Scriptures:
2 Samuel 7: 1-16
Luke 1: 39-56
Today’s Old Testament scripture is a good prelude to our focus on Mary because it is a prophetic account of God’s desire for a dwelling place in the world. David looks with guilt upon his palace when he remembers that the Ark of the Covenant, which was thought to be the unique dwelling place of God, still resides in a tent. The prophet Nathan assures David that he should not presume to build God a permanent dwelling place because this God prefers the mobility of a tent. He tells David that it is not we who build God a house, but God who chooses a house within us. It is in people, not things, that God wishes to live. In the Christmas story, we learn that God chooses a young peasant woman to live in in a very unique way. The Gospels tell us that like the tabernacle, the Holy Family is constantly on the move while Mary is pregnant and after Jesus is born. If we were totally unfamiliar with Christianity or the story of the nativity, we would still be aware of Mary’s presence and perhaps her role in bringing about the great incarnation of God. All we have to do is go to the US Post office and ask for a Christmas stamp to know that this woman is the “lead role” in the Christmas story. If there were a Nativity movie that earned an Oscar nomination, Mary would definitely qualify for the “Best Actress” whereas most of the other characters would probably only qualify for the “Best Actor in a Supporting Role.” Today’s Gospel lesson would undoubtedly be the soliloquy that would earn her the coveted “little gold man.” The song she sings is one of the most beloved pieces of scripture in the Bible. Mary, glowing with the news of her pregnancy, rushes to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Elizabeth doesn’t squash her excitement with a raised eyebrow or suspicious questions about the origins of the baby, instead she exclaims with joy and prophetic zeal. “Blessed are you among women, and the fruit of your womb! What makes me so special that the mother of my Lord would come to visit me?” She tells Mary that she is also with child, and the two babies they are carrying are connected in a very special way, because the two are going to change the world together. Then Mary erupts into a song the church calls by its first Latin word—Magnificat anima mea Dominum. My soul “magnifies” the Lord. The Magnificat is a song of great awe and wonder and intimacy with God. If anyone is qualified to sing it, it is definitely the woman who is carrying the very incarnation of God in her womb. The song is radical, it is bold, and some would say it is foolish.The foolish song of Mary celebrated a God who doesn’t really seem to stand up to the test of “reality.” Perhaps Mary just has her head “buried in the sand,” but it does not seem that God ever “brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” Israel had a long history of being dominated and subjacated by whatever Empire happened to be controlling the trade routes of the time. At the time Mary was singing her song of praise, Israel had been dominated by the Romans for 63 years. For a very short period proceeding that, Israel was ruled by a family of Jewish warlords who sold the priesthood to the highest bidder and weren’t exactly “lowly.” The Greeks, Babylonians, Assyrians, Persians, Egyptians all had a chance to rule over Israel. Did Mary simply make bad grades in her History and Social Studies classes at school? What about the idea that God “fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich empty away?” When has this ever happened? There may have been times when the hungry have been filled with good things, but I don’t know when the rich have ever been sent empty away, except perhaps in the Marxist revolutions! Is Mary a Marxist? We all know that system of government just doesn’t work! Perhaps it is because I was a child who desperately wanted to be an archaeologist and would dig in my back yard and out in the field by my house with all my tools, but upon reading this passage of scripture this past week, I literally pictured Mary’s soul as a magnifying glass. I mean, she does say that her soul “magnifies” the Lord! But perhaps Mary’s song, Mary’s faith and joy and glowing pregnancy is indeed a magnification of how things really are. You see, with a magnifying glass, you can see quite a bit of detail that is imperceptible to the unaided eye. If I look at the bulletin with the magnifying glass, I can see the places the printer put more or less ink on each letter. To return to the foolishness of Mary’s song, her proclamation that the “Lord has looked with favor on the lowliness of His servant, and that the Lord has blessed her” on the surface would seem to ring hollow in her ears as she watched her son 30 years later go off on a rambunctious mission that she herself would try to talk him out of, and that in return Jesus would seemingly disown her in favor of his ragtag band of fishermen, tax-collectors, and prostitutes. But through her magnifying glass, Mary perhaps can see that no matter how much a mother would cling to her son, and that no matter how horrific the sight of him hanging on a cross for the very things she tried to talk him out of, his life was lived for her and for the world in a way that no else could have. So how does all this reconcile? We wouldn’t be here today if we just shrugged our shoulders at these inconsistencies between the proclamations of her song and the facts. What is the key to Mary’s foolish faith? IF we hold up the magnifying glass of our faith, how does her song ring true? Perhaps our magnifying glass could see a small detail that might uncover the meaning of her foolishness. Her song sounds a little less ignorant when we consider something called Kairos.You see, Kairos is a Greek word for a type of time. Kronos is an aspect of time that we can measure. Kronos is the clock that this world operates on. Kairos on the other hand, is an aspect of time that moves at a different pace. It is not measureable. It is a quality of time that some theologians say is apprehended in the mind of God. It is the quality of time that is spent rocking a baby, or holding a dying person’s hand while they exhale their last breath. Whether you know it or not, Time is a central aspect of this season. Advent itself means “coming.” We wait for something that has already happened, and at the same time has not yet happened. The magnifying glass of our faith gives us the sight that God’s time is fundamentally different from our own. In the mind of God, something that we are waiting for is already realized. God plants the vision of what has been realized in our minds and draws us nearer to it, but we must take the initiative to grasp that vision. This is what Jesus means when he grows up and says to the Pharisees in Luke 17: 20, “The Kingdom is not coming with signs that can be observed…the kingdom is already here in your midst and you do not see it.” Though Mary’s song sounds ignorant or foolish or even idiotic at first glance, if we realize that Elizabeth and Mary are “filled with the Holy Spirit” when they are making such proclamations, we might be able to understand that they are seeing more deeply than what is on the surface. They are viewing the world in Kairos time. Kairos encourages us to wait and have joyful anticipation for an event that happened 2 millenia ago. When we hold up the magnifying glass of our faith, when we see the great detail and complexity of a life lived in hope and anticipation, we begin to understand that what we know as wisdom in this life is great foolishness compared with the great transcendent wisdom of our Father. When we look at the idea that the hungry are given food and the rich are sent empty away through the magnifying glass of faith, we can see the details of truth that show us our riches and belongings are distractions from the path of Christ and that a heart hungry for truth and justice can be much more filling than one hungry for more possessions. Through the magnifying glass of faith, we can see that the proud and powerful are indeed brought low by their insatiable egos, while the lowly are lifted up by their example of humility. Ultimately it may not be Mary’s song that is foolishness, but what we generally perceive to be “the hard facts” that are “foolish.” When our hearts beat in Kairos time, it is more apparent that the things we generally put a premium on are worthless and the things we spend our life ignoring are precious jewels. Christmas is a time when this truth attempts to break through the veneer of our common distractions. God born in a barn….A poor virgin being impregnated by the Holy Spirit…Wise men from the East tracking down a star only to find a poor peasant boy, and then giving him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The circumstances all bend our expectations—they prepare us to receive a great gift, which is beyond us and at the same time in our midst, behind us and at the same time before us, within us and at the same time around us. The story of Christmas turns our usual idea of power and importance and glory and all on its head, and Mary’s song celebrates this great, insane vision of a world in a way molded by the prophets, and brought to a new kind of reality in the life of the little baby she carries. Though the church may have lost touch with the revolution this song calls for, it is still captured in the fervent anticipation of Advent, when we wait for the coming of a man who would boldly proclaim, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." and would understand that reality within his own heart. This we believe is the nature and presence of Christ. When we strive toward this mission, we strive toward Christ’s mission, and Christ becomes born anew in our midst! Thanks be to God, amen!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
Christmas Eve Service
This Sunday Evening we will celebrate Christ's birth at a special Christmas Eve Candlelight Lessons and Carols service. Please feel free to bring your friends and family. Communion will be shared, and like always, all are invited to participate regardless of church membership or creed. The service will begin at 6pm in the sanctuary.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Advent 3 Sermon--Joseph: Silent Might
Lamentations 3: 19-26
Matthew 1: 18-25
We worship a man who knew himself as Yeshua bin Yosef—most of us know him as Jesus. bin Yosef means “son of Joseph.” But who is this man who gave his name to our savior? Who is this man who was the quiet guardian of God incarnate? Who is this man who no doubt instructed little Jesus in the Law and carpentry? One description that sticks out in my mind about the character of Joseph is from the “Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” (which I have been in enough times to fill the role of every male Herdman). In this play, Imogene, the loudmouth youngest sister who plays the angel Gabrielle as the “mighty marvo!” tells whichever brother it is that is playing Joseph in a dramatization of the nativity that “He got an easy part, all he has to do is stand there and keep his mouth shut!”
Many of us have the image of Joseph as an older carpenter. Some of us may have heard that Joseph was a widower, and that Mary was his second wife. This is never mentioned by the 4 gospels of the New Testament, but it was a tradition of the early church based in large part on the Protoevangelon (or Pre-Gospel) of James—a non-Canonized or “unofficial” document purported to have been written by James, the brother of Jesus and head of the church in Jerusalem.
We do know that Joseph is not mentioned in the Gospels after the journey to Jerusalem when Jesus was 12 years old. So he possibly did die when Jesus was relatively young. Of course the Gospels never tell us this either. The fact that the greek word used to describe Joseph’s occupation is more appropriately translated as a “skilled artisan” means that the popular conceptualization of Joseph as a simple carpenter may be an artistic invention. Basically, Joseph is a phantom figure in our faith history. We know that he must have taught Jesus his profession, because we know that according to Mark 6:3. Jesus was a carpenter (or perhaps a skilled artisan) as well.
Whoever Joseph was, and whatever role he had in teaching Jesus, we can learn from him quite a bit simply from the small amount of information we have about him.
Many pastors, theologians, and NT scholars refer to Mary as the “first disciple.” She is the first who receives news of God’s incarnation in the world and the wonderful gift that is in store for us. She is the first disciple and she is a vocal disciple. When she hears the news, she runs to her cousin and tells her about it, then they break out into song together. Her fiancé Joseph is not known by much of anything, but today I believe we should start thinking of him as the “second disciple.”
The second disciple is a quiet one. Not a word from him in all the Gospels. While Luke deals with Mary’s encounter with the angel and the news she received, Matthew focuses on Joseph’s visits from the angel. While Mary bursts into song at the news of her bodily and spiritual participation in the incarnation, Joseph awakens from a dream, hears the call, and sets his eyes toward Betheleham, then toward Egypt, then toward Nazareth. He merely hears and acts—no commentary, no argument, no discussion. Joseph’s quiet faith and determination to not abandon his commitments is a good example for us today.
The news must’ve put a pit in Joseph’s stomach when he first heard it from Mary. It was news that was punishable by death in that time and culture. Joseph knew that he wasn’t responsible for Mary’s pregnancy, so it must have been someone else. He was at risk of being publicly humiliated. But the scripture tells us something else about Joseph: he was a “just” man.
Then we come to the next beautiful line, “Joseph was unwilling to put her to shame.” That line says mountains to us about Joseph. He didn’t want to hurt Mary. He didn’t want to destroy her. He was not punitive. He was not revengeful. He wasn’t out for a pound of her flesh. Instead, Joseph had these feelings of grace towards her, and so he resolved to dismiss her quietly. Not tell her parents. Not tell his parents. Not tell the Jewish rabbi. Not to tell the Jewish court so he could get his money back. … So the first story about the birth of Jesus is a story of compassion, a story of grace, a story of a man who had been enormously violated by a pregnant woman and he vowed not to punish her. He had been deeply violated, yet he still cared for her and took care of her. This is the gospel.
Yes, Joseph does seem to be “supporting cast” in the great story of the nativity in our popular conception. However, Joseph’s response to the news received is far from getting “out of the way.” Joseph had tremendous responsibilities, and was used by God in the fulfillment of these responsibilities.
Joseph’s response to the angel’s guidance gives us a vivid and encouraging example of God’s activity we find in the Bible. Joseph responds to Mary’s news of pregnancy with empathy. Empathy means not just listening to another’s story but also participating in the other’s story, so that the listener not only hears and believes the facts of another’s experience, but actually feels the experience at some level. To have empathy with another is not simply to believe what that person says but to feel along with that person, to participate in that person’s experience.
Joseph acts with empathy because when he could have turned Mary loose and have been done with it, he instead joined her in her experience. Instead of the mysterious pregnancy being Mary’s problem, he took it on himself as well. He put her on a donkey and he took her to his homeland, so they could be counted as a couple. A couple with a son that any nosey neighbor or friend could easily count backwards nine months and mutter to themselves or whisper at a party, “So…that’s why they got married.” In his display of empathy, Joseph’s story is a beautiful prologue to the story of a man named “God WITH us: Jesus.”
My original idea in titling this sermon “Silent Might” was that Joseph had enough courage and enough faith to “let go and let God” as the popular saying goes. Many times, it seems like we celebrate only those who are called to voice the faith: to put it into song, or speak about it in front of others.
The words “Witnessing” or “Evangelism” probably conjure up images in our minds of talking with people about faith, hope, and salvation. Joseph is an inspiration to those of us who may not feel so compelled to express our faith with words and song, but with quiet action. He quietly and boldly stands behind Mary when the news gets around town that Mary is pregnant. He could have easily and honorably broken his ties with her and gone on with his own life. But he didn’t. He accepted his responsibility without a word of argument or question.
In a sermon in Harvard University's Memorial Church, Peter Gomes talked about the particular role that Joseph had to play in the Incarnation: He writes,“the miracle of Christmas, (dare I say it?) is not the virgin birth of the creeds. The miracle to which our attention should be drawn at this holy season is the fact Joseph believes what he hears and acts upon it. Miracles, some say, are things that happen in the absence of evidence to explain them. Well, that's not a miracle at all. That is merely a mystery, or an as yet unexplained phenomena, or unbelievable fantasy. The Bible is not concerned with unbelievable fantasies. The miracle here is that a sensible, reasonable, pragmatic, and good man, a man named Joseph, acts contrary to the evidence that surrounds him on every hand. He sees the evidence. He understands it. He knows its implications and he acts contrary to it.”
Faith is not life lived in the absence of evidence. Faith is life lived contrary to the evidence on hand. The evidence on hand is that people are selfish. The evidence on hand is that we live in a dog-eat-dog world. The evidence on hand is that we should keep our distance from the problems. And yet the gospel tells us that we love our neighbors, that we hope for peace in the middle of war, that we stand alongside people in the midst of difficulties. That is faith contrary to all the evidence surrounding you. That then is why this is an example of faith: life lived contrary to the evidence.
And, when he could have cut it off with Mary and saved face, he stayed beside her and did his part. And, it was as an active participant in the great drama of the incarnation that he played, not as a potted plant. Clear in his conscience as to what his duty now was, with a little help from the angels, he did it. And, for that we must give him credit, praise and pride of place.
Therefore, we remember Joseph this Sunday, this Sunday before we remember Mary. William Willimon points out that most of us can probably identify more with Joseph, the second disciple, than with Mary, the first. “Most of us are ordinary. We live and work in some rather drab places. We are rarely the first to get the news, when God makes some large move. We mind our own business. But then, in to many an ordinary life, God intrudes, comes upon us. And even if you are not good with words, couldn't burst into a hymn if you had to, if you will at least whisper, yes, then that makes you like Joseph: A disciple, somebody who is willing to follow the strange and unexpected movements of God in Jesus Christ wherever that takes you. And that, friends, is enough.”
