THE LAST RIVER MILE

Thoughts near the take-out.

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GEOFF POSEGATE

Retired United Methodist pastor and leadership coach.

  • BECAUSE I WAS INVITED

    Simple invitation can transcend a lot.

    I have a good friend who is an employee at a not-for-profit where my wife and I volunteer once a week. His church had a sunrise service planned for last Sunday, Easter Sunday, and he invited me to come. I thought, “If he cared enough to ask, I’m going to go.”

    It was kind of big deal. Even with five decades of professional church leadership experience, I’m still a card-carrying introvert. Steeling myself to go to a place where I will be a total stranger takes some effort. At least my friend would be a familiar face.

    The sunrise service took place in the parking lot of their church facility. It was a very small but very enthusiastic gathering. The pastor and his little flock welcomed me eagerly. Introverts know the difference between a greeting that is forced or formal and one that is genuine. This was the latter.

    It is safe to say that this congregation and my own congregation have vast theological differences. They have fundamentally different biblical interpretation principles than I do. Likely, most if not all the people there are of a significantly different political leaning than I am. None of that seemed to matter, though, at least not at that point . Waiting for the sun to make its Easter sunrise appearance in the east, it wasn’t about when and how a person should be baptized, whether or not women should have leadership in the church, what we should believe about human sexuality, or how we feel about the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington D.C. At least for a moment, we had a risen Jesus in common, and that was all that mattered.

    Ironically, the sun’s rising silhouetted our church building’s steeple in the distance. My friend’s pastor noted that and exclaimed, “Beautiful!” as he led us in praise of the risen, victorious Jesus. I watched my friend raise his arms and say, “Thank you for this morning!” It was a great start to a spectacular Resurrection Day.

    Some who know me might asked me, “Why did you go to sunrise service at that particular church?” The answer is simple. I went because somebody cared enough to invite me.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

  • EASTER IS NOT ABOUT A DOMESTICATED JESUS

    A good friend of mine is digging deeply into the letters of the New Testament of the Bible. He’s an adept contextual Bible student, and he noted that most of the “Epistles” were written around 40 to 90 A.D. The four Gospels mostly were compiled near the end of that time period. So my friend was wondering about those first decades of the Jesus-following movement, with basically nothing in writing. Followers with a Jewish background had their people’s scriptures, but those from a non-Jewish background were not familiar with those. How did the movement survive and thrive before any kind of written standardization?

    My friend observed that many followers of Jesus (including me) tend to idealize the first generation of Jesus-followers. In our minds, the early Church was a perfected set-up of pure commitment, singular purpose, and untainted zeal. In fact, as my friend pointed out, it was utter chaos. Internally, pockets of believers went off the rails regularly. (Do background study on the churches in Corinth and Ephesus, for example.) And the movement had to survive in the surrounding economic, social, and political turmoil of the era. Yet following Jesus spread like wildfire, against unsurmountable odds. How did that happen?

    It most certainly did not take place because of a Jesus who is as domesticated as we try to make him now. It did not take place because of a Jesus who was just a good teacher or some kind of a professional “nice guy.” That kind of fire would not be fueled by a Jesus who came only to punch my personal ticket to heaven. And most certainly this would not be driven by a Jesus who is nothing more than a “law and order mascot” for whoever happens to be in power.

    As another celebration of Easter approaches, we absolutely must not under-estimate the world-redefining power of the Cross and the Resurrection Day. In Jesus’ suffering and death, God is completely united with us and one with us in the very worst that human beings have ever and will ever suffer. The risen Jesus not only frees us every single manifestation of Sin and death, but shatters the very chains those things have forged. The Resurrection is the complete and forever defiance of every power and principality that breaks God’s heart and crushes the human spirit. It is the powerful reconciliation of all that is hopelessly divided, and the welcoming of those deemed unwelcomed by the world. The risen Jesus transforms people and all Creation into that which was God’s heart from Creation itself. In rising, Jesus claims ultimate and final Lordship over everyone and everything else that claims it in human history.

    The very first thing that had to be said to those who found Jesus’ tomb to be empty was, “Do not be afraid.” Jesus risen is both world-upending terrorizing and completely compelling, beckoning at the same time. It could not be anything else and have exploded in those early years when literally there was nothing else to propel it.

    This Easter morning may we be both blown-away terrified and inexplicably thrilled and drawn at the same time again.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

  • WHEN I START TALKING, PEOPLE CHECK THEIR WATCHES

    I’ve tried to ignore this for most of my adult life. But sometimes it’s just too obvious. If I’m in a group or a one-on-one conversation, frequently when I begin to speak I catch people glancing at their watches or looking quickly to a nearby clock. It’s like they might be thinking, “OMG, he’s talking again. How long is this going to take?!?”

