stocked.  To help with that, I recently replaced my bird feeder with one that is quite a bit larger. Rather than hold two scoops of bird seed (which is actually about 1 ½ cups per scoop), this newer and larger one holds over four scoops of bird seed. That means, less trips out to the bird feeder for stocking purposes. It also means, the birds get to eat mu...

I don’t  know if you saw it or not, but the week before Christmas, the Jersey Shore experienced what some have considered to be historic waves. With wave heights reaching 20-22 feet (and some said there were even a few that reached 25 feet), surfers came from as far as Cape Cod and Southern California to take advantage of waves that were for the Jersey Shore, rare if not historic. One surfer described having to bail out on a wave that became too vertical and dropping two stories into the water below. I’m amazed he survived!   As I watched the videos of the surfers and the waves, I was awestruck by the size of the waves, their power, and the fact that this was taking place right here in New Jersey. After all, as one surfer from New Jersey said, “This should be something that happens in Hawaii or Portugal…but it was happening in our backyard.”  Another person described the waves as “angry—very, very powerful.” (cbsnews.com, Dec. 21, 2023) For sure, they did seem quite ...

On New Year’s Eve, as the year was turning from 2023 to 2024, we had the television on so that we could watch the ball drop in Times Square. As it did, everyone there was cheering for the New Year. And one of the commentators (or someone with them) exclaimed, “This is going to be the best year ever!” My response was, how do they know that? How do they know what’s in store in 2024?  (To which my son responded, telling me not to be so grouchy and cynical!)  Without trying to be grouchy or cynical, however, the truth is, none of us knows what the next year will hold. We would all like to think that 2024 will be a year of great things, blessings, smooth sailing, etc. We would all love to have a year wherein all of our hopes and dreams come true. And for some that just may be the case. I hope it is for you. Yet for others, 2024 might not turn out to be all that they hoped and wished for—or even prayed for. For some, 2024 could turn out to be the year in which they lose their battle...

A week ago I returned from a five day trip to Leon, Nicaragua. It had been almost four years since I’d been there so it was great to reconnect with people I’ve loved and worked with for many years. Although I’ve been there every season of the year, this was my first time there in the month December. What struck me immediately was that Christmas was everywhere! Santa’s, Christmas trees, light displays, etc. were in every store, street, and park. Some of it had a bit of a Latin American flare to it, but one could tell that much of it had been imported from the US. Nonetheless, it was Christmas wherever you looked!   Well, that was in the city. One afternoon, however, I went out of the city to the poor community of Troilo where I would visit a young man I’ve known for about 12 years, Dary. In his community, there was close to nothing that was Christmas. No Christmas trees, lights, or Santa’s. When I arrived at his home, Dary who is now almost 18, almost totally blind, and has lit...

Last night began Chanukah. It is the Jewish holiday that commemorates how it was in 164 BC, at the liberation and rededication of the Temple, one night’s worth of oil kept the Temple menorah lighted for eight days—i.e., until new oil for the Temple could be made. Thus for eight days, Jews around the world light their Chanukah menorahs. Each night they light one more candle until all eight candles are lit on the final night. Last night Kim and I lit our menorah.   For those who don’t know, there is, one candle on the menorah that is lit every night. That is the shammash or helper candle. That candle is lit by a match or other kind of lighter and is then used to light the rest. The shammash candle stands higher than all of the others or a bit separated; it is always distinct from the rest of the candles. Again, it is lit every night, burning with whatever other candles have been lit.  For me as a follower of Jesus who is also Jewish (on my mother’s side!), I can’t help but ...

This past week I was given what I would hardly consider an early Christmas present. My doctor put me in an orthopedic boot for a stress fracture on my ankle. I’m not sure how it occurred, but for the past six weeks or so I’ve had pain in the ankle to the point of limping much of the time. An MRI showed a stress fracture that is actually on the verge of a full break. Thus, the boot.   Along with the boot comes a whole lot of instructions and limitations. Of course, I haven’t been able to run. Nor, can I cycle. And now I need to stay off the foot as much as possible. If I do have to walk, it’s a slow clunky walk; it feels like it takes me forever to get anywhere. (If you know me, that in and of itself is quite frustrating!) Of course, this is the last thing I want during the Christmas season when there is so much to do: services to lead, shopping to get done, and places to be. In fact, when I woke up this morning I began thinking about all the limitations this boot has now place...