Matthew 1: 18-25
We worship a man who knew himself as Yeshua bin Yosef—most of us know him as Jesus. bin Yosef means “son of Joseph.” But who is this man who gave his name to our savior? Who is this man who was the quiet guardian of God incarnate? Who is this man who no doubt instructed little Jesus in the Law and carpentry? One description that sticks out in my mind about the character of Joseph is from the “Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” (which I have been in enough times to fill the role of every male Herdman). In this play, Imogene, the loudmouth youngest sister who plays the angel Gabrielle as the “mighty marvo!” tells whichever brother it is that is playing Joseph in a dramatization of the nativity that “He got an easy part, all he has to do is stand there and keep his mouth shut!”
Many of us have the image of Joseph as an older carpenter. Some of us may have heard that Joseph was a widower, and that Mary was his second wife. This is never mentioned by the 4 gospels of the New Testament, but it was a tradition of the early church based in large part on the Protoevangelon (or Pre-Gospel) of James—a non-Canonized or “unofficial” document purported to have been written by James, the brother of Jesus and head of the church in Jerusalem.
We do know that Joseph is not mentioned in the Gospels after the journey to Jerusalem when Jesus was 12 years old. So he possibly did die when Jesus was relatively young. Of course the Gospels never tell us this either. The fact that the greek word used to describe Joseph’s occupation is more appropriately translated as a “skilled artisan” means that the popular conceptualization of Joseph as a simple carpenter may be an artistic invention. Basically, Joseph is a phantom figure in our faith history. We know that he must have taught Jesus his profession, because we know that according to Mark 6:3. Jesus was a carpenter (or perhaps a skilled artisan) as well.
Whoever Joseph was, and whatever role he had in teaching Jesus, we can learn from him quite a bit simply from the small amount of information we have about him.
Many pastors, theologians, and NT scholars refer to Mary as the “first disciple.” She is the first who receives news of God’s incarnation in the world and the wonderful gift that is in store for us. She is the first disciple and she is a vocal disciple. When she hears the news, she runs to her cousin and tells her about it, then they break out into song together. Her fiancé Joseph is not known by much of anything, but today I believe we should start thinking of him as the “second disciple.”
The second disciple is a quiet one. Not a word from him in all the Gospels. While Luke deals with Mary’s encounter with the angel and the news she received, Matthew focuses on Joseph’s visits from the angel. While Mary bursts into song at the news of her bodily and spiritual participation in the incarnation, Joseph awakens from a dream, hears the call, and sets his eyes toward Betheleham, then toward Egypt, then toward Nazareth. He merely hears and acts—no commentary, no argument, no discussion. Joseph’s quiet faith and determination to not abandon his commitments is a good example for us today.
The news must’ve put a pit in Joseph’s stomach when he first heard it from Mary. It was news that was punishable by death in that time and culture. Joseph knew that he wasn’t responsible for Mary’s pregnancy, so it must have been someone else. He was at risk of being publicly humiliated. But the scripture tells us something else about Joseph: he was a “just” man.
Then we come to the next beautiful line, “Joseph was unwilling to put her to shame.” That line says mountains to us about Joseph. He didn’t want to hurt Mary. He didn’t want to destroy her. He was not punitive. He was not revengeful. He wasn’t out for a pound of her flesh. Instead, Joseph had these feelings of grace towards her, and so he resolved to dismiss her quietly. Not tell her parents. Not tell his parents. Not tell the Jewish rabbi. Not to tell the Jewish court so he could get his money back. … So the first story about the birth of Jesus is a story of compassion, a story of grace, a story of a man who had been enormously violated by a pregnant woman and he vowed not to punish her. He had been deeply violated, yet he still cared for her and took care of her. This is the gospel.
Yes, Joseph does seem to be “supporting cast” in the great story of the nativity in our popular conception. However, Joseph’s response to the news received is far from getting “out of the way.” Joseph had tremendous responsibilities, and was used by God in the fulfillment of these responsibilities.
Joseph’s response to the angel’s guidance gives us a vivid and encouraging example of God’s activity we find in the Bible. Joseph responds to Mary’s news of pregnancy with empathy. Empathy means not just listening to another’s story but also participating in the other’s story, so that the listener not only hears and believes the facts of another’s experience, but actually feels the experience at some level. To have empathy with another is not simply to believe what that person says but to feel along with that person, to participate in that person’s experience.
Joseph acts with empathy because when he could have turned Mary loose and have been done with it, he instead joined her in her experience. Instead of the mysterious pregnancy being Mary’s problem, he took it on himself as well. He put her on a donkey and he took her to his homeland, so they could be counted as a couple. A couple with a son that any nosey neighbor or friend could easily count backwards nine months and mutter to themselves or whisper at a party, “So…that’s why they got married.” In his display of empathy, Joseph’s story is a beautiful prologue to the story of a man named “God WITH us: Jesus.”
My original idea in titling this sermon “Silent Might” was that Joseph had enough courage and enough faith to “let go and let God” as the popular saying goes. Many times, it seems like we celebrate only those who are called to voice the faith: to put it into song, or speak about it in front of others.
The words “Witnessing” or “Evangelism” probably conjure up images in our minds of talking with people about faith, hope, and salvation. Joseph is an inspiration to those of us who may not feel so compelled to express our faith with words and song, but with quiet action. He quietly and boldly stands behind Mary when the news gets around town that Mary is pregnant. He could have easily and honorably broken his ties with her and gone on with his own life. But he didn’t. He accepted his responsibility without a word of argument or question.
In a sermon in Harvard University's Memorial Church, Peter Gomes talked about the particular role that Joseph had to play in the Incarnation: He writes,“the miracle of Christmas, (dare I say it?) is not the virgin birth of the creeds. The miracle to which our attention should be drawn at this holy season is the fact Joseph believes what he hears and acts upon it. Miracles, some say, are things that happen in the absence of evidence to explain them. Well, that's not a miracle at all. That is merely a mystery, or an as yet unexplained phenomena, or unbelievable fantasy. The Bible is not concerned with unbelievable fantasies. The miracle here is that a sensible, reasonable, pragmatic, and good man, a man named Joseph, acts contrary to the evidence that surrounds him on every hand. He sees the evidence. He understands it. He knows its implications and he acts contrary to it.”
Faith is not life lived in the absence of evidence. Faith is life lived contrary to the evidence on hand. The evidence on hand is that people are selfish. The evidence on hand is that we live in a dog-eat-dog world. The evidence on hand is that we should keep our distance from the problems. And yet the gospel tells us that we love our neighbors, that we hope for peace in the middle of war, that we stand alongside people in the midst of difficulties. That is faith contrary to all the evidence surrounding you. That then is why this is an example of faith: life lived contrary to the evidence.
And, when he could have cut it off with Mary and saved face, he stayed beside her and did his part. And, it was as an active participant in the great drama of the incarnation that he played, not as a potted plant. Clear in his conscience as to what his duty now was, with a little help from the angels, he did it. And, for that we must give him credit, praise and pride of place.
Therefore, we remember Joseph this Sunday, this Sunday before we remember Mary. William Willimon points out that most of us can probably identify more with Joseph, the second disciple, than with Mary, the first. “Most of us are ordinary. We live and work in some rather drab places. We are rarely the first to get the news, when God makes some large move. We mind our own business. But then, in to many an ordinary life, God intrudes, comes upon us. And even if you are not good with words, couldn't burst into a hymn if you had to, if you will at least whisper, yes, then that makes you like Joseph: A disciple, somebody who is willing to follow the strange and unexpected movements of God in Jesus Christ wherever that takes you. And that, friends, is enough.”
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Shepherds and Livestock: God's Royal Guests--Advent 2 Sermon
Psalm 46
Luke 2: 8-20
The shepherd lifestyle is one of foul odors and ill repute. Long days and nights of waiting and watching are punctuated by the occasional thrill of chasing off a coyote or some other animal hungry for some easy prey. Shepherds aren’t the strongest, aren’t the smartest, aren’t wealthy or noble. Yet our God seems to have a high regard for them. The heroes of our faith are shepherds: Jacob, Moses, David. The prophets even see God as a shepherd, tending the flock of Israel. Jesus verifies that the prophets are right, because he says that he is a shepherd, even though we know his profession is carpentry. We also see in the nativity story that Jesus is born amongst the animals in a stable. He’s put in a feeding trough instead of a cradle. The fact that God incarnate is more appropriately born in a stable among cows and donkeys and sheep and that his first human visitors are poor, crude shepherds tells us something very important about our ideas about power and glory and importance. What we generally regard as royal doesn’t fit the mold that God defines for us in the very birth and life of Jesus Christ. Even though we know that God came into the world in such a way, we tend to whitewash the story in our imagery. The shepherds in the field visited by the angel have clean headdresses on, we probably don’t think of the smell they carry. The livestock in the stable kneel gracefully in the clean hay. We probably don’t think of the smell of donkey sweat or animal droppings corrupting our picture. What is it about shepherds and livestock that appeal so strongly to God?I’ve read a book called “Where Heaven Touches Earth” by a UM pastor in Shreveport named Rob Weber. The first chapter focused on the shepherds’ activity of “keeping watch.” Despite the common image of shepherds on a grassy hillsides with a full moon illuminating the scene, Weber points out that many nights clouds must’ve obscured the light of the moon, or there was a new moon and not much light. Shepherds must’ve had to develop another way to “watch” their flocks in case of these kinds of occasions. Many of you who have farms or ranches know how the shepherds “Keep Watch” don’t you….they listen!
This “listening” relationship is mutual. The sheep also listen to the voice of the shepherd. Jesus must’ve learned a lot from the shepherds in his life, because he knew this relationship well. In fact, in the Gospel of John Jesus describes himself as the “Good Shepherd.” And can you guess what the sheep do who follow this good shepherd? Well, Jesus tells us, he says, there in that beloved story in John 10, “I know my sheep, and my sheep know me…and they follow me by listening to my voice.” The voice of the shepherd is very important—but on the night of the nativity, those shepherds in the hills wound up at the right place because they listened. Advent is a time for careful listening, active anticipation. Waiting in this case is not a passive activity. Advent Waiting is making room, clearing the path. The hymn that we sang this morning is an ancient hymn telling the story of each beast’s contribution to the event where “Heaven Touches Earth.” The simple beauty of the hymn tells of each animal speaking with pride about what they could give as a gift to the holy family. Though we may sometimes think animals aren’t really worth God’s attention because they are somehow “lower life forms” perhaps it will give us a good dose of humility to know that God does use animals. The story of Balaam’s ass is not the only part of the Bible where animals play a key role in getting across to humans what God wants them to know. God’s response to Job tells us that animals occupy the mind of God just as humans do, and we might do well to be as attentive as they are. If we are to take a note from the shepherds and the livestock, we may understand that a key to our Advent preparations is to tune our ears to the silence, listening for the angel choir. Weber points out that in this day and age we have much to distract us from the silence. I’m sure we can identify with one another when we talk about how we tend to cover up the silence with “background noise.” Why? Because it makes us more comfortable I suppose. The silence often sounds hollow and it makes us feel empty. So we fill it up, we turn on, tune in, and drop out as they said in the 60’s, (So I’ve heard.) Recently I played a little game with the youth where I gave them an advertising slogan or a familiar image from a commercial, and they rang a bell to see who the first person would be to get the advertising company. I remember when I wrote the slogans, I sat down at the computer and mentally spewed forth the questions and answers in a purge of “mental space.” Isn’t it amazing that most of us can probably rattle off a whole litany of commercial taglines and slogans, but very few of us have committed the scriptures to memory?It is amazing to me that John Wesley and other people of his time had the entire Bible committed to memory. You often see on television Victorian era people reciting long poems from memory. I don’t have any poems committed to memory. I don’t have any scriptures longer than a couple verses committed to memory. But I can tell you that Burger King lets you have it “your way.” I can tell you who the “Great American Road belongs to” (And that one has been off the air for 15 years or more—that little bit of information has occupied a little chunk of my memory for 15 years or more!” I can tell you what kind of insurance a duck is trying to sell me and what kind a little green lizard is trying to sell me or what kind is “like a good neighbor.” I can tell you who is the King of Beers, who “tastes great but is less filling,” or what is Australian for Beer. I can go on, but the point is that perhaps you can identify with me. My mind has been bought with entertainment. Some sociologists say this American culture is “entertaining itself to death.” In many ways we are. We’re trading our own authentic creativity for pre-packaged sound bites of corporate creativity designed to help us spend our money. Advent asks us to “keep watch.” It invites us to prepare. How do we prepare in such a crazy, image laden world? We turn off, tune in, and drop everything. Actively anticipating takes our undivided attention. The shepherds were accustomed to active anticipation because they had to defend their flocks from predators. To do that, they had to know what to expect. We too know what to expect. We have been given the Good news. We know to look for God where we might least expect to find God. Jesus was born in a feeding trough. God chose to become incarnate in a little baby, born in precarious circumstances to parents of little means. God’s sign to the outcasts was as direct as a visit from a heavenly being. To the powerful kings and sages, God merely put a star in the sky—A subtle sign that something important was happening.
There is a saying that “The universe is filled with miracles and surprises simply waiting for our wits to become sharp enough to notice them.” IN Elizabeth Barrett Browning’ s words, “Earth’s crammed with heaven,/ and every common bush afire with God; / And only he who sees takes off his shoes; / The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.”
This poem for me illuminates the meaning and practice of Holy Communion, which we celebrate this morning. If we gaze with awe and wonder, if we look with Advent eyes at something as common as the bread and juice, we might see that it too is afire with God. This ritual was instituted by Jesus to assure us that he would always be with us. The miracle of Christmas is that God comes to the world “In the flesh,” The miracle of the Eucharist is that this person of God who came to us “in the flesh” is still with us by the power of the Holy Spirit in this very act of eating bread and drinking juice. Jesus tells us that by participating in this ritual we are eating his flesh and drinking his blood. Though this may sound odd to our ears, I think of Jesus speaking here from his Divine nature. If we are to think of the bread, we might picture the soil growing the grain, the fields of wheat bending in the wind, the hands of laborers harvesting the fields and turning the wheat into flour.
We might picture the contributions of all of these things coming together to produce this loaf. This wide range of images associated with bread keys us into the diverse nature of God’s presence in the world. Christ’s body is visible to the Advent eyes even when we think we are observing something mundane. If we think of the juice, we might think of the hillside vineyards fed by the rain. We might think of that vine taking the moisture from the air and the ground and gathering it in the sweet juice of its fruit. Why is it sweet? So that it will be eaten and the seeds within will find new life in new soil. What a miracle! The blood of Christ does indeed course through the entire process that brings this cup to our lips.