    Often this happens with people I know well, such as a good friend I met with earlier this week. Once in a while, though, it occurs with people I don’t know well, if at all. I’m probably being hyper-sensitive about some of this, if not egotistical. (Because it is all about me, after all…JK!) But I can’t help but wonder if I’m sending some kind of a he-talks-too-much signal.

    The odd thing about all this is that I am an off-the-chart introvert. Words don’t come naturally or easy to me, and I’m very comfortable in silence. It’s always been weird (or evidence of a gracious God) that I was in the vocation I was in. Maybe that created an overly verbal monster in me. My Old Testament professor, Walter Brueggemann once said of me in an evaluation, “…tends to wordiness.” Then there’s the definition of preachers overall – people who take twenty-five minutes to something that could be said in five. And consider this very blog. I’m here because I can use more words than other social media outlets recommend or allow.

    Whatever the case, I’m evidence of a world in which we seem to assume that the loudest voices and the most words win in the end. A deluge of words are fired at us every second with fully automatic velocity. A lot of talking means little or no listening.

    Around the same day I noticed my good friend glancing at his watch I was convicted by a daily devotion in LECTIO 365 focusing on the discipline of silence. The Bible is filled with verses valuing silence. (If interested, some are Psalm 46:10, Psalm 62:1-5, I Kings 19:12, Habakkuk 2:20, Mark 6:31, Matthew 14:23.) One of my life verses is Psalm 46:10, which I frequently hear as, “Geoff, would you just shut up and be with me quietly for a while?”

    It’s not just about what silence does to benefit us. It’s about the benefit it brings to others, first and foremost. Francis of Assisi is said to have urged Jesus-followers to “Preach Christ. If necessary, use words.” I frequently note the faith leader Paul’s admonition to esteem others as better than ourselves. (Philippians 2:3-4.) Such esteeming must begin with listening; really, deeply listening. I can’t do that as long as I’m tending to wordiness.

    So maybe the whole glancing at watches thing is God’s way to get my attention and to hold me accountable. I hope so.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

    Suggested resource: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain.

  • THE “SAVE ACT” SAVES NOTHING

    The United States Congress currently is considering The Safeguard American Voter Eligibility (“S.A.V.E.”) Act. In summary, this proposed legislation creates processes and steps designed to assure that only United States citizens vote in elections. (For the record, it is already a legal mandate that only US citizens can vote.) Proponents claim that widespread undocumented voting requires this legal step. In fact, non-citizen voting is negligible nation-wide.

    If passed, the SAVE Act will require extended documentary proof of citizenship. This will involve various combinations of current passports, original birth certificates, naturalization paperwork, etc. This will create additional and in some cases impossible work for many citizens. For example, currently 52% of Americans do not have passports and 11% have no access to original birth certificates. Getting the needed paperwork to prove citizenship will be extensive and expensive for a good number of Americans.

    That being the case, for which citizens will this be most difficult? Obviously, the lower a person is on the income scale, the harder it will be. And who make up a high percentage of economically challenged citizens? People of color.

    And that brings us to the real motivation behind the SAVE Act. This proposed legislation stands in a long and unfortunate line of voter suppression efforts in our country, which has included such efforts as outright threat and intimidation, literacy requirements, shortening early voting and limiting write-in access (making it harder for the working poor), and efforts to gut the 1965 Voting Rights Act. For people in power, it’s too often the case that they last thing they want is for powerless people on the margins of society to have equal voting rights.

    I have noted before God’s favor toward those who are denied favor by the cultures in which they live. A wise pastor recently observed, “God is partial to the people the world overlooks.” So, do the math.

    To say that protection from non-citizen voting is needed and is worth voter suppression efforts is what my late father would have called the practice of the Big Lie. Saying it often enough, getting enough people to buy into it, and even to legislate it doesn’t make it any less of a lie.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

  • IF I THINK I SHOW HUMILITY, I PROBABLY DON’T

    “Humility stands alone among the virtues in that as soon as you think you have it, you probably don’t.” – John Dickson.

    Historian and faith leader John Dickson defines humility as follows: It is a choice to forgo status, deploy resources, or use influence to benefit others before self. Honestly, how often do we see that happen, purely, in the world in which we live now?

