pastorrudytlc

Who gets shortness of breath by leading a hymn sing at church? But after singing the third verse of my favorite hymn, “Wonderful Grace of Jesus,” I knew that something wasn’t right inside of my body. I felt like I had just climbed the Philadelphia Art Museum stairs! And it wasn’t until later last Saturday night that a little after 10 p.m. when I was on my way to Cape Regional Medical Center, that I was actually both sobered and scared by the throbbing pain that I was feeling in the right side of my chest and the fact that my right arm was going numb with the sensation of pins and needles. I began wondering aloud to God, “What is going on Lord?”

I spent the entire night in the Emergency Room. By early morning I was admitted. Now I will be the first to tell you that I don’t really take good care of myself physically. I don’t exercise regularly. I eat at all the wrong times. I avoid having to go to the doctors and when I finally do- I embarrassingly have to confess that I rarely do what I am prescribed to do- and it caught up to me and I was rendered guilty and I am in no way proud of my careless behavior! I have a long history of high blood pressure and lousy cholesterol levels and migraine headaches and in recent years have battled anxiety, anemia and depression. And now I was sitting in a hospital bed wondering if I was heading down the same road as my own Dad who had a heart attack and triple bypass surgery when he was in his 50’s.

By Sunday afternoon I was in ICU. By Tuesday afternoon I had been transferred to Atlantic City Mainland for a heart catheterization “procedure” that evening. Although I know that many of my readers have been through something like this, I still don’t wish that experience on any other human being. I felt humbled and helpless and even a bit terrified. I also felt the presence of God and the support of loved ones and family and friends and the over the top care of some of the best medical professionals that I have ever had the privilege to run into. This was true of both Cape Regional and the Atlantic Care line up. I have always had great admiration and deep respect for those in the medical field but I am ready to kiss the very ground they all walk upon. Thrust into very difficult situations and having to deal with so many constant and life-challenging circumstances- all I can say is I was in the best of hands the entire time. By 9 p.m. Tuesday evening, I was informed by the wonderful doctor attending to me that my heart was in good shape and by the wee small hours of the morning of early Wednesday- I was back in my own bed feeling like I had been given a great gift and more days to live to live to the fullest.

What can I say everybody? These last few days have been a whirlwind adventure to say the least. If I learned anything- it is that I must take my health more seriously than I do. We human beings are not always good stewards of the precious presents that we have been so graciously given. I need to listen to my Doctors and start obeying their orders and not being so careless about my high blood pressure issues. I promised my last nurse Deborah, who was so wonderfully passionate about what she does and sincerely not wanting me to ever experience a stroke, that I would be responsible with my attitude towards my well-being.

I also really discovered that while I do look forward to going to Heaven someday- I do want to live and be here on earth for many more years to come. I want to grow old by my wife’s side- and see my kids and grandchildren grow- and walk my daughters down the aisle-and continue to pastor my awesome church family- and be on the radio and coach baseball and unwrap each and every day as the truly awesome gift that it is! Can anybody know why we take so many wonderful pieces of life for granted? Why do we get so caught up in the mundane that we miss the real miracles that God has strategically inserted smack dab all around us? Wake up Rudy and know that life is happening right before your very eyes- today!

I also got confirmed to me that my favorite thing in life is being around people. I got really lonely sitting there in the hospital by myself. I don’t like to be alone and I began to treasure every visit by every individual who took the time to pop in and be with me. I was only there a few days. I can’t imagine the many people who have to sit hours every day never having anyone come alongside of them. I was also blessed by the many kind words and prayers from my friends on facebook. People may make fun of the social network but it gave me the company that I was thirsting for when I couldn’t be with anybody in person.

And I am eternally grateful to God for the nurses that He gave me along this journey. I was humbled by the wonderful- beyond the call of duty efforts that those who got stuck with a nervous, never shut up, talker like me bestowed upon me anyway in spite of my jumpiness. All star care givers like Gina and Kayla and Judy and Apple and Dawn. I love you all and I mean that. And I am so ecstatic how God placed Christy in a strategic place just when I needed a personal touch and good friend. “Christy, I want to thank you so much for taking such good care of me when I was actually terrified by that cardiac catheterization. If ever I wanted to cry like a baby it was when I was on that table Tuesday night- but big boys don’t cry- yeah right!”

So last night the Doctor told me something that I already knew in the spiritual sense but now it was being confirmed by the physical evidence. His professional medical opinion was that I do have a strong heart! Love has a way of doing those things, doesn’t it? Love is the strength behind it all and I thank God that it was He who put this love in my heart! Where would I be without the Lord? Thank God I will never have to answer that question. So I write this offering of Speaking In The Light with a grateful heart and a fresh anticipation of the day that is before me- days that we must not ever waste nor ignorantly just exist our way through. These are the moments and now is the time to live and I would love if you would join me in the celebration.

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.  I think every individual who has ever wanted to learn and grow in any area- whether it be athletics or music or art or education- has had to understand that a certain kind of death needs to occur to one’s own will in order to excel to a level of excellence.  The seed won’t sprout if it is not buried into the ground.  But to dive into the earth and to be covered completely with soil with the hope that it is all for the good of one day producing a fruitful harvest takes faith and commitment.  And while some things die hard- if you truly desire new life- they still need to die!