If we embrace silence and attune ourselves to the quiet miracles going on right under our noses, we might just be able to perceive the divine reality in the simple things we usually overlook. Bread and Wine, Babies and Mangers, flesh and blood. These are gifts to us shepherds. If we see the light, will we travel to the stable? Will we go from there and spread the news far and wide like the shepherds in the scripture? That is up to us! Like the shepherds, God has invited us to be special guests at the birth of his Son. And it happens right here………
Luke 2: 8-20
The shepherd lifestyle is one of foul odors and ill repute. Long days and nights of waiting and watching are punctuated by the occasional thrill of chasing off a coyote or some other animal hungry for some easy prey. Shepherds aren’t the strongest, aren’t the smartest, aren’t wealthy or noble. Yet our God seems to have a high regard for them. The heroes of our faith are shepherds: Jacob, Moses, David. The prophets even see God as a shepherd, tending the flock of Israel. Jesus verifies that the prophets are right, because he says that he is a shepherd, even though we know his profession is carpentry. We also see in the nativity story that Jesus is born amongst the animals in a stable. He’s put in a feeding trough instead of a cradle. The fact that God incarnate is more appropriately born in a stable among cows and donkeys and sheep and that his first human visitors are poor, crude shepherds tells us something very important about our ideas about power and glory and importance. What we generally regard as royal doesn’t fit the mold that God defines for us in the very birth and life of Jesus Christ. Even though we know that God came into the world in such a way, we tend to whitewash the story in our imagery. The shepherds in the field visited by the angel have clean headdresses on, we probably don’t think of the smell they carry. The livestock in the stable kneel gracefully in the clean hay. We probably don’t think of the smell of donkey sweat or animal droppings corrupting our picture. What is it about shepherds and livestock that appeal so strongly to God?I’ve read a book called “Where Heaven Touches Earth” by a UM pastor in Shreveport named Rob Weber. The first chapter focused on the shepherds’ activity of “keeping watch.” Despite the common image of shepherds on a grassy hillsides with a full moon illuminating the scene, Weber points out that many nights clouds must’ve obscured the light of the moon, or there was a new moon and not much light. Shepherds must’ve had to develop another way to “watch” their flocks in case of these kinds of occasions. Many of you who have farms or ranches know how the shepherds “Keep Watch” don’t you….they listen!
This “listening” relationship is mutual. The sheep also listen to the voice of the shepherd. Jesus must’ve learned a lot from the shepherds in his life, because he knew this relationship well. In fact, in the Gospel of John Jesus describes himself as the “Good Shepherd.” And can you guess what the sheep do who follow this good shepherd? Well, Jesus tells us, he says, there in that beloved story in John 10, “I know my sheep, and my sheep know me…and they follow me by listening to my voice.” The voice of the shepherd is very important—but on the night of the nativity, those shepherds in the hills wound up at the right place because they listened. Advent is a time for careful listening, active anticipation. Waiting in this case is not a passive activity. Advent Waiting is making room, clearing the path. The hymn that we sang this morning is an ancient hymn telling the story of each beast’s contribution to the event where “Heaven Touches Earth.” The simple beauty of the hymn tells of each animal speaking with pride about what they could give as a gift to the holy family. Though we may sometimes think animals aren’t really worth God’s attention because they are somehow “lower life forms” perhaps it will give us a good dose of humility to know that God does use animals. The story of Balaam’s ass is not the only part of the Bible where animals play a key role in getting across to humans what God wants them to know. God’s response to Job tells us that animals occupy the mind of God just as humans do, and we might do well to be as attentive as they are. If we are to take a note from the shepherds and the livestock, we may understand that a key to our Advent preparations is to tune our ears to the silence, listening for the angel choir. Weber points out that in this day and age we have much to distract us from the silence. I’m sure we can identify with one another when we talk about how we tend to cover up the silence with “background noise.” Why? Because it makes us more comfortable I suppose. The silence often sounds hollow and it makes us feel empty. So we fill it up, we turn on, tune in, and drop out as they said in the 60’s, (So I’ve heard.) Recently I played a little game with the youth where I gave them an advertising slogan or a familiar image from a commercial, and they rang a bell to see who the first person would be to get the advertising company. I remember when I wrote the slogans, I sat down at the computer and mentally spewed forth the questions and answers in a purge of “mental space.” Isn’t it amazing that most of us can probably rattle off a whole litany of commercial taglines and slogans, but very few of us have committed the scriptures to memory?It is amazing to me that John Wesley and other people of his time had the entire Bible committed to memory. You often see on television Victorian era people reciting long poems from memory. I don’t have any poems committed to memory. I don’t have any scriptures longer than a couple verses committed to memory. But I can tell you that Burger King lets you have it “your way.” I can tell you who the “Great American Road belongs to” (And that one has been off the air for 15 years or more—that little bit of information has occupied a little chunk of my memory for 15 years or more!” I can tell you what kind of insurance a duck is trying to sell me and what kind a little green lizard is trying to sell me or what kind is “like a good neighbor.” I can tell you who is the King of Beers, who “tastes great but is less filling,” or what is Australian for Beer. I can go on, but the point is that perhaps you can identify with me. My mind has been bought with entertainment. Some sociologists say this American culture is “entertaining itself to death.” In many ways we are. We’re trading our own authentic creativity for pre-packaged sound bites of corporate creativity designed to help us spend our money. Advent asks us to “keep watch.” It invites us to prepare. How do we prepare in such a crazy, image laden world? We turn off, tune in, and drop everything. Actively anticipating takes our undivided attention. The shepherds were accustomed to active anticipation because they had to defend their flocks from predators. To do that, they had to know what to expect. We too know what to expect. We have been given the Good news. We know to look for God where we might least expect to find God. Jesus was born in a feeding trough. God chose to become incarnate in a little baby, born in precarious circumstances to parents of little means. God’s sign to the outcasts was as direct as a visit from a heavenly being. To the powerful kings and sages, God merely put a star in the sky—A subtle sign that something important was happening.
There is a saying that “The universe is filled with miracles and surprises simply waiting for our wits to become sharp enough to notice them.” IN Elizabeth Barrett Browning’ s words, “Earth’s crammed with heaven,/ and every common bush afire with God; / And only he who sees takes off his shoes; / The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.”
This poem for me illuminates the meaning and practice of Holy Communion, which we celebrate this morning. If we gaze with awe and wonder, if we look with Advent eyes at something as common as the bread and juice, we might see that it too is afire with God. This ritual was instituted by Jesus to assure us that he would always be with us. The miracle of Christmas is that God comes to the world “In the flesh,” The miracle of the Eucharist is that this person of God who came to us “in the flesh” is still with us by the power of the Holy Spirit in this very act of eating bread and drinking juice. Jesus tells us that by participating in this ritual we are eating his flesh and drinking his blood. Though this may sound odd to our ears, I think of Jesus speaking here from his Divine nature. If we are to think of the bread, we might picture the soil growing the grain, the fields of wheat bending in the wind, the hands of laborers harvesting the fields and turning the wheat into flour.
We might picture the contributions of all of these things coming together to produce this loaf. This wide range of images associated with bread keys us into the diverse nature of God’s presence in the world. Christ’s body is visible to the Advent eyes even when we think we are observing something mundane. If we think of the juice, we might think of the hillside vineyards fed by the rain. We might think of that vine taking the moisture from the air and the ground and gathering it in the sweet juice of its fruit. Why is it sweet? So that it will be eaten and the seeds within will find new life in new soil. What a miracle! The blood of Christ does indeed course through the entire process that brings this cup to our lips.
If we embrace silence and attune ourselves to the quiet miracles going on right under our noses, we might just be able to perceive the divine reality in the simple things we usually overlook. Bread and Wine, Babies and Mangers, flesh and blood. These are gifts to us shepherds. If we see the light, will we travel to the stable? Will we go from there and spread the news far and wide like the shepherds in the scripture? That is up to us! Like the shepherds, God has invited us to be special guests at the birth of his Son. And it happens right here………
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
Luke 1: 26-38
Angels are perhaps the most visible part of our religion in American culture. Everywhere you turn you see angels: Books on angels, tv shows about angels. When I think of angels, I always think about War Eagle and craft fairs, because my mom always brought home an angel for her collection from craft fairs. My mother actually has a Christmas tree solely devoted to her angel ornament collection. You no doubt might think of Cary Grant as Dudley the angel in the “Bishop’s Wife” or Henry Travers as Clarence, the angel earning his wings in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” At a religion bookstore I worked at in West Hollywood, we had a whole section on angels. So, what is it about these emissaries of God that appeals so strongly to our culture? What does the Bible really say about angels? One thing that is not usually shown by our culture’s representation of Angels is the fact that they are by most accounts fairly terrifying. The first words out of an angels mouth in the Bible is usually, “Do not be afraid.” There are many accounts of angels in the Bible, but one that perhaps expresses best the otherworldly nature of these beings is Ezekial 1. Here is a detailed account of Ezekial’s vision of what is called a “cherub” and it is not quite as benign looking as a little fat baby with wings and a harp. What angels are is always played down by the Biblical texts. The most important thing about them is the message they bring. Angels are shown by scripture to be the emissaries of God. Bruggemann describes the distinction as being like political representatives of the Almighty power in heaven who come to earth bearing the Divine’s message. IN fact, the word angel simply means messenger in Greek.Angels offer encouragement, hope, assistance. Sometimes, what they bring is met by humans in struggle—As is the case with Jacob wrestling with an Angel on a riverbank. Our scripture this morning tells us that Mary is at first troubled by what the angel Gabrielle has to say to her.
The message that Gabrielle brought to Mary was that she would bear the Messiah. Though Mary does not wrestle with the angel who brought her word of the son she would bear, the news does create some strife and hardship for her life and for Joseph’s life.
Much like we today have made ready this sanctuary for the season of Advent, the angels spread the message among the people and to Mary and Joseph that they should make ready their hearts to receive a special gift: a child.
The message is clear to us today as well. Christ is born among us! Are we waiting on a dramatic divine encounter in the middle of the night to hear the news of Christ’s presence, or can we be content with the subtle miracles that tell of Christ’s birth in our lives? Hebrews 13:1-2 tells us that simply by showing hospitality to strangers, some have unknowingly entertained angels. If we live the life of hospitality in our hearts, if we let the hope of this Christ child born to Mary surround us and infuse us, we too will live among angels and be graced by their presence.
There is a song by an artist named Ben Harper called “Waiting on an angel.” In it, he references this saying from Hebrews, and declares that he’s waiting on an angel—one to carry him home. Are we preparing our heart for the season of waiting with joyful anticipation? Waiting plus joyfulness = hope. The message carried by the angels is quite often not an answer to a question, but rather the instilling of hope. Mary was asked to bear a son for nine months for the sake of world. We are asked to bear our patience and remain hopeful. This is the season of joyful anticipation. We are waiting on an angel—waiting on a message: and that message is: “Christ is born to us—go and seek him!” Amen.
Angels are perhaps the most visible part of our religion in American culture. Everywhere you turn you see angels: Books on angels, tv shows about angels. When I think of angels, I always think about War Eagle and craft fairs, because my mom always brought home an angel for her collection from craft fairs. My mother actually has a Christmas tree solely devoted to her angel ornament collection. You no doubt might think of Cary Grant as Dudley the angel in the “Bishop’s Wife” or Henry Travers as Clarence, the angel earning his wings in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” At a religion bookstore I worked at in West Hollywood, we had a whole section on angels. So, what is it about these emissaries of God that appeals so strongly to our culture? What does the Bible really say about angels? One thing that is not usually shown by our culture’s representation of Angels is the fact that they are by most accounts fairly terrifying. The first words out of an angels mouth in the Bible is usually, “Do not be afraid.” There are many accounts of angels in the Bible, but one that perhaps expresses best the otherworldly nature of these beings is Ezekial 1. Here is a detailed account of Ezekial’s vision of what is called a “cherub” and it is not quite as benign looking as a little fat baby with wings and a harp. What angels are is always played down by the Biblical texts. The most important thing about them is the message they bring. Angels are shown by scripture to be the emissaries of God. Bruggemann describes the distinction as being like political representatives of the Almighty power in heaven who come to earth bearing the Divine’s message. IN fact, the word angel simply means messenger in Greek.Angels offer encouragement, hope, assistance. Sometimes, what they bring is met by humans in struggle—As is the case with Jacob wrestling with an Angel on a riverbank. Our scripture this morning tells us that Mary is at first troubled by what the angel Gabrielle has to say to her.
The message that Gabrielle brought to Mary was that she would bear the Messiah. Though Mary does not wrestle with the angel who brought her word of the son she would bear, the news does create some strife and hardship for her life and for Joseph’s life.
Much like we today have made ready this sanctuary for the season of Advent, the angels spread the message among the people and to Mary and Joseph that they should make ready their hearts to receive a special gift: a child.
The message is clear to us today as well. Christ is born among us! Are we waiting on a dramatic divine encounter in the middle of the night to hear the news of Christ’s presence, or can we be content with the subtle miracles that tell of Christ’s birth in our lives? Hebrews 13:1-2 tells us that simply by showing hospitality to strangers, some have unknowingly entertained angels. If we live the life of hospitality in our hearts, if we let the hope of this Christ child born to Mary surround us and infuse us, we too will live among angels and be graced by their presence.
There is a song by an artist named Ben Harper called “Waiting on an angel.” In it, he references this saying from Hebrews, and declares that he’s waiting on an angel—one to carry him home. Are we preparing our heart for the season of waiting with joyful anticipation? Waiting plus joyfulness = hope. The message carried by the angels is quite often not an answer to a question, but rather the instilling of hope. Mary was asked to bear a son for nine months for the sake of world. We are asked to bear our patience and remain hopeful. This is the season of joyful anticipation. We are waiting on an angel—waiting on a message: and that message is: “Christ is born to us—go and seek him!” Amen.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Christ the King Sermon--Nov. 26 "King of Truth"
Scripture Texts:
Revelation 1: 4-8
John 18:33-37
Today we celebrate the Reign of Christ the King. It is an important Sunday because it is the last Sunday of the year in the Christian calendar. Last Advent, when the Christian calendar began, the focus was on the hope and dream of a savior-king, born in a stable. So, today it makes sense that the culmination of the year should reflect the actuality of that hope and dream that began last Advent.
Christ, the one who was born in a stable, who provided a model for our lives to live in a way that brings light to the world, who through crucifixion and resurrection mysteriously conveyed God’s grace to us in a real and tangible way—this same Christ is the true king of the universe—this same dusty young carpenter and dynamic and controversial preacher is one and the same as the very center of the Universe, the Ground of all Being, the Alpha and the Omega.
What does this mean for us today? How does this change our lives as they are experienced at the end of 2006 in Morris, Oklahoma? Who or why should we care if Jesus Christ assumes the role of a king—what does it mean for Christ to reign in heaven?
Mary Anderson writes on this topic in a Christian Century article, “I wonder and worry that people perceive Christ's rule to be similar to the queen of England's rule. Do we view Christ as one surrounded with the art and beauty of a tradition that is more antique than active? Do we see this figure of salvation as hopelessly outdated and practically mute in these postmodern times?
If we stretch ourselves to think in royal terms, we remember that although "king" may be an unfamiliar symbol, it is a political term. Kings rule a particular piece of geography. They may rule over a particular ethnic group. They have subjects--they have "a people." What we declare on this last Sunday of the church year is: Christ has made of us a people.”
The early church knew much persecution and difficulties in daily life. For them, the statement that “Jesus Christ is Lord” was a political statement—it carried the possible penalty of execution. In this day and age, in this country, I can walk down the street saying “Jesus Christ is Lord,” all I want with no repercussion. I can spout out that Jesus Christ is Lord till I am blue in the face and probably not even cause a stir.
I can say it at Wal-Mart, I can say it at the gas station, I can say it on the steps of the couthouse in Okmulgee, I can mention it to the postal workers at the post office, and contrary to what some of the folks on the radio tell you, I can go to the public school and say it all that I want to. These days, I can say it as much as I want—but does it carry the same meaning and message that it did when those Christians used to utter it in the Roman Empire? How does this truth make us “a people?”
