Change

Years ago I saw a cartoon that still makes me laugh.  Because of copyright I can't print it here, but let me describe it for you.  The scene is a psychiatrist's office.  The patient is a distraught dog who is lying back on the psychiatrist's couch and appears to be filled with anxiety.  As the doctor looks on with professional concern, the dog simply says: "They moved my bowl."

I don't know why, but ever since I first saw it, that cartoon has stuck in my head.  It's become a family tradition, really.  Whenever I start going on and on about some little thing that's upsetting me, my wife will turn to me and very matter-of-factly say, "So, they moved your bowl, huh?"  Which is her not-so-subtle way of saying, "Let it go, dear... it's not that big of deal." 

It's funny how little changes can have such a gut reaction, sometimes.  We like to think we're more well-adjusted than our pets, but then your favorite TV show moves to a different night, or the menu changes at your favorite restaurant, or your husband decides that the cheese grater should go in a different drawer (sorry, dear) and all of sudden you become Skippy the dog who can't believe that someone has done something to mess up his nice, comfortable, predictable world. 

It seems to be doubly true, at times, when that change happens in the Church.  We think, "How can the Church change?  God doesn't change!"  That's true... God doesn't change... but the Church does.  It always has... from the Early Church to the Reformation to today.  The Church is a living, growing organism that's constantly adapting and changing in order to bring the love of a never-changing God to an ever-changing world.

So, really, I guess what I'm trying to say is.... our worship times will be changing in June.  I hope you're o.k. with that.... we haven't moved your bowl very far.  Everything is o.k.  Be at peace.  God loves you.

Pastor Russ