    Sure, we give lip service to humility as a core value. In fact, though, I believe we stand in a long historic line of disdain for humility. Our Euro-dominant culture in North America is rooted in the Greco-Roman world over two millennia ago. In that world, humility was anything but a virtue. People then saw humility as a weakness, or character flaw. The goal then was to seek honor and pride, and to avoid shame. Humility was associated with shame. Humility was something that happened to you, not something you sought.

    Little has changed. Think of our culture’s endless addiction to competition, constantly seeking to prove who is best. Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok, etc. provide a continual parade of those whose life, children, awards, achievements, trips, meals, whatever are the absolute best. Humility itself is used pridefully in the cyberworld art of the “humblebrag.” In the vocation of which I was a part, pastoring churches, humility is preached, while we measure each other by whose church has the most participants, whose church is growing the most, and whose church has the highest profile. Current leadership in our nation unabashedly models anything but humility. (Many think that the most genuinely humble president of the last half century was the worst chief executive, while they think the most prideful, egocentric president of that period was the best.)

    This makes following Jesus even more counter-cultural. There are at least eighty positive references to humility in the Bible. Centrally, there’s this one: “And being found in appearance as a men, he (Jesus) humbled himself by becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:8.) Jesus didn’t just accept ultimate humility; he sought it. And get ready for this…to exemplify and offer Jesus, we must, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of your to the interests of others.” (Philippians 2:3-4.) That, friends, is swimming against the flow.

    Awash in an anti-humility world as we are now, what would it look like to actually practice Jesus-centered humility?

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

  • THE DISTRACTION WAR

    As with everything else, the current military action in the Middle East has fostered the usual polar opposite responses.

    Some say the action is necessary to derail Iran’s nuclear weapon capability. This thwarts an obviously oppressive regime and cripples a base of terrorism. It gives hope and a chance to Iranian opposition to the Ayatollah’s rule. It is evidence of strong leadership in the White House, they insist.

    And some say it is a complete overreach of presidential power. It is placing the lives of Americans and regional allies at risk, and doing more to destabilize the area than to help it. It is just another incident in the long line of American efforts to force regime change in other countries. And it is more about the president’s ego than anything else, they insist.

    As always, truth is somewhere on the continuum between the extremes. Still, there are some things about this war that seem evident to me:

    1. Always follow the money. Political power-plays and armed conflicts often (if not usually) have financial power or resource control at their base. Simply put, if it’s a conflict in the MIddle East, it’s about control of fossil fuel resources. It can be bathed in the political rhetoric of all the nations involved, but ultimately it’s about making sure that those who gain obscene levels of wealth from our global addiction to oil resources continue to protect their wealth. And war is always quick and easy money for those who profit from fueling the war machinery.
    2. War is domestic distraction. Intended or not, the current conflict has taken the spotlight off of domestic unsettledness. We’ve forgotten about needed Department of Homeland Security investigation into I.C.E. killings in Minnesota. We’re no longer focused on the fact that the Department of Justice essentially is in contempt of Congress, refusing to release the entire Epstein file load as has been required of them. And we’re thinking even less about the Epstein victims than we did before.
    3. The innocent always suffer. Above all, this is the truest truth of all in warfare. The old maxim is that the rich declare wars; the poor suffer and die in them. The decision makers will stay comfortable and protected, watching military action on a digital screen as they would monitor a video game. The foot soldiers will do the bleeding and dying. The civilians will have their lives blown apart by missiles and drones. The unsuspecting schoolgirls won’t make it home from class. And all of the latter will swept away from the conscience of those in power under the category of “acceptable collateral damage.”

    Jesus-followers often refer to him as The Prince of Peace. In my view, invoking Jesus in any of this is a gross blasphemy. How do we think views all this, really? Followers of Jesus are at all points of the continuum noted above; I get that. I have no right to claim that my particular point is the right one. Regardless, every human being drawing breath is worth the live, death, resurrection, and promised return of the Son of the living God. To take any kind of joy in the death of of any of these or to dismiss that death as acceptable or irrelevant… well, that is a problem.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

    SUGGESTED RESOURCES:

    -“The War Prayer” by Mark Twain

    -“Wag the Dog” – 1997 film

    –“The Green Fields of France” – song by Eric Bogle, performed by The Dropkick Murphys, The Fureys & Davey Arthur, and others

  • THE STORIES WE TELL OURSELVES

    I power-walk five miles three times a week. Normally I do this in the morning. I’m at the age when I must be careful with my routes: picking sidewalks or paved paths when I can, staying off of narrow roads, and avoiding high vehicle-traffic times. When I walk a roadway that has no sidewalk, I follow the practice of walking as far to the left as possible, facing on-coming traffic, and illuminating myself if it’s still dark. (I almost always walk in daylight now.)