This understanding of Christ is laden with political meaning for the first practitioners of Christianity. To say “Jesus Christ is Lord” was to make a declaration of independence from the Empire that knew only one Lord, the Caesar. It was a statement of bravery and rebelliousness that one living in a democratic society such as my own cannot fully comprehend. Our system of government allows me to make the statement that “Christ is Lord” without any fear of arrest, torture, or execution. So to some extent, my affirmation that “Christ is Lord” does not have the same potency as the same words uttered by early martyrs of the Church. However, I understand the words “Christ is Lord” to still carry political and economic meaning.
When I say these words, I commit myself to Christ over and beyond my commitments to any particular form of government, dogma, or other “power or principality.” As the early Christians committed themselves to Christ as Lord and thus turned their attention to alleviating the woes of the powerless and dispossessed people of the Empire, I see the direction of Christ pointing me toward the same ends.
The Lordship of Christ reigns in a Kingdom where the world has been turned upside down, and the powers and principalities that dominate the earth with callous disregard for compassion have been shaken out. Christ directs his disciples to carry out the healing and preaching that will facilitate the unveiling of this reality “in our midst.”
I associate the term “Lord” with the spirit of God who liberated the Israelites from enslavement in Egypt. I also celebrate Paul’s correlation between the Lord and freedom in 2nd Corinthians 3:17, which states, “The Lord is the Spirit; but where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”
Instead of affirming a Lord who rules my life in a coercive manner, I celebrate Jesus Christ as the Lord who gives freedom. When I state that Jesus Christ is Lord, I am giving my loyalty to the Risen Christ. I am committing myself to be the best disciple I can be. This is the freedom that the Lordship of Christ inspires. Christ leads by example.
I call Christ Lord because Christ goes first where he wants me to go. As I follow the Lord, Christ’s leadership becomes more and more clear to my eyes. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:12, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
Our scripture today from John shows us an instance of Pilate looking in the mirror and not being able to make out much of anything at all. Here Pilate is interrogating Jesus and is trying to determine whether this figure before him is a threat to his rule or not. The talk on the streets is that he is. They are proclaiming him the King of the Jews, the Son of David—and Pilate is familiar enough with his assigned territory to know what that means.
The people evidently think this is a candidate for insurrection. They want to see Jesus do the same things that David did, namely rout their enemies out of Palestine and regain power for themselves. This was something that could not happen if the Pax Romana, the Roman Peace, was to be preserved. Interestingly, in Pilate’s interrogation of Jesus, he becomes the one who becomes interrogated. Jesus masters him and turns his questions on their head. He invites Pilate to know him theologically, not simply politically. Pilate can’t get beyond the politics though, and ironically answers his own question “I am not a Jew, am I?” with a positive. You see, John used the word, “Jews,” not so much ethnically but instead to label those who did not hear and believe the truth of Jesus.
Pilate asks Jesus, “So you are a king?” Jesus replies, “You say that I am a king, for this I was born, and for this I came into the world: to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Then Pilate asks the question, “What is truth?” What an interchange! One king asking the true king, “what is truth?” We want to know too. John uses the word truth in 21 verses in his Gospel, and evidently the concept is important to him. Jesus is the king of Truth, he is the truth, and we want Jesus to be a little more descriptive about his kingdom.
Jesus speaks about Truth as though it can possess us. He has come into the world to testify to the Truth. The truth possesses him, for sure, and another thing, if we belong to the Truth, we listen to his voice. So what does it mean for us today that Christ is King? It means that Christ invites us to be owned by the Truth. And what is that truth?
That truth is that the Kingdom is here in our midst, as Jesus says in Luke 17:20. It is a Kingdom that we open our eyes to—it is a kingdom where we open our eyes to one another and see brothers and sisters. It is a kingdom in which we look at the homeless, the orphan, the prisoner, the AIDS patient, and we see royalty. What would you do if the President or some Hollywood celebrity walked into this church right now? We’d probably all fall over ourselves with respect. I’d stutter and sputter and try to find some way to present our little fellowship here in a dignified manner. We’d be star-struck.
Christ is the King of the kingdom in which all of these people are more than celebrities or dignitaries, they are Children of God. What is truth?, Pilate asks, “The truth,” says Jesus, “shall set you free!” Living in this awareness does indeed set us free. It sets us free to be loved by God despite ourselves. The truth is grace. God’s grace is the truth that is the secret of the universe. It is like a pearl of great price, it is like a lost coin found and celebrated. Grace gives us the eyes to see our fellow brothers and sisters through the light of love. Grace gives us the eyes to see God’s presence in all of creation. Grace gives us the freedom to look at ourselves in the mirror and know that God loves us as we are.
Christ is King, indeed. Christ is the King who sets us free by giving us the truth—the truth that God loves us unconditionally. This unconditional kingdom is not just a time in the future when Christ comes in victory to usher in this understanding all over the world, it is a condition of the heart in the present. Christ can reign RIGHT NOW in our hearts if we open our hearts to the grace of God and put that grace into action in our lives and in our encounters with others. Christ says, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, who was and is and is to come.” Christ’s reign is not constrained by time, it is outside of time. It comes to us whenever we love one another, as Christ commanded us in the Gospel.
Can you imagine? John’s account of the interaction between Pilate and Jesus ends in a question. Jesus does not give an answer to Pilate’s question “what is truth?” But if he had, we can imagine what his answer might have been based on our reading of the rest of the Gospel. Jesus might have said, “My son, the truth is that God loves you and accepts you despite what you will do to me. This truth should be powerful enough for you to change your life—for you to walk in a way that leads to the light and glory of God.” Jesus had said earlier in John, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” The answer to Pilate’s question, “What is truth?” was sitting right in front of him.
Jesus might have used the words from the Revelation to John, “every eye will see me, even those who pieced me, and on account of me, all of the tribes of the earth will wail.” The truth is that the love that shines from God through the life and death of who in Pilate’s eyes was an ordinary peasant insurrectionist is a love that is intended for everyone. “To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, 6and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen”
Revelation 1: 4-8
John 18:33-37
Today we celebrate the Reign of Christ the King. It is an important Sunday because it is the last Sunday of the year in the Christian calendar. Last Advent, when the Christian calendar began, the focus was on the hope and dream of a savior-king, born in a stable. So, today it makes sense that the culmination of the year should reflect the actuality of that hope and dream that began last Advent.
Christ, the one who was born in a stable, who provided a model for our lives to live in a way that brings light to the world, who through crucifixion and resurrection mysteriously conveyed God’s grace to us in a real and tangible way—this same Christ is the true king of the universe—this same dusty young carpenter and dynamic and controversial preacher is one and the same as the very center of the Universe, the Ground of all Being, the Alpha and the Omega.
What does this mean for us today? How does this change our lives as they are experienced at the end of 2006 in Morris, Oklahoma? Who or why should we care if Jesus Christ assumes the role of a king—what does it mean for Christ to reign in heaven?
Mary Anderson writes on this topic in a Christian Century article, “I wonder and worry that people perceive Christ's rule to be similar to the queen of England's rule. Do we view Christ as one surrounded with the art and beauty of a tradition that is more antique than active? Do we see this figure of salvation as hopelessly outdated and practically mute in these postmodern times?
If we stretch ourselves to think in royal terms, we remember that although "king" may be an unfamiliar symbol, it is a political term. Kings rule a particular piece of geography. They may rule over a particular ethnic group. They have subjects--they have "a people." What we declare on this last Sunday of the church year is: Christ has made of us a people.”
The early church knew much persecution and difficulties in daily life. For them, the statement that “Jesus Christ is Lord” was a political statement—it carried the possible penalty of execution. In this day and age, in this country, I can walk down the street saying “Jesus Christ is Lord,” all I want with no repercussion. I can spout out that Jesus Christ is Lord till I am blue in the face and probably not even cause a stir.
I can say it at Wal-Mart, I can say it at the gas station, I can say it on the steps of the couthouse in Okmulgee, I can mention it to the postal workers at the post office, and contrary to what some of the folks on the radio tell you, I can go to the public school and say it all that I want to. These days, I can say it as much as I want—but does it carry the same meaning and message that it did when those Christians used to utter it in the Roman Empire? How does this truth make us “a people?”
This understanding of Christ is laden with political meaning for the first practitioners of Christianity. To say “Jesus Christ is Lord” was to make a declaration of independence from the Empire that knew only one Lord, the Caesar. It was a statement of bravery and rebelliousness that one living in a democratic society such as my own cannot fully comprehend. Our system of government allows me to make the statement that “Christ is Lord” without any fear of arrest, torture, or execution. So to some extent, my affirmation that “Christ is Lord” does not have the same potency as the same words uttered by early martyrs of the Church. However, I understand the words “Christ is Lord” to still carry political and economic meaning.
When I say these words, I commit myself to Christ over and beyond my commitments to any particular form of government, dogma, or other “power or principality.” As the early Christians committed themselves to Christ as Lord and thus turned their attention to alleviating the woes of the powerless and dispossessed people of the Empire, I see the direction of Christ pointing me toward the same ends.
The Lordship of Christ reigns in a Kingdom where the world has been turned upside down, and the powers and principalities that dominate the earth with callous disregard for compassion have been shaken out. Christ directs his disciples to carry out the healing and preaching that will facilitate the unveiling of this reality “in our midst.”
I associate the term “Lord” with the spirit of God who liberated the Israelites from enslavement in Egypt. I also celebrate Paul’s correlation between the Lord and freedom in 2nd Corinthians 3:17, which states, “The Lord is the Spirit; but where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”
Instead of affirming a Lord who rules my life in a coercive manner, I celebrate Jesus Christ as the Lord who gives freedom. When I state that Jesus Christ is Lord, I am giving my loyalty to the Risen Christ. I am committing myself to be the best disciple I can be. This is the freedom that the Lordship of Christ inspires. Christ leads by example.
I call Christ Lord because Christ goes first where he wants me to go. As I follow the Lord, Christ’s leadership becomes more and more clear to my eyes. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:12, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
Our scripture today from John shows us an instance of Pilate looking in the mirror and not being able to make out much of anything at all. Here Pilate is interrogating Jesus and is trying to determine whether this figure before him is a threat to his rule or not. The talk on the streets is that he is. They are proclaiming him the King of the Jews, the Son of David—and Pilate is familiar enough with his assigned territory to know what that means.
The people evidently think this is a candidate for insurrection. They want to see Jesus do the same things that David did, namely rout their enemies out of Palestine and regain power for themselves. This was something that could not happen if the Pax Romana, the Roman Peace, was to be preserved. Interestingly, in Pilate’s interrogation of Jesus, he becomes the one who becomes interrogated. Jesus masters him and turns his questions on their head. He invites Pilate to know him theologically, not simply politically. Pilate can’t get beyond the politics though, and ironically answers his own question “I am not a Jew, am I?” with a positive. You see, John used the word, “Jews,” not so much ethnically but instead to label those who did not hear and believe the truth of Jesus.
Pilate asks Jesus, “So you are a king?” Jesus replies, “You say that I am a king, for this I was born, and for this I came into the world: to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Then Pilate asks the question, “What is truth?” What an interchange! One king asking the true king, “what is truth?” We want to know too. John uses the word truth in 21 verses in his Gospel, and evidently the concept is important to him. Jesus is the king of Truth, he is the truth, and we want Jesus to be a little more descriptive about his kingdom.
Jesus speaks about Truth as though it can possess us. He has come into the world to testify to the Truth. The truth possesses him, for sure, and another thing, if we belong to the Truth, we listen to his voice. So what does it mean for us today that Christ is King? It means that Christ invites us to be owned by the Truth. And what is that truth?
That truth is that the Kingdom is here in our midst, as Jesus says in Luke 17:20. It is a Kingdom that we open our eyes to—it is a kingdom where we open our eyes to one another and see brothers and sisters. It is a kingdom in which we look at the homeless, the orphan, the prisoner, the AIDS patient, and we see royalty. What would you do if the President or some Hollywood celebrity walked into this church right now? We’d probably all fall over ourselves with respect. I’d stutter and sputter and try to find some way to present our little fellowship here in a dignified manner. We’d be star-struck.
Christ is the King of the kingdom in which all of these people are more than celebrities or dignitaries, they are Children of God. What is truth?, Pilate asks, “The truth,” says Jesus, “shall set you free!” Living in this awareness does indeed set us free. It sets us free to be loved by God despite ourselves. The truth is grace. God’s grace is the truth that is the secret of the universe. It is like a pearl of great price, it is like a lost coin found and celebrated. Grace gives us the eyes to see our fellow brothers and sisters through the light of love. Grace gives us the eyes to see God’s presence in all of creation. Grace gives us the freedom to look at ourselves in the mirror and know that God loves us as we are.
Christ is King, indeed. Christ is the King who sets us free by giving us the truth—the truth that God loves us unconditionally. This unconditional kingdom is not just a time in the future when Christ comes in victory to usher in this understanding all over the world, it is a condition of the heart in the present. Christ can reign RIGHT NOW in our hearts if we open our hearts to the grace of God and put that grace into action in our lives and in our encounters with others. Christ says, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, who was and is and is to come.” Christ’s reign is not constrained by time, it is outside of time. It comes to us whenever we love one another, as Christ commanded us in the Gospel.
Can you imagine? John’s account of the interaction between Pilate and Jesus ends in a question. Jesus does not give an answer to Pilate’s question “what is truth?” But if he had, we can imagine what his answer might have been based on our reading of the rest of the Gospel. Jesus might have said, “My son, the truth is that God loves you and accepts you despite what you will do to me. This truth should be powerful enough for you to change your life—for you to walk in a way that leads to the light and glory of God.” Jesus had said earlier in John, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” The answer to Pilate’s question, “What is truth?” was sitting right in front of him.
Jesus might have used the words from the Revelation to John, “every eye will see me, even those who pieced me, and on account of me, all of the tribes of the earth will wail.” The truth is that the love that shines from God through the life and death of who in Pilate’s eyes was an ordinary peasant insurrectionist is a love that is intended for everyone. “To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, 6and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen”
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Christ the King Sunday article
Royal treatment - Living by the Word - Column, Mary Anderson
ANOTHER CHURCH YEAR ends on November 23 with the festival of Christ the King. Although a few folks get jazzed over this festival, most of us need to be reminded that the church year is different from the calendar year, the academic year and the budget year.
On most minor and major church festivals, I remind my congregation how ancient these festivals are. I like to wow them with the vast number of centuries the church has been observing some of them. The festival of Christ the King spoils that plan. It was first introduced in 1925, and not until 1969 was it designated the festival for the last Sunday of the church year. Since I cannot wow them with a millennium's worth of tradition, I emphasize how the church continues to create traditions and make liturgical history.
It is odd to think that the 20th-century church developed a festival centering on Christ's image as king. In America we are as distanced from the image of "king" as we are from the image of "shepherd." Popular theology is more intrigued with the image of Jesus as CEO--a leadership role, to be sure, but hardly comparable to that of a king with a kingdom.
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Our American brush with royalty comes mostly from Britain. We might not be able to name any kings, but we are familiar with Queen Elizabeth and with the tabloids and tragedies surrounding her family. We would easily recognize the queen, yet many of us are unaware of what she really does from day to day and what her powers really are. Royalty is respected, it's part of the tradition, hut does it really do anything? Do we need it?
I wonder and worry that people perceive Christ's rule to be similar to the queen of England's rule. Do we view Christ as one surrounded with the art and beauty of a tradition that is more antique than active? Do we see this figure of salvation as hopelessly outdated and practically mute in these postmodern times?