Nobody really likes to hear about this.  We want the short cut to instant success and to be on the fast track to a painless production.  We want the championship trophy without having to sweat it out on the playing field.  We don’t want to hear things like “if I want to live, I have to learn to die.”  There is a huge part of each and every one of us that is just too proud and too self-centered and greedy and self-preoccupied and self-absorbed to just deny ourselves without a fight.  We want to win without having to lose a thing- but without applying the lessons extracted from the pain- there genuinely will be no real gain.

Great pianists don’t grow on trees.  You don’t hit a curveball just because you show up with a bat in your hand.  Marathon runners didn’t start jogging the day of their big race.  Paintings that hang in the museums were not created in the rush of a single art class.  You don’t ski black diamonds your first time out on the slopes.  And you will never be wise unless you choose to make the most from your foolishness!  If you want to be great, you need to be willing to fail a few hundred times on your way to the winner’s circle.  You need to be open to laying aside your own comfort so that you can become competent at what you have set your heart towards.  Your time is no longer your own- but it becomes the property of the coach, teacher or mentor that you are willing to submit to because you trust that they have your best interest at heart even if it doesn’t feel right in your body!  You no longer eat what you want when you want it just because you are hungry.  You begin to sacrifice your appetite and move to consume what is right so that your body may be ready to become what it has to be in order to do what you long for it to accomplish.  If we really want to get it right, we need to get radical about not just knowing what we need to do- but doing it!

But here is the good news:  “We are saying NO for the sake of a much greater YES!”  We may die in some hurtful ways, but we do so in order that we may come alive in much more hopeful wide open spaces!  It is never for nothing that you give away what you love best with the goal of receiving something so much better!  You can’t get something wild and wonderful by investing nothing.  If you want a harvest in autumn, you must be willing to sweat a lot in the spring! 

This is where I think we can learn lots from Jesus.  We fix our eyes upon the Lord who did die.  He went to the cross- but we are told that for him- he was willing to endure the shame because he was convinced of a greater joy.  Jesus went to his death and they placed his body in the ground and they said, “What a waste!  He was so young.  He had such promise and potential.  He could have done so much more good.”  But do you know where they buried Jesus?  It is not accidental that we are informed about this in the gospel of John.  At the place where Jesus was buried, there was a garden!  And in the garden, there was a never used tomb that they placed the body of Jesus in.  That was the biggest mistake the Romans ever made.  They buried God in a garden!  They did not know what the most brilliant man who ever lived understood.  If you want something to stay dead, don’t bury it in a garden!  You can’t keep a good God down!  God knows lots about gardens.  When he created man in the first place, He placed man in paradise and paradise was a garden!  When a seed of hope is planted and sacrificed, in the dark- in the grave- in the tomb- in the ground- something wonderful happens!  Something stirs- and a root takes place and the seed is nurtured and with proper care- a surprise pops up for all of us to see and enjoy! 

And on the third day, the stone was rolled away and the grave was empty and the angel came down and the women were astonished and the doubtful disciples became devoted world changers!  And up from the grave Jesus arose- and what was first thought of as a tragedy turned out to be God’s greatest triumph!  And when you lose- you win and when you are last- you are first and when you are poor- you are rich and when you are down- you are ready to be lifted up and when you die- you are ready to become a prime candidate for new life!  It may not be easy- but it is eternal.  It may not come without pain- but it can be birthed into passion.  It may not be the fastest track- but it is the most scenic journey!  What’s it going to be?  Are you going to hold on to your seed selfishly or are you going to dive in devotedly and go for something higher than what earth suggests and allow yourself to be conformed into all that heaven will allow.  Gardens take lots of work- but gardens are a whole lot prettier and much more life giving than cement parks!  What do you want to be?    

My wife went to pieces last Monday morning in a split second of a moment.  Terri, who is one of the administrative assistants at the Lighthouse Church, had just been chatting with me in my office.  And in what couldn’t have been much more than a twinkling of an eye later, I found her collapsed out by the church’s front door, wailing loudly with tears pouring out from her eyes!  She had just been informed via a cell phone call that her Dad had been killed earlier that morning when the pickup truck he was driving crashed into a parked trailer in a fenced lot behind the business.

Harold C. Smith of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, only 68 years of age, had lost control of the delivery truck for unknown reasons in the rear parking lot of the tire service that he had been working at since he retired from Yellow Freight trucking back in 2004.  He was pronounced dead on the scene by a deputy county coroner.  The company-owned pickup was wedged underneath the trailer, which is used to store tires.  The pictures provided in the paper and the local television web sites were terribly difficult to look at!  After seeing them, I could only wonder what could have been going through Dad’s mind in those tragic moments.  Maybe everything happened so fast, he probably never got to process anything at all!  All we know that in a mere matter of minutes- he was gone.  And Terri never got to say, “Goodbye Dad- I love you!”     