    Yesterday morning I was in my last mile on a wide roadway with no sidewalk. It doesn’t get much traffic on Friday mornings, but I did see an SUV coming toward me. Getting as far to the left as I could, it seemed like the car was hugging that side of the road pretty tightly, and moving fast. I’m a little stubborn when obeying pedestrian rules, so in a case like this I usually hold my ground until the last second. About twenty yards away from me the driver jerked the SUV to his left, as if he hadn’t seen me until just then. Passing me, his face was angry as he mouthed some sort of rage headed my way. He violently waved his hand to his right, indicating that I should have been farther to my left on the road or something. In response, I wheeled as his car went by, pointing at him, and waving my arm to indicate that he should have pulled to his left sooner, should have paid more attention to me, or whatever. (Just for the record, I did this without words or shouting, and without single-finger gestures. It is amazing, though, how much swearing one can do in silence.)

    In the nanosecond after I saw his reaction to me, I told myself a story. It’s actually a series of pre-packaged stories, ready to go in such a situation. It’s a story about how this guy is an old curmudgeon (as if I’m not), who hates all these walkers, runners, and bicyclists who are all into health and all that. He’s someone who is out to get all these “liberals” and people who aren’t supportive of President Trump. (How would he know that about me?!?) Or he’s just one of those arrogant persons who thinks he owns the road and the whole world revolves around him. (Like I’ve never been that person…)

    What a monumental, presumptuous, haughty thing to do. Where do I get the nerve to declare his story? Maybe he already was having a bad morning. Maybe he was having trouble seeing in the sun’s glare, and coming upon me suddenly really scared him. I’ve certainly reacted in anger sometimes when I’ve been scared. Maybe there’s some on-going pain or sadness in his life, and these incidents just make it worse. Or perhaps he was just late, and it was important for him to get to wherever he was going. Maybe it was an emergency. None of this is to excuse his actions or mine. The point is that I did not know his story, and I had no right to force on him a story I created.

    Someone once taught me this convicting truth: The next person each of us encounter will be brought closer to Jesus or pushed farther away from Jesus because of us. I did not do a good job yesterday morning.

    The stories we tell ourselves about people other than ourselves can get us in trouble. What would it be like if, instead of constantly creating these stories about others, we put the time and effort into finding out their stories from them?

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

  • FORMER PRINCE ANDREW AND FAILED JUSTICE

    Granted, I really don’t know everything about the complexities surrounding the Jeffrey Epstein trafficking process and the seemingly endless files concerning those associated with him. But the optics right now are really bad, especially for Congress, the Department of Justice, and the Attorney General. For whatever reasons, the United Kingdom was unafraid to arrest a former prince and member of the royal family, placing him solidly under suspicion. Our legal system thus far won’t come anywhere near doing the same with anyone on this side of the pond. (According to the Attorney General, prosecuting everyone named in the Epstein files would cause collapse of the “whole system.”)

    I try to imagine how all this looks to one of the many victims of the predatory actions of Epstein, Maxwell, and others involved. The names of many of the potential collaborators/perpetrators/predators/”clients”/etc. have been redacted. The names of victims have not been. Worse, images of underage women in the files have not received the protection that the identities of those in power over them have received. What does this say to a young woman who was used as an object by a man simply because he was wealthy enough, powerful enough, and connected enough to exercise that power over her? It says that she is an expendable commodity, It says that protecting a “whole system” is more important than protecting her.

    Followers of Jesus have to know that we are under a mandate to stand in the gap for the vulnerable and powerless. The Bible is replete with evidences of the command. (Psalm 82:3-4, Isaiah 1:17, Matthew 25:40, among the dozens of examples.) If we who claim the name of Jesus stand by silently as this unjust situation stands, or (worse) if we go through some kind of theological gymnastics to “justify” this travesty, then we join in culpability.

    If legal pursuit of Epstein file perpetrators will collapse a system, then, frankly, it is a system that needs to come crashing down.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

  • LENT – PRAISING GOD IN THE WORST TIMES

    Among people of faith, a commonly heard phrase is “praise God!” Normally I notice it spoken as a result of some favorable outcome, from finding a misplaced phone to hearing that biopsy results are benign. Saying “praise God” signifies gladness that God has done something beneficial for us or for others. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this. This is not really praise, though. It’s actually thanksgiving; thanking God for something that pleases us. In pure praise, the focus is not on us and that which benefits us. Praise is focused entirely on God.