If we stretch ourselves to think in royal terms, we remember that although "king" may be an unfamiliar symbol, it is a political term. Kings rule a particular piece of geography. They may rule over a particular ethnic group. They have subjects--they have "a people." What we declare on this last Sunday of the church year is: Christ has made of us a people.
Growing up in the South, I often heard the home folks ask of a sows girlfriend, "Who are her people?" They were fishing for two things: a family name and a location. "She's one of the Wingards from over Lexington way." Tiffs information could make one be embraced or shunned. I never heard "people" used outside of Family until I moved out of the overwhelmingly Christian South and lived in Chicago. Here "my people" was used for distinct ethnic groups and religious groups. And it was an unspoken truth that if any significant rubber ever hit any significant road, it was your people that mattered. A "people" was not a biological unit. They didn't necessarily share DNA but perhaps things more bonding: a common story, the foods and meals they are together, the experiences they endured and the hopes that endure through generations. I envied their sense of solidarity and identity. It's good to have a people.
Those who have been baptized into Christ Jesus are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand. Christ has made of us a people with his kingship. And that kingship is unique, unlike any earthly kingship that is bound by geographic borders. This kingdom is boundless. Christ's rule is not limited to a particular racial or national group. All are welcome, especially the chronically unwelcome ones. Christ reigns from the cross, we say. Christ rules, as many earthly rulers do, because he has waged battle and has been victorious. But Christ's enemies are sin, death and the devil, all defeated by Christ's death. In a kingdom of a lowly stable and an empty tomb, death birthed life.
To speak of kings and kingdoms, of subjects and peoples, requires a fair amount of translation for modern ears. Some, finding the translation too cumbersome, will opt for calling Jesus their CEO or therapist. But what will then be truly lost is not the title used, but the relationship implied.
To say Christ is king implies that we are subjects. The heart of this relationship is our dependence on a ruler who holds our lives in his hands. We do not choose a ruler as we elect a president, hire a CEO or contract with a therapist. We are Christ's people--we share the same eucharistic foods, we share the same story of faith, we stake our lives on the same hopes.
Here at the end of the church year, after living through another cycle of hearing the story of Jesus' life, of being taught by him in miracle and parable, we come to the coda of this hymn of praise. After another year of living our lives, burying our dead, baptizing our babies, marrying and divorcing, struggling and thriving, we bring all of the year's experiences to the climax of this day. We lay it all back at the feet of the one enthroned on the cross, giving thanks. It's great to be a people ruled in love and mercy.
ANOTHER CHURCH YEAR ends on November 23 with the festival of Christ the King. Although a few folks get jazzed over this festival, most of us need to be reminded that the church year is different from the calendar year, the academic year and the budget year.
On most minor and major church festivals, I remind my congregation how ancient these festivals are. I like to wow them with the vast number of centuries the church has been observing some of them. The festival of Christ the King spoils that plan. It was first introduced in 1925, and not until 1969 was it designated the festival for the last Sunday of the church year. Since I cannot wow them with a millennium's worth of tradition, I emphasize how the church continues to create traditions and make liturgical history.
It is odd to think that the 20th-century church developed a festival centering on Christ's image as king. In America we are as distanced from the image of "king" as we are from the image of "shepherd." Popular theology is more intrigued with the image of Jesus as CEO--a leadership role, to be sure, but hardly comparable to that of a king with a kingdom.
Advertisement
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}
// -->
Our American brush with royalty comes mostly from Britain. We might not be able to name any kings, but we are familiar with Queen Elizabeth and with the tabloids and tragedies surrounding her family. We would easily recognize the queen, yet many of us are unaware of what she really does from day to day and what her powers really are. Royalty is respected, it's part of the tradition, hut does it really do anything? Do we need it?
I wonder and worry that people perceive Christ's rule to be similar to the queen of England's rule. Do we view Christ as one surrounded with the art and beauty of a tradition that is more antique than active? Do we see this figure of salvation as hopelessly outdated and practically mute in these postmodern times?
If we stretch ourselves to think in royal terms, we remember that although "king" may be an unfamiliar symbol, it is a political term. Kings rule a particular piece of geography. They may rule over a particular ethnic group. They have subjects--they have "a people." What we declare on this last Sunday of the church year is: Christ has made of us a people.
Growing up in the South, I often heard the home folks ask of a sows girlfriend, "Who are her people?" They were fishing for two things: a family name and a location. "She's one of the Wingards from over Lexington way." Tiffs information could make one be embraced or shunned. I never heard "people" used outside of Family until I moved out of the overwhelmingly Christian South and lived in Chicago. Here "my people" was used for distinct ethnic groups and religious groups. And it was an unspoken truth that if any significant rubber ever hit any significant road, it was your people that mattered. A "people" was not a biological unit. They didn't necessarily share DNA but perhaps things more bonding: a common story, the foods and meals they are together, the experiences they endured and the hopes that endure through generations. I envied their sense of solidarity and identity. It's good to have a people.
Those who have been baptized into Christ Jesus are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand. Christ has made of us a people with his kingship. And that kingship is unique, unlike any earthly kingship that is bound by geographic borders. This kingdom is boundless. Christ's rule is not limited to a particular racial or national group. All are welcome, especially the chronically unwelcome ones. Christ reigns from the cross, we say. Christ rules, as many earthly rulers do, because he has waged battle and has been victorious. But Christ's enemies are sin, death and the devil, all defeated by Christ's death. In a kingdom of a lowly stable and an empty tomb, death birthed life.
To speak of kings and kingdoms, of subjects and peoples, requires a fair amount of translation for modern ears. Some, finding the translation too cumbersome, will opt for calling Jesus their CEO or therapist. But what will then be truly lost is not the title used, but the relationship implied.
To say Christ is king implies that we are subjects. The heart of this relationship is our dependence on a ruler who holds our lives in his hands. We do not choose a ruler as we elect a president, hire a CEO or contract with a therapist. We are Christ's people--we share the same eucharistic foods, we share the same story of faith, we stake our lives on the same hopes.
Here at the end of the church year, after living through another cycle of hearing the story of Jesus' life, of being taught by him in miracle and parable, we come to the coda of this hymn of praise. After another year of living our lives, burying our dead, baptizing our babies, marrying and divorcing, struggling and thriving, we bring all of the year's experiences to the climax of this day. We lay it all back at the feet of the one enthroned on the cross, giving thanks. It's great to be a people ruled in love and mercy.
Christ the King article
Here's a great article to read in preparation for this Sunday's sermon--Christ the King Sunday
Royal treatment - Living by the Word - Column
Christian Century, Nov 15, 2003 by Mary W. Anderson
ANOTHER CHURCH YEAR ends on November 23 with the festival of Christ the King. Although a few folks get jazzed over this festival, most of us need to be reminded that the church year is different from the calendar year, the academic year and the budget year.
On most minor and major church festivals, I remind my congregation how ancient these festivals are. I like to wow them with the vast number of centuries the church has been observing some of them. The festival of Christ the King spoils that plan. It was first introduced in 1925, and not until 1969 was it designated the festival for the last Sunday of the church year. Since I cannot wow them with a millennium's worth of tradition, I emphasize how the church continues to create traditions and make liturgical history.
It is odd to think that the 20th-century church developed a festival centering on Christ's image as king. In America we are as distanced from the image of "king" as we are from the image of "shepherd." Popular theology is more intrigued with the image of Jesus as CEO--a leadership role, to be sure, but hardly comparable to that of a king with a kingdom.
Our American brush with royalty comes mostly from Britain. We might not be able to name any kings, but we are familiar with Queen Elizabeth and with the tabloids and tragedies surrounding her family. We would easily recognize the queen, yet many of us are unaware of what she really does from day to day and what her powers really are. Royalty is respected, it's part of the tradition, hut does it really do anything? Do we need it?
I wonder and worry that people perceive Christ's rule to be similar to the queen of England's rule. Do we view Christ as one surrounded with the art and beauty of a tradition that is more antique than active? Do we see this figure of salvation as hopelessly outdated and practically mute in these postmodern times?
If we stretch ourselves to think in royal terms, we remember that although "king" may be an unfamiliar symbol, it is a political term. Kings rule a particular piece of geography. They may rule over a particular ethnic group. They have subjects--they have "a people." What we declare on this last Sunday of the church year is: Christ has made of us a people.
Growing up in the South, I often heard the home folks ask of a sows girlfriend, "Who are her people?" They were fishing for two things: a family name and a location. "She's one of the Wingards from over Lexington way." Tiffs information could make one be embraced or shunned. I never heard "people" used outside of Family until I moved out of the overwhelmingly Christian South and lived in Chicago. Here "my people" was used for distinct ethnic groups and religious groups. And it was an unspoken truth that if any significant rubber ever hit any significant road, it was your people that mattered. A "people" was not a biological unit. They didn't necessarily share DNA but perhaps things more bonding: a common story, the foods and meals they are together, the experiences they endured and the hopes that endure through generations. I envied their sense of solidarity and identity. It's good to have a people.
Those who have been baptized into Christ Jesus are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand. Christ has made of us a people with his kingship. And that kingship is unique, unlike any earthly kingship that is bound by geographic borders. This kingdom is boundless. Christ's rule is not limited to a particular racial or national group. All are welcome, especially the chronically unwelcome ones. Christ reigns from the cross, we say. Christ rules, as many earthly rulers do, because he has waged battle and has been victorious. But Christ's enemies are sin, death and the devil, all defeated by Christ's death. In a kingdom of a lowly stable and an empty tomb, death birthed life.
To speak of kings and kingdoms, of subjects and peoples, requires a fair amount of translation for modern ears. Some, finding the translation too cumbersome, will opt for calling Jesus their CEO or therapist. But what will then be truly lost is not the title used, but the relationship implied.
To say Christ is king implies that we are subjects. The heart of this relationship is our dependence on a ruler who holds our lives in his hands. We do not choose a ruler as we elect a president, hire a CEO or contract with a therapist. We are Christ's people--we share the same eucharistic foods, we share the same story of faith, we stake our lives on the same hopes.
Here at the end of the church year, after living through another cycle of hearing the story of Jesus' life, of being taught by him in miracle and parable, we come to the coda of this hymn of praise. After another year of living our lives, burying our dead, baptizing our babies, marrying and divorcing, struggling and thriving, we bring all of the year's experiences to the climax of this day. We lay it all back at the feet of the one enthroned on the cross, giving thanks. It's great to be a people ruled in love and mercy.
Royal treatment - Living by the Word - Column
Christian Century, Nov 15, 2003 by Mary W. Anderson
ANOTHER CHURCH YEAR ends on November 23 with the festival of Christ the King. Although a few folks get jazzed over this festival, most of us need to be reminded that the church year is different from the calendar year, the academic year and the budget year.
On most minor and major church festivals, I remind my congregation how ancient these festivals are. I like to wow them with the vast number of centuries the church has been observing some of them. The festival of Christ the King spoils that plan. It was first introduced in 1925, and not until 1969 was it designated the festival for the last Sunday of the church year. Since I cannot wow them with a millennium's worth of tradition, I emphasize how the church continues to create traditions and make liturgical history.
It is odd to think that the 20th-century church developed a festival centering on Christ's image as king. In America we are as distanced from the image of "king" as we are from the image of "shepherd." Popular theology is more intrigued with the image of Jesus as CEO--a leadership role, to be sure, but hardly comparable to that of a king with a kingdom.
Our American brush with royalty comes mostly from Britain. We might not be able to name any kings, but we are familiar with Queen Elizabeth and with the tabloids and tragedies surrounding her family. We would easily recognize the queen, yet many of us are unaware of what she really does from day to day and what her powers really are. Royalty is respected, it's part of the tradition, hut does it really do anything? Do we need it?
I wonder and worry that people perceive Christ's rule to be similar to the queen of England's rule. Do we view Christ as one surrounded with the art and beauty of a tradition that is more antique than active? Do we see this figure of salvation as hopelessly outdated and practically mute in these postmodern times?
If we stretch ourselves to think in royal terms, we remember that although "king" may be an unfamiliar symbol, it is a political term. Kings rule a particular piece of geography. They may rule over a particular ethnic group. They have subjects--they have "a people." What we declare on this last Sunday of the church year is: Christ has made of us a people.
Growing up in the South, I often heard the home folks ask of a sows girlfriend, "Who are her people?" They were fishing for two things: a family name and a location. "She's one of the Wingards from over Lexington way." Tiffs information could make one be embraced or shunned. I never heard "people" used outside of Family until I moved out of the overwhelmingly Christian South and lived in Chicago. Here "my people" was used for distinct ethnic groups and religious groups. And it was an unspoken truth that if any significant rubber ever hit any significant road, it was your people that mattered. A "people" was not a biological unit. They didn't necessarily share DNA but perhaps things more bonding: a common story, the foods and meals they are together, the experiences they endured and the hopes that endure through generations. I envied their sense of solidarity and identity. It's good to have a people.
Those who have been baptized into Christ Jesus are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand. Christ has made of us a people with his kingship. And that kingship is unique, unlike any earthly kingship that is bound by geographic borders. This kingdom is boundless. Christ's rule is not limited to a particular racial or national group. All are welcome, especially the chronically unwelcome ones. Christ reigns from the cross, we say. Christ rules, as many earthly rulers do, because he has waged battle and has been victorious. But Christ's enemies are sin, death and the devil, all defeated by Christ's death. In a kingdom of a lowly stable and an empty tomb, death birthed life.
To speak of kings and kingdoms, of subjects and peoples, requires a fair amount of translation for modern ears. Some, finding the translation too cumbersome, will opt for calling Jesus their CEO or therapist. But what will then be truly lost is not the title used, but the relationship implied.
To say Christ is king implies that we are subjects. The heart of this relationship is our dependence on a ruler who holds our lives in his hands. We do not choose a ruler as we elect a president, hire a CEO or contract with a therapist. We are Christ's people--we share the same eucharistic foods, we share the same story of faith, we stake our lives on the same hopes.
Here at the end of the church year, after living through another cycle of hearing the story of Jesus' life, of being taught by him in miracle and parable, we come to the coda of this hymn of praise. After another year of living our lives, burying our dead, baptizing our babies, marrying and divorcing, struggling and thriving, we bring all of the year's experiences to the climax of this day. We lay it all back at the feet of the one enthroned on the cross, giving thanks. It's great to be a people ruled in love and mercy.
Christmas Open House at the Parsonage
save the date! From 2-4pm on Saturday Dec. 9, Lara and Wesley and Nathan will host a Christmas party for the parish and friends. Drop by any time in that two hour span to have some cider, other goodies, and to see how we have made your pasronage our home for the holidays!