A tire customer was sitting inside the business waiting for his truck that was being serviced in the garage. “I saw the aftermath.  At first I heard this bang, but it was nothing to indicate it was like a car crash. It just sounded like something in the distance fell,” he said. “I went around back to see my truck and the employees were talking about something that had just happened back there.”  Little did they know that what happened would forever now change the lives of my Terri and her four younger sisters, countless grandkids and great grand kids and Terri’s dear Mom who is now left behind to try to sort through the wreckage without the man that had taken care of her and things for years to come to the rescue!  And all of this occurred on a normal Monday morning.  But is any day ever normal on a planet where at any given moment new lives are being born while other lives are departing as death catches up with the fragileness of humanity?  Is there ever a time on earth when cries of joy are not mixed with tears of heartache as we experience the daily doings of any given day?

Dad Smith was a gem of a man in a world of Cracker Jack jewelry.  He was the real deal.  He wasn’t the flashy movie star hero type- but he was the guy that we all knew was so necessary to keep it all together!  He married my mother-in-law when she already had four young daughters having been abandoned by her first husband.  He became the only father my wife would ever know and Terri adored her Dad.  He would give you the very blood from his own body to help out any of his family members in times of trouble.  He was loyal.  He was faithful.  He was hard working.  He loved his sports and his favorite color was Phillies red!  When this Jersey boy came into his life, stealing away his daughter- the only one who doesn’t  still live in the neighborhood and here I was rooting for the Mets and the dreaded Fighting Irish Of Notre Dame over his beloved Penn State- well he never once threw me out of his house and I always felt welcomed and loved!  I have never, ever had even an ounce of bad feeling towards this man in over the 30 plus years that I have known him and that’s saying something if you truly know the emotionally wired time bomb that I am.  I admired him greatly and respected him even more.  He was a quiet man over all but always very friendly and would talk to anyone at anytime just about anything.  He should have been the mayor of Lebanon, Pa for all the people that he knew and those who knew him.  And if he knew you liked something, he kept you stocked with it for the rest of your days.  Why it was just last Thanksgiving that he went searching high and low for rhubarb pie for me!  Dad’s visits from Pennsylvania always meant tons of Lebanon Bologna, shoe fly pies and my favorite candy Reece’s Pieces.  He introduced me to French fries and gravy years ago when I was just dating Terri and because of his love for breakfast and diners; to this day we always have breakfast in a diner on Christmas Eve. 

Dad Smith supported Terri’s decision to go to Philadelphia College of Bible when not everybody was crazy about her choice.  If she hadn’t gone there- she would have never met me!  And while Dad wasn’t very boisterous about his faith with his mouth- he lived it loud and clear by his actions in ways that I know pleased the Lord.  And having lost my own Dad to cancer in 2000, I absolutely hate now having to think about the rest of this journey without him being there!  His just being there was more comforting than anybody probably will ever know or appreciate and I have no idea why it takes somebody not being there to wake us up to the true treasures of this life. 

I want to say what I need to say today so I don’t get to tomorrow with regret for keeping my mouth shut!  Terri told me that she was going to go her Dad all weekend but for one reason or another didn’t get around to it.  I saw the horror on her face last Monday when it hit her that she was never going to get the chance to talk to her father again.  I wish I could have given her a window of opportunity to speak her words of love to her father’s heart.  I wish I could have given her five more minutes to make that call.  I couldn’t and I hurt deeply and intensely for her.  And if I can give you a practical word of challenge today it is to make that call- write that note- take that visit and let what’s going without saying finally be said while it can because it can!  The real value of any given day is the relationships that we have been blessed with!  Nurture them thoughtfully and handle them with the utmost of care.  You just never know if tomorrow will bring your last today.

I want to say “Thank You Dad Smith,” for rescuing and raising my wife Terri.  Thank you for your unconditional love and steady presence in her life.  Thank you for being a great father-in-law to me and a wonderful grandfather to my kids and I am sad that they will now have to cherish their memories and miss you the rest of their days.  I am sad that my new grandson Jude won’t get to know either one of his great-grandfathers- but through me- I hope he will see them and their influence clearly!  See you later Dad Smith!    

If Harold Camping of Family Radio is right, there will be no need for this article for come next Wednesday when the weekly Herald comes out- there will be none of us here to read it!  Spring might finally have arrived in Cape May County — but apparently according to some misguided few, the apocalypse will be soon to follow.  And all the commotion about such nonsense makes Pastor Rudy just sick to his stomach!  One of the reasons for my internal nausea is that it just gives more fodder for those who already make fun of God and it does nothing to deter them from continuing to not take Him or His people seriously.  And if there is one thing that I have learned along my journey it is that while Christians have done many a foolish thing that deserve all the ridicule that it receives- God on the other hand is no laughing matter and it saddens me that many will turn their nose up at the One they should be bowing a reverent knee towards.  This stupidity will serve as a further obstacle to get people to understand the truth and not too quickly dismiss it as nonsense! 