    In praise, I rejoice in the nature and attributes of God. God is the Alpha and the Omega. (An ancient way of saying that God is unbounded by time and space.) God is truth. God is merciful and just. Above all, God is love. All of these things benefit me and all of us, but it’s not about my benefit. It’s purely about who and what God is.

    Obviously, it’s easy for me to praise God when all is going relatively well with me and/or the world around me. Conversely, praise is hard when life’s blessings seem limited or non-existent. I can allow the bleak and barren times to strangle praise.

    One of the most profound and powerful expressions of praise I know occurs in a story recorded in the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) portion of the Bible. It’s the story of a man name Job, who loses wealth, family, health and virtually all that’s precious to him. He cries out in pain and anger, demanding to know why God would do all this to him or allow it to happen? He debates friends who offer formula platitudes to explain it all. In the midst of his agony, though, Job is determined to cling to praise of God. In one of the boldest faith statements of the Bible, Job says, “Though he slay me, yet I will hope in him.” (Job 13:18 – New International Version.) Hear that…Job is saying that even if the worst happens to him, he will hope in the One who alone is worthy of praise. That bold and raw. And it is the naked core of praise.

    Many followers of Jesus, as of yesterday, are observing a season known as Lent. This is a period of 40 days (minus Sundays) leading up to the observance of the death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. It is in many ways a bleak and barren season, resulting in the crushing emptiness of the killing cross. It is a hard time in which to praise God. But as Jesus resolutely set his eyes on and his path toward the place of his death, he also says, “Though he slay me, yet I will hope in him.”

    The world will not take any special note of those who praise God when all is well. Anybody can do that. Nor will the world be impacted by those who join in the flow of anger and despair when times are bleak. That’s just normal for all of us who are human. Humanity will notice, though, those who are being slain in a multitude of ways, but who still defiantly, even joyfully put their hope in the God who still makes all things new, who will establish love, justice, and righteousness, and who will win in the end, regardless of what happens to them. And they praise God in the seemingly unending darkness.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

  • A CAN OF PUMP PRIME

    A lot of opinions and stringent points fly around every, and I know I contribute to the swarm. I thought I take a break from it all and just share an old, funny story. (This will be appreciated best by those who have a non-urban background.)

    In the early years of our marriage my wife and I joined with another couple in the purchase of a small cabin on a bluff overlooking the Current River in Missouri. (The same river on which I took my first canoe float as a twelve-year-old.) We did this against our better judgment, with idyllic dreams of what owning recreational property near the most noteworthy stream in the Missouri Ozarks would be like. As it turned out we spent more time maintaining the cabin than actually relaxing and enjoying it. But it was enjoyable for the three or four years we had it before we both moved away from southern Missouri and we had to sell it.

    One maintenance requirement was the pump that brought water to the structure. Both the husband in the other couple, a fellow young pastor and I grew up in a major metropolitan area. Neither of us had any experience with a water pump. As a complicating factor, the property upriver from us and the one just downriver from us had easement rights to the pump and the water it produced. So, if something went wrong with the pump, the legal burden was on us to get water going again for our neighbors.

    I remember the first time the pump went out and a good neighbor called us to let us know that something needed to be done about it. My friend/co-owner and I drove the distance to the cabin to try to address the situation. We slid the cover off the pump house and crawled down alongside the mechanism, realizing we didn’t have a clue what we were looking at. We stood staring with our hands on our hips for a while, as guys do. Refusing to admit ignorance, we messed with valves/moving parts/whatever for a bit, thankfully doing no permanent damage. We finally remembered a friendly, helpful older gentleman we had met, who lived down the hill from our cabin. So we went down to his house, where he graciously listened to our description of what was going on with the pump. He smiled and said, “Oh, I’m sure it just needs prime.” We looked at each other, thanked him, and walked back up the hill to our cabin on the bluff.

    Without much discussion but in a kind of silent agreement we got in one of our vehicles and drove a couple of miles into the closest town to a hardware store. We went up to the counter and told the two clerks there that we needed a can of pump prime.

    Nearly a half century later my guess is that those two hardware store guys have gone on to their rewards. But I’ll bet they still get a good laugh in heaven telling the story of the two city boys who actually asked to buy a can of pump prime. (If you don’t know why this is funny, I feel your pain. Run it by someone you know who has a rural background, but be sure you do it without an audience!)

    We all do dumb stuff, I guess. (I hope!) Maybe we should go easy on one another.

    I’ll see you around the next bend in the river.

    BTW, I thought the Super Bowl 2026 halftime show was GREAT! (Sorry…I can only stifle a strong opinion/stringent point so long!)