Monday, November 20, 2006
Thanksgiving Sermon: "Thanksliving"
Scriptures:
Deuteronomy 8: 7-18
2 Corinthians: 9: 6-15
What does it mean to live our thankfulness? The passage we heard from the book of Deuteronomy is the witness to a God who delights in our delight. When we receive the gifts of God with a joyful and thankful heart, God is propelled forward with us—charged up by our gratitude. When we fail to live with thanks and joyfulness in our hearts, when we instead turn inward and live in complaints or dissatisfaction, God’s activity is veiled from our eyes. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus says “to those who have much, much more will be given. And to those who have nothing, what they have will be taken away and given to those who have much.” This is not about material possessions, it is about living with joy and thankfulness in our hearts. When we share our thanksgiving with others, it has a way of multiplying and spreading. When we do nothing but complain and act callous with one another, we isolate ourselves and descend into “the outer darkness” of despair and lonliness. Deuteronomy tells us of the end of the journey of Israel out of exile and into the promised land. At the end of the 40 years of wandering, they come to the cusp of a new era in their collective history. These people who have been on such a journey together have known God’s provision during the time they were in the desert, they have known God’s salvation from slavery. Now God asks them to be thankful in the bounty they are about to receive. Likewise, we are at the end of a journey together. This is the second to last Sunday of the Christian year. We stand at the cusp of Advent, waiting for the bounty which God will reveal in the Birth of Christ. This is a time to pause and lift up our thanks to God.Though God leads us toward abundance and a bountiful life, the good life can cause us to forget about God and start thinking that we provide for ourselves. We have seen in the industrialized world a dramatic exodus from the Church. In parts of the world where there is much trouble and strife, the church is strong. God promises Israel a land flowing with milk and honey, but God knows that the ingredients are there for amnesia. One reason the Jews celebrate Passover every year is to prevent that amnesia. Keeping God’s commandments prevents us from forgetting about God. By living thanks, we pattern our minds and hearts to dwell in the grace of God. If we simply accept the good without giving thanks, amnesia sets in and we begin to believe in another God. We begin to believe in the God who says we deserve what we have because we have worked for it. We begin to serve that God by taking without gratitude, by spending without thought of others, by living the “looking out for #1” life. When we forget to live thanks, we forget that God is God and that we are not. God saves us from that trap by commanding us to remember—to remember who we were and the journey we have taken as a people. To remember that the bounty we share is a gift from God. IN the sharing of thanks, we remind each other of our gift. As Paul says in the second letter to the Corinthians, “the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.” The more thanks we sow, the more thanks we will reap. If we live with a joyful and thankful heart, we will continue to live in joy. The generosity which is an outpouring of gratitude will multiply our gratitude. If we don’t feel thankful, then we probably need to give more. If we don’t feel a warm sense of gratitude when we give, we are probably too attached to our things and maybe we have the idea that we deserve what we have. Paul says, “Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” Thanksgiving is about Thanks and it is about Giving. Sharing our thanks together is an “overflowing of Thanksgiving to God.” ThanksLiving is making this openness to God our lifestyle, our permanent dwelling place. Thanks-Living is making our heart an altar, and bringing the light of Christ to that altar. Have you noticed that oftentimes, it is easier to generate a sense of collective victimization than collective joyfulness? When we get together with people we may not know, sometimes we bridge the gap of unfamiliarity by gathering around the things we despise. We pump ourselves up on our shared troubles or worries or whatever it is that unites us negatively. Politicians play on this human condition and build a following by talking about the negative attributes of the other candidate rather than the positive attributes of themselves. Despite what pollsters have said is a general public disdain for “mudslinging” or “attack ads,” politicians continue to utilize this form of campaigning because they know it works. Yes, it is our temptation to rally around our shared dislikes, complaints, and feelings of victimization. What would it be like to identify with one another by our thankfulness? What if, instead of uniting around our shared dislikes, we instead found a common bond in our shared gratitude? This, I think is the community we are called to form under the banner, “Christianity.” When we live with thankfulness in our hearts and share that thankfulness with others, the things we have to be thankful for seem to multiply. Let’s take a moment to experiment with this. We’re a community of believers, and I would hope that we have a lot to be thankful for, yet it is sometimes easier to think about our prayers of need or struggles than our prayers of thanksgiving. Let me be the first to share with you some things I praise God for.I’m thankful for…….My wife Lara being a supportive and challenging partner in marriage. My son Wesley living with such delight and wonder at the world—it helps me live with delight and wonder. My sister being a bold person who is seeking a career which she will be passionate about. I’m thankful for my parents inspiring me to follow my heart. For watching football games with my son. I’m thankful for green hills turning red and gold and orange and yellow. For barbecuing on my front porch. For the faithful witness of a great co-worker. For a community of believers who have been receptive to things I say in this pulpit that stir my heart—what a blessing it is to hear that something you have said has made a difference to someone else! Take a moment and write some things you’re thankful for. Try to be specific about it. Instead of just saying, “I’m thankful for my wife.” Write on that card what it is that makes you so thankful for your wife. Is it her cooking? What is it about her cooking? Do you like the way she puts more chocolate chips in cookies than the recipe calls for? Well write that! Don’t just write, “I’m thankful for deer hunting season,” what is it about deer hunting season that you love? Spending time with family in the woods? Being away from church on Sundays? Write that! Try to be as particular as you can.Now, because we are a body, because we are a congregation who can be strengthened by shared joys, I want you to find someone here in the congregation you’d like to give that card to. Thanksgiving is a sharing. We as a community of believers have to get real with each other and share our gratitude with one another. This is “living” thanks. We share our praise and thanksgiving together as a body of believers. Because the Living Christ is here among us when we gather together, our shared thanks in that Living Christ elevates our thanksgiving to God’s holy throne. Share with someone you may have known for less than 5 years. Share with someone you may have had a disagreement with in the past. It is sharing our thanks together which unites us, so let’s strengthen that “blessed tie that binds.” Take the next couple minutes to stand up and find someone to share your list with. Don’t take a list from more than one person, I want everyone here to have a list from someone else. As you sit around the Thanksgiving table this week with your friends and family, I hope that you might take a moment to really be stop and consider what we are doing. We’re not just stuffing ourselves silly with turkey and scalloped potatoes and green bean casserole. We’re not just napping on the couch while NFL teams clash in throwback uniforms. We are carrying on a great tradition. Gathering around the table of fellowship with our family is a true act of worship. God opens to us the treasure of gratitude. By giving thanks, by living thanks, we glorify God and we enhance our own existence. We can either toot our own horn by going through life without a grateful heart, or we can listen to the symphony of thanksgiving. God does not just demand thankfulness because God has a fragile ego. God invites us into a dance by setting a pattern of gratitude.
Deuteronomy 8: 7-18
2 Corinthians: 9: 6-15
What does it mean to live our thankfulness? The passage we heard from the book of Deuteronomy is the witness to a God who delights in our delight. When we receive the gifts of God with a joyful and thankful heart, God is propelled forward with us—charged up by our gratitude. When we fail to live with thanks and joyfulness in our hearts, when we instead turn inward and live in complaints or dissatisfaction, God’s activity is veiled from our eyes. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus says “to those who have much, much more will be given. And to those who have nothing, what they have will be taken away and given to those who have much.” This is not about material possessions, it is about living with joy and thankfulness in our hearts. When we share our thanksgiving with others, it has a way of multiplying and spreading. When we do nothing but complain and act callous with one another, we isolate ourselves and descend into “the outer darkness” of despair and lonliness. Deuteronomy tells us of the end of the journey of Israel out of exile and into the promised land. At the end of the 40 years of wandering, they come to the cusp of a new era in their collective history. These people who have been on such a journey together have known God’s provision during the time they were in the desert, they have known God’s salvation from slavery. Now God asks them to be thankful in the bounty they are about to receive. Likewise, we are at the end of a journey together. This is the second to last Sunday of the Christian year. We stand at the cusp of Advent, waiting for the bounty which God will reveal in the Birth of Christ. This is a time to pause and lift up our thanks to God.Though God leads us toward abundance and a bountiful life, the good life can cause us to forget about God and start thinking that we provide for ourselves. We have seen in the industrialized world a dramatic exodus from the Church. In parts of the world where there is much trouble and strife, the church is strong. God promises Israel a land flowing with milk and honey, but God knows that the ingredients are there for amnesia. One reason the Jews celebrate Passover every year is to prevent that amnesia. Keeping God’s commandments prevents us from forgetting about God. By living thanks, we pattern our minds and hearts to dwell in the grace of God. If we simply accept the good without giving thanks, amnesia sets in and we begin to believe in another God. We begin to believe in the God who says we deserve what we have because we have worked for it. We begin to serve that God by taking without gratitude, by spending without thought of others, by living the “looking out for #1” life. When we forget to live thanks, we forget that God is God and that we are not. God saves us from that trap by commanding us to remember—to remember who we were and the journey we have taken as a people. To remember that the bounty we share is a gift from God. IN the sharing of thanks, we remind each other of our gift. As Paul says in the second letter to the Corinthians, “the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.” The more thanks we sow, the more thanks we will reap. If we live with a joyful and thankful heart, we will continue to live in joy. The generosity which is an outpouring of gratitude will multiply our gratitude. If we don’t feel thankful, then we probably need to give more. If we don’t feel a warm sense of gratitude when we give, we are probably too attached to our things and maybe we have the idea that we deserve what we have. Paul says, “Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” Thanksgiving is about Thanks and it is about Giving. Sharing our thanks together is an “overflowing of Thanksgiving to God.” ThanksLiving is making this openness to God our lifestyle, our permanent dwelling place. Thanks-Living is making our heart an altar, and bringing the light of Christ to that altar. Have you noticed that oftentimes, it is easier to generate a sense of collective victimization than collective joyfulness? When we get together with people we may not know, sometimes we bridge the gap of unfamiliarity by gathering around the things we despise. We pump ourselves up on our shared troubles or worries or whatever it is that unites us negatively. Politicians play on this human condition and build a following by talking about the negative attributes of the other candidate rather than the positive attributes of themselves. Despite what pollsters have said is a general public disdain for “mudslinging” or “attack ads,” politicians continue to utilize this form of campaigning because they know it works. Yes, it is our temptation to rally around our shared dislikes, complaints, and feelings of victimization. What would it be like to identify with one another by our thankfulness? What if, instead of uniting around our shared dislikes, we instead found a common bond in our shared gratitude? This, I think is the community we are called to form under the banner, “Christianity.” When we live with thankfulness in our hearts and share that thankfulness with others, the things we have to be thankful for seem to multiply. Let’s take a moment to experiment with this. We’re a community of believers, and I would hope that we have a lot to be thankful for, yet it is sometimes easier to think about our prayers of need or struggles than our prayers of thanksgiving. Let me be the first to share with you some things I praise God for.I’m thankful for…….My wife Lara being a supportive and challenging partner in marriage. My son Wesley living with such delight and wonder at the world—it helps me live with delight and wonder. My sister being a bold person who is seeking a career which she will be passionate about. I’m thankful for my parents inspiring me to follow my heart. For watching football games with my son. I’m thankful for green hills turning red and gold and orange and yellow. For barbecuing on my front porch. For the faithful witness of a great co-worker. For a community of believers who have been receptive to things I say in this pulpit that stir my heart—what a blessing it is to hear that something you have said has made a difference to someone else! Take a moment and write some things you’re thankful for. Try to be specific about it. Instead of just saying, “I’m thankful for my wife.” Write on that card what it is that makes you so thankful for your wife. Is it her cooking? What is it about her cooking? Do you like the way she puts more chocolate chips in cookies than the recipe calls for? Well write that! Don’t just write, “I’m thankful for deer hunting season,” what is it about deer hunting season that you love? Spending time with family in the woods? Being away from church on Sundays? Write that! Try to be as particular as you can.Now, because we are a body, because we are a congregation who can be strengthened by shared joys, I want you to find someone here in the congregation you’d like to give that card to. Thanksgiving is a sharing. We as a community of believers have to get real with each other and share our gratitude with one another. This is “living” thanks. We share our praise and thanksgiving together as a body of believers. Because the Living Christ is here among us when we gather together, our shared thanks in that Living Christ elevates our thanksgiving to God’s holy throne. Share with someone you may have known for less than 5 years. Share with someone you may have had a disagreement with in the past. It is sharing our thanks together which unites us, so let’s strengthen that “blessed tie that binds.” Take the next couple minutes to stand up and find someone to share your list with. Don’t take a list from more than one person, I want everyone here to have a list from someone else. As you sit around the Thanksgiving table this week with your friends and family, I hope that you might take a moment to really be stop and consider what we are doing. We’re not just stuffing ourselves silly with turkey and scalloped potatoes and green bean casserole. We’re not just napping on the couch while NFL teams clash in throwback uniforms. We are carrying on a great tradition. Gathering around the table of fellowship with our family is a true act of worship. God opens to us the treasure of gratitude. By giving thanks, by living thanks, we glorify God and we enhance our own existence. We can either toot our own horn by going through life without a grateful heart, or we can listen to the symphony of thanksgiving. God does not just demand thankfulness because God has a fragile ego. God invites us into a dance by setting a pattern of gratitude.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Nov. 12 Sermon--Two Pennies
Scriptures:
1 Kings 17: 8-16
Mark 12: 38-44
For some reason, this scripture reminds me of the time when I was in high school Sunday school class in Arkadelphia, when my teacher, Rex Holbrook, opened up his wallet and distributed all he had among each of us youth. I remember looking around the table in wide eyed disbelief as we at first were dumbfounded, then trying to protest. “No, no, you can’t do that!” Rex, I think I remember, had been teaching us about the parable of the talents—when the landowner distributed his wealth among the workers and promised to return. What I remember taking away from that lesson was that all that we are given is a gift, and we have the honor and privilege to share those gifts with others.
I Googled Rex to find out how he was doing. In my Google results, I came across a newsletter that said that his dad had recently passed away in August. He was still living in Arkadelphia, so I found his number and decided to give him a call. I hadn’t talked to him in 10 or more years!
I told him that the lesson he had taught that day had made a deep imprint on me, and that I would be sharing it in a sermon this week. He was delighted to hear from me and remarked that he had just been thinking the other day that most of us (his students) were now the age that he had been when he taught that class.
So why did this scripture remind me of that particular Sunday school lesson more than 10 years ago? I suppose it did because I remember the look in Rex’s eye when he handed me and every other student in that class of 7 or 10 youth a $20 bill. It was a look of complete trust and hope. It was unsettling—especially to a teenager! I imagine it was the same look in the eyes of the widows whom we heard about in today’s scriptures.
The widow that gives hospitality to Elijah and the widow whom Jesus observes giving money to the temple are linked across the centuries—both give what little they have and are blessed by prophets—both also are connected from across the millennia to us today.
Widows in the times of Elijah later in Jesus’ time had a difficult situation—they were reliant upon male children or brothers or other family members for their provision. This is why the widow who feeds Elijah was justifiably concerned that her hospitality of Elijah not interfere with her provision for her son. That son was the key to the survival of the whole family. Some Biblical scholars have reckoned that the reason Jesus says the scribes “devoured widows homes” was because there were social customs in which the scribes were charged with providing for the widows, or held a widow’s belongings in trust if there were no other males to look after finances. In any case, it is safe to say that widows had nothing, especially in comparison to the rich who gave large donations to the temple treasury. The priests and scribes used the temple treasury to provide for a lavish lifestyle, while the widows suffered.
The end result is that the temple authorities came to surround themselves in comfort and distractions and the widow who gave everything was completely vulnerable. It wasn’t as though the two pittance made the difference to the woman between poverty and sustenance though, there was essentially no difference between the widow keeping the two pennies and putting them in the treasury. The difference was in the posture of giving versus the posture of hoarding.
You see, Jesus’ lesson is that in the act of giving, the widow puts her complete trust in God’s mercy and grace. Really, it makes no difference if it is 2 pennies or 2 million pennies—all will eventually disintegrate into dust—our souls on the other hand, will be gathered in the treasury of heaven or the treasury of hell! Our spiritual selves are affected by giving—when we turn things over to the will and purpose of God, we place ourselves in the complete trust of God. If we grasp, hold on to, become preoccupied with money or anything other than God—we will sink.
