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Sermon
of October 17, 2010
Presented by Dye Hooper on Laity Sunday
“Going Straight”
When you looked at this morning’s bulletin and read the title of this message, many thoughts could have come to mind as to what going straight would mean. In a language of words, whether it is English or any other language, there are many words that have a definitive meaning but have many connotations. Straight is such a word, a word that we have used all of our lives, or have had used on us. Such expressions as, go straight to bed, or go straight to school, or go straight to somewhere, straight as an arrow, a straight line and many others… We could also think of it as the path that we take.
Most of this morning’s message is about my own life and the struggle within me and my relationship with God. God has always been part of me, but during my life, there were some difficult times, especially when things were not “straight” within me.
Before I was, my grandparents had a large summer home in Ocean City, NJ, and when I was about 10 years old, I started spending many summers there. The house had four stories; each was a complete home into itself. The top floor was always rented to a minister and his wife from NYC. As with many young people, at that time, when I was introduced to him I was told to call him, Uncle Norman.
The neighbor’s home was owned by friends of my grandparents and they had a daughter, Grace, a few years older than me. I was allowed to go to the beach with Grace holding my hand to cross the street and always heard the same instructions, go “straight” to the beach and come “straight” home. This, at a young age, was always very confusing to me, as we had to take several turns to go straight to the beach.
When we would leave the beach, we started going to see Uncle Norman, on the fourth floor, five flights of stairs, where he would have cookies and juice for us and told us bible stories. Grace and I would sit and listen and over the next few years, I became very interested and had serious thoughts of becoming a minister. I was raised in the Methodist church and Grace was Catholic.
The stories were always the same, year after year. I heard the story of “Jonah and the Whale,” “Noah’s Ark” and someone who slew the giant so many times, that I had every word committed to memory. I told everyone that I was going to become a minister someday, but that day never happened.
When I was in high school, I had a traumatic change in my life’s direction and I made a complete turn against the church and my trust in ministers and my own family. Grace, who I had become very close to, was away at college and Uncle Norman was in NYC. I needed to talk to someone and I found myself very much alone. I was so distraught that I nearly flunked out of high school during my junior year. I did, however, manage to graduate and went to the Indiana Institute of Technology, for a degree in mechanical engineering. This was far from my thoughts of being a minister and far enough from home and all the things that had been troubling me.
I had my pilot license and I joined a flying club at college. While working at the airport (which was really just hanging around) I obtained my commercial license, and started working for Champion Aircraft, delivering new airplanes, from their factory in Milwaukee to many airports and farmers in Indiana, Ohio and Michigan.
These were small two seater planes, the type used for pilot training and short joy flights. I looked at this as a fun job, building up my flying time and best of all; I was being paid to do it!
On one of my trips to Fort Wayne, Indiana, I left Milwaukee at seven-thirty, on a winter night, long after dark. It was a clear night there and I had checked with flight service and was given a green light an assigned altitude of 3500 feet. I had made this trip many times before and had no thoughts or reservations about the flight. I had a “straight line,” the shortest distance between two points, drawn on my chart, north of the Chicago flight area. The course would take me across the southern end of Lake Michigan and into southern Michigan and on into northern Indiana. The trip, I had estimated, to be 130 minutes and I had 190 minutes of fuel, more than enough.
Shortly after take-off, now over the lake, I found myself heading “straight” into a snow squall, not all that uncommon for that time of year. (A snow squall is very fine misty snow, which often does not reach the ground, but even in the day light it can make visibility very difficult.) However, it being at night, it came on very fast and I was completely without any “sight reference.” The plane I was in, had a very limited instrument panel and no radio, that was up to the owner or dealer to install as an after market option. I carried a small AM radio with which I could receive some navigation signals in Morse code but, by the time you could figure where you were, you were no longer there.
Snow squalls were often very small, cloud like, and I was not bothered at first. I kept the plane at a steady heading, a “straight line,” at a level altitude, below incoming flights for Chicago and started to fly by my watch. After twenty minutes and still in the snow, I started talking out loud to God. This was the first time in over three years and it had happened without my thinking about it. Was I scared? I wasn’t sure. My flight instructor had always told me, to never be afraid while flying a plane or you will not make the right decisions. Keeping this in my mind and not wanting to turn back and put myself in the Chicago air traffic pattern, I chose to continue on. I kept the heading I was on and hoped to shortly fly out of the snow. My dialog with God got to be interesting and I am sure, I made many promises that I never could have kept.