Have you seen the waste of money that has been poured into this careless campaign?  This country has been bombarded with the literature, the pamphlets, the subway ads, and the billboards that broadcast on the side of the highways that “Judgment Day is coming.”  And while there is no doubt in my mind that Scripture clearly teaches that a day of reckoning is in the future of mankind- what makes this latest propaganda wreak more of manure than a message that needs to be heeded and attended to is that a date has been set for May 21, 2011.  That’s the day when 89-year-old radio host Harold Camping declares that God’s true believers will be lifted into heaven and saved during a biblical event widely referred to as the Rapture.

The problem I have with all of this horrible hoopla is why is any intelligent person paying any attention to this proven false teacher?  This is not the first time that this so called biblical expert has led many a gullible person astray.  In the early ’90s, Camping published a book entitled “1994?” which claimed that judgment day would arrive in September of that year right around Labor Day weekend. It didn’t!  When he was confronted with such a staggering anticlimax — the world, after all kept on spinning — Camping chose not to be discouraged, but to learn from his mistakes.  But if ever Camping could have learned a lesson, it should have been in the area of humility.  Always a pompous and stubborn man, Harold Camping has been vocally critical of local churches and pastors through the years and even recently announced a few years ago that God had abandoned the church and would now only speak through Camping’s radio ministry.  Why any so-called believer wouldn’t run for the nearest exit after that absurd remark is beyond me!  But this civil engineer by trade has some kind of strange hold over people.  Appearing to be very intellectual and parading as a serious student of the Scriptures, Camping went back to the drawing board and continued to crunch the numbers based upon his own strange version of numerology.  His calculations have led him to believe that May 21, 2011 is the beginning of the end and he has since spread this wacky word through his broadcasting network, Family Radio, and has quickly built up a frenzied fervid following that will once again come up empty!

According to one Camping disciple, Brian Haubert, who was interviewed for a recent article published by National Public Radio, he says that, “On May 21 starting in the Pacific Rim at around the 6 p.m. local time hour, in each time zone, there will be a great earthquake, such as has never been in the history of the earth.  The true Christian believers will be taken up and away by the Lord as they will fly to heaven.”  And what is in store for the rest of creation?  “It’s just the horror of horror stories,” Haubert says, “and on top of all that, there will be no more salvation at that point.”  And then he says that “the Bible says it will be 153 days later that the entire universe and planet Earth will be destroyed forever.”

What happens when the world doesn’t end on May 21^st?  Many will have a good laugh and make fun and move on.  As for me, I do believe that Jesus will come back some day.  When He ascended into heaven, He did make it very clear to His followers that someday He would return.  But He also said these words that too many have allowed to go into one ear and right out the other.  Jesus said this about the last days, “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”  (Matthew 24:36)  What part of nobody knows does nobody understand?  1Thessalonians 5:2 also teaches us “for you know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.”  What thief calls to tell you the day and the hour and the time he will be visiting your house?  The key teaching here is that we should live like everyday could be the end of the world as we know it but because we live by faith- it would all be fine!  It will all be fair.  It will all be just like He said it would. 

So maybe we need to get back to the Bible and make sure that the ones we are allowing to teach us the Scriptures are really using God’s words and not their own to make the points.  And I would challenge anybody who doesn’t understand what the Bible actually says about the days to come to check out the last book of its contents.  It is called Revelation and it actually tells us how this movie is going to wrap up and it does so, so that we would choose to live not in fear but learn to dwell by faith!  Be careful to not too quickly dismiss its words because of the words of some misguided crackpots!  We are vulnerable to the counterfeits when we don’t know what the real deal looks like!  But God did not leave in the dark- so we would not get fooled by false light!  I’ll see you Wednesday and my faith will still be in tact because I have my signal dialed to WGOD and when He tells me that it is the end- then I’ll believe it- but not until He says so!               

Celebrated author Richard Paul Evans writes, “There are two kinds of people in this world.  There are those who climb mountains and then there are those who are content to sit in the shadows of the mountains only to critique the climbers.”  And while that statement is so very true, I genuinely feel bad for those who will never hear the music of the mountaintops because they have allowed some bozo who probably doesn’t even own a pair of hiking boots to talk them out of even trying!  Are you becoming so sensible that you are actually ignoring the very senses that call you to experience something that could very well be sensational?     

 It astounds me how many people make fun of faith but have never even ventured to explore it to its fullest.  I have a very strong word of caution for crowds like that!  Don’t be dismissing something that you choose to stay in the dark about.  You can’t be intelligent if you deliberately choose to stay ignorant.  Everything that Jesus did, he always chose to do it right smack dab in the broad daylight.  But the critics of his day only saw him as nothing more than Joseph and Mary’s son, the carpenter from Nazareth.  They could not and would not even consider his claims because they were tied down by their own biased prejudice.  Isn’t it funny that ones that Jesus touched the most were the ones that most of society wasn’t that crazy about touching it at all?  The lepers and the beggars and the cheaters and the prostitutes were willing to follow the yearnings of their souls to get a glimpse of life from a whole new level of looking!  The people who traversed up Mount Faith knew Jesus to be so much more than the so-called religious leaders of the day knew.  The critics said about Jesus, “We don’t like what we see.”  The sinners said to the critics, “Don’t you wish you did?  Don’t you wish you could?”  It is nonsense to not have the good sense to see if Jesus makes sense to you for yourself!