Picture a great sailboat loaded down with treasure—when the boat needs to get somewhere quick and there is not much of a breeze, what does the captain shout? Lighten the load! Treasure overboard! It is then that the wind is able to pull the ship along where the captain wants to go. Belongings weigh us down, they create concerns. This is why Jesus says, “do not be concerned with what you will wear, or what you will eat.” Consider the ravens—they neither toil nor reap, but are fed by their father in Heaven. Consider the lilies; they neither spin nor clothe themselves, yet even Solomon in all his splendor could not match the beauty of one of them.
This is a difficult lesson for us to hear! It is hard for us to give up our belongings—they are comfortable, they bring us security and safety. Perhaps one way to reorient ourselves and our lives is to cultivate a different attitude toward our belongings.
What I hear most often from those who have lost their homes in a fire is that they find out that all they really cared about were the photo albums. What does that tell us?! It says to me that even though we spend so much time and stress and effort worrying about money and possessions, deep down in our heart of hearts what we are really concerned about is relationship! Lord, give us a sense of these priorities in our daily lives! God, our Father and our friend, help us value our relationship with you as much as you value it!
Mary Anderson, a pastor in Columbia, SC wrote in an article in Christian Century, “The widow wasn't dependent on her money or her status in life; she had none of these. She was dependent on God and her neighbor for everything. She didn't have two feet to stand on, she didn't have bootstraps to pull up. She was totally dependent—and that's what Jesus pulls out of her story like a pearl of great price. This is what we are to be like before God—dependent on nothing but the grace of God. We are to be people without any resources except the riches of God's mercy.
The issue is not how much we have in the bank, but what that money is for us. Is it our heart, our security, our source of power, or is it a tool for our stewardship? Are we dependent on our money to give us all we want and need from life, or are we dependent on God to make us rich? If you follow me, Jesus teaches, you will walk in the way of the widow. Live lives that show in everything you do and say that you are dependent on God for all you have and all you are.”
This relationship with God is the model that Jesus set before us with his life. It is the radical trust, hope, and attention on God’s presence that make up a life well lived. When our lives are crowded with things—distractions that tend to displace our relationship with God to the sidelines, Jesus says, “it becomes harder to enter the kingdom of God than it is for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle.” We need to pay attention to the heroes of faith that Jesus points out, and whom are pointed to in the scriptures of our spiritual ancestors. The widows in both of these stories lived Christ like lives—they put their trust in God instead of in their material possessions. They gave when common sense might have told them to hoard. Jesus, too, gave when common sense would have told him to keep for himself. Paul tells the Phillipeans that “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross. 9Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, 10so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
Here after all, was a man who was literally infused with the one and only God, but who came to earth as a poor man, a rambling healer who had nothing to call his own, nowhere to rest his head or to rest. How he must’ve felt like that widow when he was nailed to the cross—hoping this somewhat anonymous life given in totality would have some bearing on the kingdom. We are here because he did—and we look to him to guide our way. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
1 Kings 17: 8-16
Mark 12: 38-44
For some reason, this scripture reminds me of the time when I was in high school Sunday school class in Arkadelphia, when my teacher, Rex Holbrook, opened up his wallet and distributed all he had among each of us youth. I remember looking around the table in wide eyed disbelief as we at first were dumbfounded, then trying to protest. “No, no, you can’t do that!” Rex, I think I remember, had been teaching us about the parable of the talents—when the landowner distributed his wealth among the workers and promised to return. What I remember taking away from that lesson was that all that we are given is a gift, and we have the honor and privilege to share those gifts with others.
I Googled Rex to find out how he was doing. In my Google results, I came across a newsletter that said that his dad had recently passed away in August. He was still living in Arkadelphia, so I found his number and decided to give him a call. I hadn’t talked to him in 10 or more years!
I told him that the lesson he had taught that day had made a deep imprint on me, and that I would be sharing it in a sermon this week. He was delighted to hear from me and remarked that he had just been thinking the other day that most of us (his students) were now the age that he had been when he taught that class.
So why did this scripture remind me of that particular Sunday school lesson more than 10 years ago? I suppose it did because I remember the look in Rex’s eye when he handed me and every other student in that class of 7 or 10 youth a $20 bill. It was a look of complete trust and hope. It was unsettling—especially to a teenager! I imagine it was the same look in the eyes of the widows whom we heard about in today’s scriptures.
The widow that gives hospitality to Elijah and the widow whom Jesus observes giving money to the temple are linked across the centuries—both give what little they have and are blessed by prophets—both also are connected from across the millennia to us today.
Widows in the times of Elijah later in Jesus’ time had a difficult situation—they were reliant upon male children or brothers or other family members for their provision. This is why the widow who feeds Elijah was justifiably concerned that her hospitality of Elijah not interfere with her provision for her son. That son was the key to the survival of the whole family. Some Biblical scholars have reckoned that the reason Jesus says the scribes “devoured widows homes” was because there were social customs in which the scribes were charged with providing for the widows, or held a widow’s belongings in trust if there were no other males to look after finances. In any case, it is safe to say that widows had nothing, especially in comparison to the rich who gave large donations to the temple treasury. The priests and scribes used the temple treasury to provide for a lavish lifestyle, while the widows suffered.
The end result is that the temple authorities came to surround themselves in comfort and distractions and the widow who gave everything was completely vulnerable. It wasn’t as though the two pittance made the difference to the woman between poverty and sustenance though, there was essentially no difference between the widow keeping the two pennies and putting them in the treasury. The difference was in the posture of giving versus the posture of hoarding.
You see, Jesus’ lesson is that in the act of giving, the widow puts her complete trust in God’s mercy and grace. Really, it makes no difference if it is 2 pennies or 2 million pennies—all will eventually disintegrate into dust—our souls on the other hand, will be gathered in the treasury of heaven or the treasury of hell! Our spiritual selves are affected by giving—when we turn things over to the will and purpose of God, we place ourselves in the complete trust of God. If we grasp, hold on to, become preoccupied with money or anything other than God—we will sink.
Picture a great sailboat loaded down with treasure—when the boat needs to get somewhere quick and there is not much of a breeze, what does the captain shout? Lighten the load! Treasure overboard! It is then that the wind is able to pull the ship along where the captain wants to go. Belongings weigh us down, they create concerns. This is why Jesus says, “do not be concerned with what you will wear, or what you will eat.” Consider the ravens—they neither toil nor reap, but are fed by their father in Heaven. Consider the lilies; they neither spin nor clothe themselves, yet even Solomon in all his splendor could not match the beauty of one of them.
This is a difficult lesson for us to hear! It is hard for us to give up our belongings—they are comfortable, they bring us security and safety. Perhaps one way to reorient ourselves and our lives is to cultivate a different attitude toward our belongings.
What I hear most often from those who have lost their homes in a fire is that they find out that all they really cared about were the photo albums. What does that tell us?! It says to me that even though we spend so much time and stress and effort worrying about money and possessions, deep down in our heart of hearts what we are really concerned about is relationship! Lord, give us a sense of these priorities in our daily lives! God, our Father and our friend, help us value our relationship with you as much as you value it!
Mary Anderson, a pastor in Columbia, SC wrote in an article in Christian Century, “The widow wasn't dependent on her money or her status in life; she had none of these. She was dependent on God and her neighbor for everything. She didn't have two feet to stand on, she didn't have bootstraps to pull up. She was totally dependent—and that's what Jesus pulls out of her story like a pearl of great price. This is what we are to be like before God—dependent on nothing but the grace of God. We are to be people without any resources except the riches of God's mercy.
The issue is not how much we have in the bank, but what that money is for us. Is it our heart, our security, our source of power, or is it a tool for our stewardship? Are we dependent on our money to give us all we want and need from life, or are we dependent on God to make us rich? If you follow me, Jesus teaches, you will walk in the way of the widow. Live lives that show in everything you do and say that you are dependent on God for all you have and all you are.”
This relationship with God is the model that Jesus set before us with his life. It is the radical trust, hope, and attention on God’s presence that make up a life well lived. When our lives are crowded with things—distractions that tend to displace our relationship with God to the sidelines, Jesus says, “it becomes harder to enter the kingdom of God than it is for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle.” We need to pay attention to the heroes of faith that Jesus points out, and whom are pointed to in the scriptures of our spiritual ancestors. The widows in both of these stories lived Christ like lives—they put their trust in God instead of in their material possessions. They gave when common sense might have told them to hoard. Jesus, too, gave when common sense would have told him to keep for himself. Paul tells the Phillipeans that “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross. 9Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, 10so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
Here after all, was a man who was literally infused with the one and only God, but who came to earth as a poor man, a rambling healer who had nothing to call his own, nowhere to rest his head or to rest. How he must’ve felt like that widow when he was nailed to the cross—hoping this somewhat anonymous life given in totality would have some bearing on the kingdom. We are here because he did—and we look to him to guide our way. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
All Saints day sermon
Scriptures
Isaiah 25: 6-9
John 11: 32-44
Our scriptures today are wonderful and complex. In our Gospel lesson we heard of Jesus’ most significant miracle because he demonstrated his power over death itself. This miracle was the raising of Lazarus. When I think of this scripture, I have in my mind the images from a film that has nurtured my faith—so I’d like to share those images with you. They come from a film that stirred up a lot of controversy and in turn was overlooked by much of the Christian community: The Last Temptation of Christ.
………………….
There are several symbolic acts in this scene that I think are very powerful testimonies of Christ’s identity for us as the church. They are powerful because like the rest of the novel and the film adaptation, they speak powerfully to the humanness of our savior Jesus Christ. First, Jesus stands at the entrance to the tomb and thrusts his hands through the invisible barrier between the outside of the tomb, where living is done, and the inside of the tomb—the domain of death. It is a powerful visual symbol for us for the identity of Christ who defeats death. He has set the stage for what follows—a description of how death is defeated by Christ. After Jesus issues his command into the tomb, first a whisper, then appealing to the prophets and heroes of his faith, then finally with a command coming from his own heart, he kneels in prayer at the tomb for what seems to be a while.
He is startled when the rotting hand of Lazarus reaches up for him. Pensive as he contemplates the magnitude of his actions, Jesus then reaches his hand into the tomb. Death’s hand at first re-acquaints itself with the living, then with desperation grasps hold and pulls Jesus into the tomb with him. For me, these are powerful and imaginative additions to the story we have in our scriptures. They speak to Jesus’ identity because they describe for us how Jesus came to defeat death for all of us.
God, in Jesus Christ, defeated death by taking it on himself. By being pulled into the tomb to experience all that we experience….and then—embracing us even still. Did you notice that? Instead of turning away in fear and repulsion to the corpse that is pulling him in, Jesus embraces Lazarus in the tomb and pulls him back into the living! Jesus gives us new life because Jesus embraces us and pulls us out of our tombs and into life again. In life and in death and in life beyond death, we never leave the loving embrace of our savior.
Fortunately for us Methodists, most of the images of the life to come in the Scriptures are feasts. God knows we Methodists like to eat! Isaiah paints the picture of rich food, well aged wines—white and red! And rich food filled with marrow—YUM! As we all sit at the table with the rest of the human family, God provides the dinner entertainment—a great shroud or sheet symbolizes our death—it is as if the table is set on it as the tablecloth. Like a magician, God strips the tablecloth from under the feast without a glass of that well aged wine spilling on the table. Then, he takes the shroud and swallows it. We all applaud. He wipes away every tear and fills our hearts with gladness—he wipes disgrace from the ends of the earth.
This week we celebrate the continual life of those saints who have gone before us. It is All Saint’s Day this week. The first of November was in the old calendar the beginning of the year. The harvest came to completion and great feasts were held. During these feasts, those who had passed away in the previous year were uplifted, celebrated, and preserved in memory.
It is also in the tradition of this church a youth Sunday, when young people are lifted up, celebrated, and involved in the worship leadership of this congregation. It occurred to me that it would be greatly symbolic for our youth to lead the congregation in its remembrance of its departed. It is symbolic to me because God holds us as precious in our infancy, in the early stages of our walk of faith, all through our lives to our deaths and finally beyond our death. God’s power and presence is made most manifest when we worship as a family—old and young, vibrant and tired. We worship a God who sets a feast for all. And our worship is the participation in that feast of life.
During our great thanksgiving today, we will lift up the names of those who have gone on to the next life during this past year. After each name is read, the bell will toll. A bell makes sound because it is hollow in the middle. The hammer strikes the inside of the bell, and then the sound reverberates out of the hollow opening, emitting vibrations in the air that continue to issue forth even after the hammer has struck.
Our lives have the same effect on the world around us. If our whole lives are symbolized by that brief strike of the hammer against the bell, then the meaning and influence that our lives bear on those around us echoes on long after that original strike of the hammer. The Good News of our Scriptures is that in the ear of God, that ringing never stops. We are loved to the extent that we are resurrected into a new life in the presence of our Maker.
Imagine a Savior who loves us so much that he embraces us even if we are repulsive to the world around us. Imagine that he personally pulls every one of us out of our tombs of self-doubt and sin and death and into new life in the light. Imagine that God desires our fellowship like a great dinner host that gathers all at a common table. Can you see those pictures? You don’t have to imagine—because that is what God is—that is indeed what Christ has done for us, and that is the reality that we celebrate as we come to the table of communion.
Because the reverberations of life are still fresh in our ears, and we are shaped not only by those who are members of this congregation but also those whom we know in other walks of life, I would invite you to name aloud others who have passed away in the recent past after we name aloud those who have touched your lives as well.
Isaiah 25: 6-9
John 11: 32-44
Our scriptures today are wonderful and complex. In our Gospel lesson we heard of Jesus’ most significant miracle because he demonstrated his power over death itself. This miracle was the raising of Lazarus. When I think of this scripture, I have in my mind the images from a film that has nurtured my faith—so I’d like to share those images with you. They come from a film that stirred up a lot of controversy and in turn was overlooked by much of the Christian community: The Last Temptation of Christ.
………………….
There are several symbolic acts in this scene that I think are very powerful testimonies of Christ’s identity for us as the church. They are powerful because like the rest of the novel and the film adaptation, they speak powerfully to the humanness of our savior Jesus Christ. First, Jesus stands at the entrance to the tomb and thrusts his hands through the invisible barrier between the outside of the tomb, where living is done, and the inside of the tomb—the domain of death. It is a powerful visual symbol for us for the identity of Christ who defeats death. He has set the stage for what follows—a description of how death is defeated by Christ. After Jesus issues his command into the tomb, first a whisper, then appealing to the prophets and heroes of his faith, then finally with a command coming from his own heart, he kneels in prayer at the tomb for what seems to be a while.
He is startled when the rotting hand of Lazarus reaches up for him. Pensive as he contemplates the magnitude of his actions, Jesus then reaches his hand into the tomb. Death’s hand at first re-acquaints itself with the living, then with desperation grasps hold and pulls Jesus into the tomb with him. For me, these are powerful and imaginative additions to the story we have in our scriptures. They speak to Jesus’ identity because they describe for us how Jesus came to defeat death for all of us.
God, in Jesus Christ, defeated death by taking it on himself. By being pulled into the tomb to experience all that we experience….and then—embracing us even still. Did you notice that? Instead of turning away in fear and repulsion to the corpse that is pulling him in, Jesus embraces Lazarus in the tomb and pulls him back into the living! Jesus gives us new life because Jesus embraces us and pulls us out of our tombs and into life again. In life and in death and in life beyond death, we never leave the loving embrace of our savior.