After close to an hour of nail biting and dumping a great deal of body fluid, I broke out of the snow and found myself directly over South Bend, Indiana, looking down at The University of Notre Dame. There had to be a message there, I thought. Is this where God led me? I was way off my course. The wind had blown me south of the “straight line” I had drawn on the chart.
The sky was now clear again and I knew exactly where I was. Between South Bend and Ft. Wayne were, and still are, the main rail road tracks between Philadelphia and Chicago and not a bend in the tracks. They were straight as an arrow. We would often refer to them as the iron compass and follow the tracks.
However, now there was another concern. Did I have enough fuel to continue on to Fort Wayne? I thought I had, but adding that to my concern was the beginning of another dialog with God. I needed to make some quick decisions. I was way south of my original course and the wind was a much stronger factor that I had to consider for the rest of the trip. Another concern was, the runway lights in Fort Wayne were scheduled to be turned off at 11:00 and I was expected at 10:00. My conversation with God, kept me occupied and with pure determination and some conservation of fuel, we - God and I - finished the trip at 10:20. I had just15 minutes of fuel left when I landed. I then allowed myself time to be scared and I thanked God for the ride as my co-pilot.
Over the next several years God and I continued to have many more conversations and every time I flew, I asked God to join me as my co-pilot. God did not take up any room in the plane and no weight was added!
Flying was a great part of my life then and I met my future wife, Jane, for the first time at Brainard Field one night on a flight I made from Philadelphia to Hartford. For the most part, my talks with God remained private, for I was not ready to let go of my scarred feelings and share my thoughts with anyone.
Fifteen years ago, I flew into Minneapolis for a business conference and my body clock had me up and ready to go at 6:00 AM local time. I went to the lobby restaurant for breakfast and after getting my tray, I turned to look for a place to sit. There was only one person there, a non-descript man with a baseball cap on. I thought I would introduce myself, thinking that it was someone else attending the conference. When I sat down I was surprised to be looking at Dr. Billy Graham. His ministry is headquartered in Minneapolis; and I did not know that. He was alone and said that he was glad to have the company and asked me to join him.
Billy, as he told me to call him, and I started a conversation, that lasted for several hours. We talked about “my” Uncle Norman and Grace and my thoughts of being a minister and how and why I became so torn from the church. He knew “Uncle Norman,” Norman Vincent Peale, a very well known minister and author of “The Power of Positive Thinking.” Grace was also, very well known, and as my granddaughter, Aurora, told me, I never stood a chance, as she married a prince and was known as Princess Grace of Monaco.
We talked about “going straight” and what that meant to me – focusing on life and how I had become, so removed from the church, but not my trust in God. I told him about my flight from Milwaukee and my talking to God, for the first time in several years. He listened intently and told me, how God listens to everybody’s prayers, with or without promises. He did not think that God had ever intended us to live our life in straight lines; but to do as Jesus did, wander, take the “overland route,” broaden our life, to include options and see another side of life and people as we grow and age. Walk with God and be ever humble for God’s guidance and where God will lead us. The power of God’s direction on our thought process is the God within us and the way God leads us to much greater horizons.
God did not lead me to South Bend, but gave me the confidence to draw on my own ability and experience, to stay calm and continue my journey into the snowy night, knowing that I would eventually fly out of the blindness.
There is nothing quieter than flying alone, especially at night, listening only to the hum of the engine and the quietness of the wind. It is, for the most part, a very relaxing and rewarding time of solitude. My concern of running out of fuel, was overcome, by my thoughts and knowing that I had figured my fuel consumption correctly, knowing that I had enough fuel to make it to Fort Wayne.
Straight can be, and most of the time is, a curved line, with a few wrinkles here and there. The longer the distance we travel or the time we live, the more the line becomes curved. Use the word straight, as you think appropriate and always remember that it’s how you see it that makes it a straight line. Do not allow your life to become boring by always living in straight lines. Life can be too short as it is.
The Good News today is (I always like this part, it meant we were almost finished) that I am very comfortable with God and my church. I know that my prayers have been answered, many times over, in many different ways. For this I am rewarded and after nearly 65 years from when I thought I wanted to be a minister, here I am, standing before you ministering my story to you, as a message from God!
My life today is full of reasons to share my talks with God. We learn that the power of prayer works for us all, in many different ways. We do not always get the answers we want when we want them, but allowing time, we will receive an answer and guidance in some way or another. God’s guidance is always within us and all of our decisions are based on our ability to reflect on what we think God would want us to do.
It’s our faith to travel, on life’s path as we see it, wandering a bit, taking an “overland route” once in a while. Noticing what is around us, broadening our outlook and seeing the beauty of God’s world, loving and enjoying every moment of it. Our life’s path is short, do not waste it!
Amen.