 My Dad would have been 79 years old on April 29^th of this year.  He died 11 years ago.  His father, John Sheptock died 50 years ago when I was a baby of a little over a year old.  My Grandfather was a coal miner from West Virginia who migrated to Shamokin, Pennsylvania and eventually to Clifton, New Jersey where he spent the latter part of his life working for the Erie Lackawanna Railroad.  I never really knew the man although my senses were always stirred when I would hear stories told about him.  And for most of my siblings, the stories were enough- but not for me.  I wanted to know him more.  But how could I be close to a man that had been gone for so long?

I had the good sense to make sense of who John Sheptock really was!  I began asking those who had spent time with him like my Uncle Johnny and my cousin Herb to tell me everything they could about him.  I began to hunger for more and more information!  They shared that Grandpa was a strong hard working family man who while not overly emotional- communicated clearly through his actions the genuine love that he had for his family.  They also told me the bad news that he was a devoted Yankees fan which didn’t exactly endear me to the man- but not every Sheptock could be perfect in every way!  My Dad was a big Brooklyn Dodgers fan who could never give his allegiance to the dreaded Yanks when the Dodgers left for Los Angeles.  He waited around until 1962 when the Amazing Mets were born!  My Grandfather was already gone by ‘62 before he would get a chance to truly see the light!  Anyway, even those thoughts made me laugh and only imagine the discussions we could have had about baseball and such.

As for John Sheptock’s profession, a couple of years ago when my son Rudy and I were visiting out in Western Pennsylvania- we came upon an old coal mine that featured guided tours.  Needless to say, we were the only ones who showed up for the experience that day and with the help of a retired miner named Joe, we got the one on one attention that many students could only dream of!  He gave us more information than any one brain could hope to contain about coalmining!  He had us in the pit of the mine, in very close and much too tight for me quarters and in the pitch dark and it made me wonder how Grandpa could do this every day for so many hours faithfully for his family!  2 Rudy’s and a Joe and it was fascinating and it made me understand the man that up until then, I really never did know!  And I left that roadside attraction feeling unusually close to my Grandpa!  And the reason was so simple.  It was because I was willing to go to where he worked and be where he had spent so much of his life and to see what he saw and feel what he felt.  I got to process life through his viewfinder.  And I began to love John Sheptock anew.  A man I hardly knew- I now was coming to know, because I now was willing to grow in my knowledge of him!

Have you ever used the place called “Podunk,” in a phrase that you were using?  Did you know that Podunk literally means, “The place where the foot sets in?”  I went to Podunk to allow my feet and my heart and my soul to set in to get acquainted with a man that was an essential part of me- I just didn’t know how much.  How far are you willing to go to get to know Jesus?  Are you willing to listen to the tales of others who have come to know him so well?  Are you open to going to the places that he would have walked and actually do some of the things that he would do?  If you are- chances are real good that your impressions of him might just “set in” deeper than they presently are!  But it is up to you!  I dare you to move!  I dare you to be aggressive in your adventure and passionate in your pursuit.  It will make all the difference in you just knowing about the man- and you actually knowing the one that said he was the way and the truth and the life!       

Last Wednesday night I noticed that Patty Scarcelli, a precious young Mom who helps teach our Kids Klub weekly at the Lighthouse Church, was walking in with her two wonderful boys and an over abundance of plastic Easter eggs- preparing for the annual hunt that was soon to begin.  As I saw her get ready, I couldn’t help but think of one of my favorite stories that had to do with those very plastic eggs and being a preacher at heart- I couldn’t keep it to myself!  I took the initiative and asked her if she would mind if I shared it with her before the evening began.  Patty listened graciously and loved it and in turn shared it with the children in her class at the conclusion of their activity.  With it being Holy Week, I now will dust it off to one more time share it with all of you!

This tale, which doesn’t belong to a rabbit named Peter, illustrates beautifully what Easter is all about.  I pray that it would be more than just entertaining and heart warming for you the reader.  I pray that it would be just the ticket to help you grab a front row seat for a fresh reminder of what this week is supposed to be all about for the Christian.  It just might help you turn your eyes upon Jesus so that you would grab a renewed glimpse of His beautiful face.  And perhaps as the old hymn implies, that after making eye contact with the risen Savior, the things of this earth- that so often seem so important- would grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and His grace!

 The story takes place in the classroom of a Christian school.   A young, vibrant and caring teacher whom I will call Miss Thompson loves the class of 26 energetic youngsters that are under her care.  She doesn’t just endure her job.  She sees it as a privilege to impart both unconditional love and knowledge into her innocent and eager flock of precious children. 

 Miss Thompson was given the extra blessing of having one very challenging student in her class.  I’ll call him Billy.  Billy was a little slower than the rest of the kids and because of a congenital condition that he was born with probably wouldn’t be on this earth for very long.  His parents’ desire was still that Billy be able to experience as much of a “normal” life as possible- even if it meant requiring a little bit more special attention.  As trying as that extra attention could be at times, just the sight of Billy’s big smile and his perseverance at always attempting to fit in never failed to melt the heart of Miss Thompson. 

 At the Easter Season that year, Miss Thompson wanted to teach her students the truth that on Resurrection Sunday we remember the awesome fact that Jesus rose from the dead so that those who believe in Him could experience the new life that He has to offer.  Buying some plastic eggs, the hopeful teacher handed them out to her enthusiastic students with the assignment that each was to find something that represented “new life” to put in the egg.  Miss Thompson gave a bright purple egg to Billy hoping that somehow he would understand the concept and be able to do the task with the other children. 

 The following day came and everyone wanted to share what was inside their eggs.  One student had placed a little flower inside, and another proudly showed off a butterfly to signify that when a caterpillar disappeared in a cocoon, it was so that this wonderful change could take place.  Each student bubbled over as they showed off their “new life” symbols. 

 Finally, it was Billy’s turn.  Not knowing what to expect, Miss Thompson asked Billy to hand her his egg.  Nervously, Miss Thompson opened the egg and disappointedly found nothing inside.  In order to not embarrass Billy, she was about to quickly move on to the next pupil when all of a sudden Billy beamed out with the words, “Tomb empty Miss Thompson!  The Tomb was empty!” 

 Billy had understood that the greatest symbol of new life was the fact that it was an empty tomb we celebrate every year!  We no longer have to make a pilgrimage to a cemetery!  The greatest evidence that Jesus is very much alive and well is the reality that there was NO BODY there when Mary and Peter and John went to check out that grave some 2000 years ago!  And as the story goes, Billy would graduate to heaven just a few weeks later and on top of that little casket of his at his funeral were 25 empty plastic eggs as a sign that his classmates knew that Billy was now in the Hands of the Author of New Life! 

 It is my hope that this Easter you will find your way to the Cross of Christ where the penalty of your sin was paid for.  It took His death to pave the way to give you new life!  But don’t get stuck there because by acknowledging and receiving the grace that was given for you, when for you He died, you will be able to celebrate fully the Empty Tomb of Christ!  It is there where you will be able to say with confidence that for me He now lives and because He lives- so too will I!!!  My heart is now filled because His tomb was then empty!!!  And that Charlie Brown is what Easter is all about!  I wish for you a hopeful and happy Resurrection Day that is not just about candy in your basket but Jesus in your heart!

Visit the Lighthouse Church this Easter and celebrate the truth that the tomb is empty by joining us at 1248 Route 9 South in Cape May Court House.  We will have our Good Friday Service at 7PM and our Easter Celebration Services on Saturday Night at 6PM, Sunday Sunrise at 7 AM and Sunday Morning at 9 and 10:45 AM.  There will be a Continental Breakfast after all the Sunday Services and a good time will be had by all who come with an open heart!!!  Call 465-6690 for more information and I hope to see you this weekend!

Friday April 15, 2011 marks the anniversary of the day that Jackie Roosevelt Robinson broke into the big leagues with the Brooklyn Dodgers back in 1947.  When the 27-year-old ballplayer showed up for work that day at that grand iconic ballpark called Ebbets Field, Jackie didn’t just walk through an ordinary clubhouse door, but he blew a huge hole finally breaking a color barrier that had been in place for as long as the National and American Leagues had been in existence.  And while today, it is hard to find anyone who doesn’t have a strong admiration for what Robinson accomplished that year- back then it surely wasn’t the case.  Jackie was one man up trying to break down a rigid system of stereotypical and prejudiced biases that unfortunately still exist today.  To think that one tribe, color or creed is better than another is ludicrous and foolish- but not everything we learn along the way is true and good and any form of bigotry passed on down definitely falls into that category!

What should have made the front and back pages of the New York dailies that April day hardly even made a dent in the sports section.  It was still an unwritten feeling among the majority that integration would ruin the game and so there were still many who would hope that maybe this grand experiment might fail and it would all just go away.  But not just any athlete was chosen.  Not just any man was called for this monumental task.  Jack Roosevelt Robinson was an incredible individual.  In many ways he was a modern day David called upon to slew a Goliath of gigantic proportions!  It is not just anybody who can exhibit incredible strength by not fighting back and by not reacting to the horrible indecencies done to him even when he would have been so fully justified to do so!  Jackie Robinson would personally pay for this act of bravery dearly with his health and eventually with his life.  Having to carry the weight of an entire race and forced to become a human pressure cooker in the process with no genuine outlet to vent off the steam was probably asking too much of any human being.  But flanked by his heroic wife, Rachel, who never really let on how sad she was for her husband, the two of them survived what probably would have done in any color of man- never mind a sole black man trying to make his mark in what sadly was only a white man’s game up until this point!

Unfortunately it would take most of the first year for even his own Brooklyn teammates to back Jackie up and stand with him rather than against him.  It frustrates me even now to think that men who would claim to be Christians wouldn’t have acted more Christ like along the way.  Even the few who tried to stand by Jackie were taunted by their own family and friends.  Standing along the first-base line as part of Opening Day ceremonies that April 15th, Ralph Branca, a 21-year-old rookie pitcher purposely placed himself next to Robinson. When Branca got home that night, his brother said to him, “Are you crazy? Supposing a guy was a lousy shot and missed by three feet?”  Branca, who would go on to be a 21-game winner that year, grew up in Mt. Vernon playing with kids of all backgrounds. “I didn’t think anything of it.”  A few days before, the Dodgers had played their top farm club, the Montreal Royals. Robinson was still a Royal, not having been called up yet. He stood in against Branca, and hit a comebacker. When they intersected by the first-base line, Robinson said, “Thanks, Ralph.”  Only later did it occur to Branca that Robinson was expressing his appreciation that Branca hadn’t joined the anti-Robinson clique headed by Southerners Dixie Walker, Hugh Casey and Kirby Higbe – who tried to strong-arm Dodger General Manager Branch Rickey into getting rid of Robinson. All three players would eventually become Pittsburgh Pirates before the year was over.  Rickey had sent a strong message that those not for Robinson would be wearing a different uniform other than Dodger blue before it was all said and done.

It has been 64 years since Jackie Robinson’s history changing feat.  How far have we really come since then?  How about you?  Do you still judge a man by his color or his creed?  Are you willing to get to know a heart and not be blindsided by a label?  I wish I could wave a magic wand of love and do away with racial tension and prejudice.  I know life is still not fair- far from it!  But I do know that it will always be right to stand up for those that are being treated unfairly and to stand beside those who are fighting causes worth fighting for!  People never think clearly in crowds and it is much too easy for the majority to force their hatred and venom on others strong arming them into doing things and behaving in ways that they know clearly are not right.  One only needs to think of Jesus standing before the crowd that day as the unruly mob cried, “Crucify him,” with no just cause to back up their ignorant taunts!  I would only wish that we might make a little wiser choice today than the crazy one made back then!

So here’s to you Jackie Robinson, baseball loves you more than you could know!  Here is to you #42!  Here is to the courage and the integrity you showed and the battle you enlisted to not only compete- but actually complete.  May your story be told at every sandlot and may your memory be celebrated at every diamond for because of you-something good did happen!

“Life is not a spectator sport…  If you’re going to spend your whole life in the grandstand just watching what goes on, in my opinion you’re wasting your life.”  Jackie Robinson

written for the Cape May County Herald- April 6, 2011 Edition…

Yesterday my son Nicholas should have and would have turned 16 years old.  He’d be in high school now.  He’s be getting excited about learning how to drive.  He’d be playing baseball at Middle.  He’d be making the girls around him swoon!  He would probably be singing Barry Manilow songs at the top of his lungs in the car with his father! 

 Nicholas Paul was born in Omaha, Nebraska on April 5, 1995 but he also died the very same day.   Terri and I had anticipated a brand new life entering our world- joining our family- and within what still seems like a rushing chaotic whirlwind- before we even had a chance to say, “Hello,” we were already saying, “Goodbye!” And 16 years later, my heart still aches to know Nicholas and play ball with him and talk with him and be with him.  I miss him more now than I ever have and in spite of all the well wishes that I got all those years ago, I can honestly tell you that no, time has not healed squat!  I will be incomplete the rest of my days on this planet- because Nicholas is not here- and nothing and nobody will ever replace him! 

 Here is what I wrote in my journal on April 5, 1995- the day Nicholas both entered and departed from this earth:

“A time I will always treasure- a big dimple- a big nose- dark hair and without a doubt a true Sheptock.  Nicholas, when you get to Heaven, will you tell Jesus to please protect your Daddy because he is really not too strong right now and Mommy and I are going to need God’s help to accept the fact that we have to somehow journey on without you…  You are so cute son, and yet so fragile…  Nicholas, I wanted you longer than I had you…  I have no idea why we will not be able to raise you!  I treasure the truth with all that is within me that I will see you again but somehow I will walk the rest of my days here with a huge hole in my heart…  I love you son- now and always…”

 I share this with all of you today to remind you that if you know anyone who has ever lost a child, the worst thing that you could ever do is act like that son or daughter never existed.  In the nervousness of not knowing exactly the right words to say, too many people stay quiet about what still needs to be acknowledged- and that is that the life of someone who was immensely special to the one that you call special- is still gone!  The longing stays even as the years get longer since the tragic day first came!   There is a deep sorrow that rolls around on every birthday and anniversary and is kicked into full gear by anything that is a reminder of the loss of a human being that will forever be a part of the heart- even as the hearts are apart!  Words are not necessarily necessary- but a hug or tears shed together can be a much needed comfort- when the season comes round again!  And the power of just knowing that someone else remembered, by sharing a card or bringing a flower can make the memories sweet- even in the midst of a bitter hour.

 I still celebrate Nicholas’ Birthday.  Call me crazy, but I want my boy to know that I still miss him.  I want God to know that Heaven means so much more to me now than it ever did- because I actually have more kids there than I do here!  I will press on and navigate my way through every day by the grace of God and the pure appreciation of what a gift each new 24 hours of life is- but I won’t have to be called twice when it is my time to graduate!  Even in my dreams, I anticipate the time I will finally be able to hold Nicholas close and kiss him and shower all the love that an earthly father can bestow upon his offspring!

Let me close with some more words from my April journal those 16 years ago.  If nothing else to let my readers know that I follow God not because life is perfect, but because it is so broken!  I don’t need a genie; I need a Redeemer, a Savior and a Rescuer!  Jesus is all those things and more to me!

“On a quiet April morn, this little baby child was born- And he came into our lives for a short stay… Tons of questions fill my mind and no answers I can find-And pain fills my heart as I pray… Life is such a complex game and I will never be the same-For in a whirlwind this baby touched my heart…  And even though I miss him so- deep down inside I’m sure I know- With everything I do- he’ll be a part- and apart!  Jesus- please take good care of him and will you teach him how to catch? Will you write down all the things that make him laugh? I want to thank you for the moments that I got to hold him close-For we spent a lifetime- in a few hours and a half…”

 Happy Birthday Nicholas Paul!  Your name literally means “Little Victory,” and I know that the day that I finally cross the finish line- there will be no greater prize that waits for me! 

As I was thinking about composing this week’s article, I caught myself fixated on the thought, “How many of us are really comfortable in the skin that we are in???”  I have been seeing those Dove Soap Commercials over and over again on television during the NCAA College Basketball Tournament featuring prominent men like Georgetown Coach John Thompson III and former big time athletes like Magic Johnson and Bobby Hurley.  

 Bobby Hurley, the former St. Anthony High School star who led Duke to two NCAA championships, is featured in one of the advertising spots.  While we are treated to a montage of photos of Hurley growing up, he talks about not being the most talented or fastest player. But then he confidently expresses how he still got the job done!  The tag line of all the Dove commercials has been how all of these men have learned the secret of being “comfortable in my own skin.” 

 “I am comfortable in my own skin.”  This phrase stings me even as I hear it.  It almost teases and taunts me as I view these guys in the spotlight boasting about something that I know I truly can’t join them in!  I can honestly say that I am NOT now nor have I ever been content or very confident in the skin that I was created in!  I have struggled and battled a very low self-image my entire life because of the very tent that God chose for my contents to be prominently displayed in.  Now don’t get me wrong, I am not mad at God nor am I bitter.  I am eternally grateful that the Lord loves me no matter what, no matter where, no matter when.  But still when I read verses in the Bible that tell me that I was fearfully and wonderfully made- accepting them as personal truth comes very hard for me to grasp!  Dare I even say that I believe that my body has held me back from truly becoming the man that I know deep down inside I have always wanted to be!  I have felt that my spirit has been cruelly trapped by the clear limitations of my physical being.  Does anybody else understand what I am even talking about?  How about you?

 This madness plagues me way beyond March each year.  I struggle with this ordeal through every season of every year.  I wish that it was just one thing that could be easily corrected, because God knows that if I could, I would!  If it would result in my world being turned around so I would never have to battle this oppression and suppression again, I would invest the minute to win it immediately!  But there are some days that it takes every ounce of faith and trust that I am able to muster to gather enough gumption just to be able to leave the house and go out into the world and function at the level that I demand, never mind trying to live up to all of the outward expectations put upon us by others!  It is almost like my body betrays me and fights against me and I hate it passionately.  Why can’t we be friends?  Why can’t I get it all together?  I wonder what it is like to just be able to wake up and get up and get going without having to fight so hard just to live!  And before you know it, I catch myself on the road of comparing myself with others which I know only leads to further depression and defeat!  So somewhere in this entire menagerie of mess that I find myself always battling with- I know I must look for my answer!  I refuse to lose and surrender to it!  I won’t just give up!  So I look up and continue to navigate my way “stuck” in the skin that I’m in!

 My answer to my lifelong dilemma is that there is no easy answer.  Maybe for too long I have been looking and waiting for something that probably is not going to come to me here this side of heaven.  I am honestly thankful to God for the “contents” of my life!  I know joy!    I have been blessed beyond measure and I really don’t need another “thing” to make me complete.  It is the “container” that frustrates the daylights out of me.  I will never be OK with the skin that I’m in!  And I don’t expect anybody who has cancer or struggles through daily disabilities to sing the praises of their outer impairments.  But who we are must not be measured by the standards of what we see on the outside!  Who we really are is the treasured soul that lives on- no matter what shape, size or color the package that we have been wrapped in may come in!  I am still Rudy Sheptock no matter how much I despise the skin that I’m in!  I will always yearn the rest of my days for the prison walls to fall and the bars to break away and the key to finally set me free.  I was not designed to be contained and that is all this fragile parcel that I see in my reflection in the mirror does!  And soon and very soon I am going to fly and nothing will ever ground me again.  But the “not yet” is “not now!”  So no matter what soap I may use and Lord knows that I use tons of it, I am not comfortable in the skin that I am in and I don’t have to pretend or lie about it or just say it so that it makes a nice commercial!  It is the very discomfort that keeps me fully alive and earnestly yearning for the grace of God that I know is sufficient until those wide open spaces become my true home once and for all!

“Oh, Job, don’t you see how God’s wooing you
   from the jaws of danger?
How he’s drawing you into wide-open places—
   inviting you to feast at a table laden with blessings?”                              JOB 36:16 THE MESSAGE