Fortunately for us Methodists, most of the images of the life to come in the Scriptures are feasts. God knows we Methodists like to eat! Isaiah paints the picture of rich food, well aged wines—white and red! And rich food filled with marrow—YUM! As we all sit at the table with the rest of the human family, God provides the dinner entertainment—a great shroud or sheet symbolizes our death—it is as if the table is set on it as the tablecloth. Like a magician, God strips the tablecloth from under the feast without a glass of that well aged wine spilling on the table. Then, he takes the shroud and swallows it. We all applaud. He wipes away every tear and fills our hearts with gladness—he wipes disgrace from the ends of the earth.
This week we celebrate the continual life of those saints who have gone before us. It is All Saint’s Day this week. The first of November was in the old calendar the beginning of the year. The harvest came to completion and great feasts were held. During these feasts, those who had passed away in the previous year were uplifted, celebrated, and preserved in memory.
It is also in the tradition of this church a youth Sunday, when young people are lifted up, celebrated, and involved in the worship leadership of this congregation. It occurred to me that it would be greatly symbolic for our youth to lead the congregation in its remembrance of its departed. It is symbolic to me because God holds us as precious in our infancy, in the early stages of our walk of faith, all through our lives to our deaths and finally beyond our death. God’s power and presence is made most manifest when we worship as a family—old and young, vibrant and tired. We worship a God who sets a feast for all. And our worship is the participation in that feast of life.
During our great thanksgiving today, we will lift up the names of those who have gone on to the next life during this past year. After each name is read, the bell will toll. A bell makes sound because it is hollow in the middle. The hammer strikes the inside of the bell, and then the sound reverberates out of the hollow opening, emitting vibrations in the air that continue to issue forth even after the hammer has struck.
Our lives have the same effect on the world around us. If our whole lives are symbolized by that brief strike of the hammer against the bell, then the meaning and influence that our lives bear on those around us echoes on long after that original strike of the hammer. The Good News of our Scriptures is that in the ear of God, that ringing never stops. We are loved to the extent that we are resurrected into a new life in the presence of our Maker.
Imagine a Savior who loves us so much that he embraces us even if we are repulsive to the world around us. Imagine that he personally pulls every one of us out of our tombs of self-doubt and sin and death and into new life in the light. Imagine that God desires our fellowship like a great dinner host that gathers all at a common table. Can you see those pictures? You don’t have to imagine—because that is what God is—that is indeed what Christ has done for us, and that is the reality that we celebrate as we come to the table of communion.
Because the reverberations of life are still fresh in our ears, and we are shaped not only by those who are members of this congregation but also those whom we know in other walks of life, I would invite you to name aloud others who have passed away in the recent past after we name aloud those who have touched your lives as well.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Worldwide
With the recent "hit" our website got in Egypt, we have now been accessed on every continent in the world. Want to see for yourself? Scroll down to the counter at the very bottom of the page, click it, then look around at our "viewer stats" on the sitemeter. You can view our visitors by world map by clicking "world map" on the left sidebar, then clicking "last 100" in order to see where our last 100 viewers accessed the site from. You can also view "by location" to see a list of all the places our website has been accessed. Most exciting to me is not that we have been looked at worldwide, but the frequency of use in Oklahoma. I'm glad you're finding this site useful!
Monday, October 23, 2006
Forklifters for Jesus
In case you or someone you know is interested, a school for forklift certification at the Muskogee Indian Capital Vo-Tech will be running for 4 days. Enrollment is $32.50 and opens Oct 23rd. Classes are Monday Oct. 30th through Thursday, Nov. 2nd from 5:30 to 9:30. (During the Camp Gruber Hurricane Katrina period last fall, it is my understanding they had a hard time finding people certified to drive forklifts.)
(A message from your DS)
(A message from your DS)
Scripture for this Sunday
This Sunday we will celebrate All Saints day a few days early. We will also celebrate communion on this day. Instead of the normal lectionary readings, we will be using the lectionary readings for All Saint's Day. You can find them by clicking the Bible Study Link at the left, then clicking on "All Saint's Day."
The Big Fun Thing--Youth Event in Stillwater
Hey Youth!
The event is from 2:30-7pm on Sunday. We can be fashionably late if we leave here at 1pm. That'll give you time to get a bite to eat before leaving. Bring 8 bucks for cover charge. It'll be great, so join us and bring a friend. If you haven't already let me know you're coming, attach a comment below.
The event is from 2:30-7pm on Sunday. We can be fashionably late if we leave here at 1pm. That'll give you time to get a bite to eat before leaving. Bring 8 bucks for cover charge. It'll be great, so join us and bring a friend. If you haven't already let me know you're coming, attach a comment below.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Job 38: 1-7, 34-41
Psalm 104
You might have picked up on this from some of my other sermons—my favorite sanctuary is the outdoors. I don’t think I am that uncommon when it comes to this. I have spoken to many people who have a keen sense of God’s presence and power when they are attentive to nature. St. Augustine, one of the most influential Christians on our religion in all of history, wrote, “Some people, in order to discover god, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things. Look above you! Look below you! Note it. Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead he set before your eyes the things that he had made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that?”
I have had many great encounters with God in nature. My experiences have led me to a great interest and activity in the bridge between theology and ecology. When I was in seminary, I received a grant that allowed me to study and experience faith communities around the country that were involved in some kind of ethic or worship practice that incorporated the natural world around them.
I used some of the grant to travel to central Wyoming for a two week workshop retreat in the Wind River Range of mountains along a glacial lake called “Ring Lake Ranch.” The two weeks were spent horseback riding at 7 and 8 thousand feet, hiking, exploring petraglyphs, and attending lessons by a man named Belden Lane who wrote a book called Landscapes of the Sacred and The Solace of Fierce Landscapes.
On one occasion, I remember sitting in a little cleft in the rock that I had found that overlooked the glacial lake. The glacial lake had been formed thousands of years ago as the glacier had cut through the valley and left deposits of water sitting along its path. All of the lakes were connected by little streams, and the locals called them “string of pearls” lakes because of their beauty. My vantage point overlooked the lake and up the valley to the remains of the glacier that still covered the tops of some 10,000 foot mountains a mile or two up the valley.
As I took in the scene, I started to notice that the water would ripple in front of me, and then I would feel the cool breeze of the wind coming down the valley. As I focused closer, I began to notice that the lodgepole pines on the sides of the mountains in front of me also whistled and sang as the wind passed through their needles, and then when I turned to look further down the valley I could see the wind passing further and further along the valley.
In the Scriptures, the Holy Spirit is called Ruach, and it means “breath,” or “wind.” In today’s Psalm, the songwriter says of God, “You ride on the wings of the wind, you make the winds your messengers.” On this day, that scripture was burning on my heart. I felt God’s presence and power. The message that God gave me was, “I created all of this—all of this worships in its own way. The trees, the water respond to my breath—Do you?”
How do we respond? As a youth minister in Bartlesville, I planned and led two “environmental mission trips,” and while I was in seminary I created a student group called “Community of Faith for Healing the Earth.” The Psalmist also observes the breath of God animating all of life on Earth. The psalmist writes, “when you send forth your breath, they are created…when you take away your breath, they die and return to their dust.” Our scriptures tell us that what gives us life is the spirit, the breath of God. When I hear this, it causes me to want to do so much more with my life. It makes me want to live my life as praise to God. As the Psalmist says, “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.”
The authors of the Bible are certainly attuned to God’s presence in and through the world around us. The Psalmist this morning paints imagery of God entwined with creation. We are told that the wind is God’s wings, that the sunlight is God’s garment. The world around us is infused with God.
I imagine that many of you who hunt and enjoy recreation in the outdoors have witnessed moments of great peace and inspiration as the Psalmist records. Many of the hunters I know are interested in the process of being outdoors and observing the world around us as much or more so than the actual felling of an animal.
An appropriate response to God’s grandeur which is observable in the overwhelming expanse of the world and universe around us is humility. Haven’t you ever looked up at the stars with the understanding that the light you observe now was actually emitted thousands and even millions of years ago and simply been overwhelmed, humbled?
God responds to Job’s interrogation with a lesson in humility. Particularly offensive to God is no doubt Job’s curse of his own day of creation in the third chapter. Job is so carried away with his own misery that he curses the day of his own conception. He utters seven curses in a symbolic attempt to undo the creation of the whole universe which is also symbolized by the number seven.
God says to Job, “were you there when…?” God’s intention is to remind Job that there is a large, full world, and that God’s design and vision are utterly transcendent and mysterious. We may question God’s fairness when we suffer, but when we do we must also remember the vast size of God’s intentions. We typically behave and live in the world as if we are God’s only creation. Our depletion of natural resources and our short-sighted pursuit of material goods and gratification are indicative of our arrogance as members of Creation. If the scriptures proclaim that God can be perceived by us through the majesty of the world around us—what does it mean when we damage our environment for our own short-term gain?
While I was in Wyoming, I also took this picture…. In this picture, you may notice that the bare tree and the cloud in the sky give each other a sense of completion. When I saw this sight, it inspired in me the notion that God’s creation is interconnected in strange and mysterious ways. Ecosystems that have carefully entwined processes and delicate balance remind us of this truth.
While the vastness of God’s grandeur apparent in the night sky or Grand Canyon or the sheer power of the Pacific Ocean may easily inspire us to feel small and humble, God asks us to also be humbled by the intricacy of life. In God’s response to Job, not only does he mention the sky and mountains and leviathan, God also draws Job’s attention to the composition of mud, to the appetite of the lion cub, and his own provision for the common raven. God intends for us to respect the balance of Creation and to live as a harmonious member of creation.
Because we do worship a God who is attentive to all of His creation, and we do worship a God who charges us with the responsibility to be stewards of the Earth—I would ask us a faith community to come up with some creative ways that we can celebrate this covenant in our own community.
I have noticed that we do not have a recycling facility either in this town or in Okmulgee. Why not? Is that a need that can be addressed by the faith community, or a partnership between communities? We might also ask ourselves if the ease of use of Styrofoam is really worth the impact that these materials have on our environment. Our town is next to the Okmulgee landfill. Do we want the longest remaining evidence of our community here to be our coffee cups and plates? Our trash? In my own private estimation of easily addressable steps we could take to be better stewards of the earth—this is one that I see.
We live in a community that is easily traversed by bike or by foot. I would encourage everyone who is able to walk or bike when weather permits to church or on your daily errands or to work. I have found that you see a lot more of your community when we view it from this vantage point.
We worship God through our attention to our personal lives, our morality, our love for neighbor and those in need. We worship God through our celebration of Jesus Christ. We also worship our Creator by living as faithful stewards of the Creation. God has blessed us with unique power—the faculties of reason and skill. With these faculties and without the inspiration of God we have developed a way of life that is not sustainable because it is destructive to the world around us—destructive to our human and non-human neighbors. God gives us gifts of reason and skill, God creates us in his image with these tools—but we must be attentive to God’s word as we use these gifts. We are asked to be caretakers of the earth—our lives and the delicate balance of God’s creation depends on it! In Costa Rica, wildlife preserves contain human communities as well as wildlife because the government realizes that humans are part of the ecosystem and can be a benefit to it if they live within their niche.
How can you live as a steward of creation? How does God communicate with you through the world around you? How do we, as children of God, share our faith in God by our engagement with the ecosystem in which we live? Throughout the scriptures, we are reminded of God’s power and majesty in the beauty and intricacy of Creation. Furthermore, We are blessed with the ability to share in God’s act of creation. Let us use this ability with humility and with celebration of God’s presence in our lives. Amen!
Psalm 104
You might have picked up on this from some of my other sermons—my favorite sanctuary is the outdoors. I don’t think I am that uncommon when it comes to this. I have spoken to many people who have a keen sense of God’s presence and power when they are attentive to nature. St. Augustine, one of the most influential Christians on our religion in all of history, wrote, “Some people, in order to discover god, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things. Look above you! Look below you! Note it. Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead he set before your eyes the things that he had made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that?”
I have had many great encounters with God in nature. My experiences have led me to a great interest and activity in the bridge between theology and ecology. When I was in seminary, I received a grant that allowed me to study and experience faith communities around the country that were involved in some kind of ethic or worship practice that incorporated the natural world around them.
I used some of the grant to travel to central Wyoming for a two week workshop retreat in the Wind River Range of mountains along a glacial lake called “Ring Lake Ranch.” The two weeks were spent horseback riding at 7 and 8 thousand feet, hiking, exploring petraglyphs, and attending lessons by a man named Belden Lane who wrote a book called Landscapes of the Sacred and The Solace of Fierce Landscapes.
On one occasion, I remember sitting in a little cleft in the rock that I had found that overlooked the glacial lake. The glacial lake had been formed thousands of years ago as the glacier had cut through the valley and left deposits of water sitting along its path. All of the lakes were connected by little streams, and the locals called them “string of pearls” lakes because of their beauty. My vantage point overlooked the lake and up the valley to the remains of the glacier that still covered the tops of some 10,000 foot mountains a mile or two up the valley.
As I took in the scene, I started to notice that the water would ripple in front of me, and then I would feel the cool breeze of the wind coming down the valley. As I focused closer, I began to notice that the lodgepole pines on the sides of the mountains in front of me also whistled and sang as the wind passed through their needles, and then when I turned to look further down the valley I could see the wind passing further and further along the valley.
In the Scriptures, the Holy Spirit is called Ruach, and it means “breath,” or “wind.” In today’s Psalm, the songwriter says of God, “You ride on the wings of the wind, you make the winds your messengers.” On this day, that scripture was burning on my heart. I felt God’s presence and power. The message that God gave me was, “I created all of this—all of this worships in its own way. The trees, the water respond to my breath—Do you?”
How do we respond? As a youth minister in Bartlesville, I planned and led two “environmental mission trips,” and while I was in seminary I created a student group called “Community of Faith for Healing the Earth.” The Psalmist also observes the breath of God animating all of life on Earth. The psalmist writes, “when you send forth your breath, they are created…when you take away your breath, they die and return to their dust.” Our scriptures tell us that what gives us life is the spirit, the breath of God. When I hear this, it causes me to want to do so much more with my life. It makes me want to live my life as praise to God. As the Psalmist says, “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.”
The authors of the Bible are certainly attuned to God’s presence in and through the world around us. The Psalmist this morning paints imagery of God entwined with creation. We are told that the wind is God’s wings, that the sunlight is God’s garment. The world around us is infused with God.
I imagine that many of you who hunt and enjoy recreation in the outdoors have witnessed moments of great peace and inspiration as the Psalmist records. Many of the hunters I know are interested in the process of being outdoors and observing the world around us as much or more so than the actual felling of an animal.
An appropriate response to God’s grandeur which is observable in the overwhelming expanse of the world and universe around us is humility. Haven’t you ever looked up at the stars with the understanding that the light you observe now was actually emitted thousands and even millions of years ago and simply been overwhelmed, humbled?
God responds to Job’s interrogation with a lesson in humility. Particularly offensive to God is no doubt Job’s curse of his own day of creation in the third chapter. Job is so carried away with his own misery that he curses the day of his own conception. He utters seven curses in a symbolic attempt to undo the creation of the whole universe which is also symbolized by the number seven.
God says to Job, “were you there when…?” God’s intention is to remind Job that there is a large, full world, and that God’s design and vision are utterly transcendent and mysterious. We may question God’s fairness when we suffer, but when we do we must also remember the vast size of God’s intentions. We typically behave and live in the world as if we are God’s only creation. Our depletion of natural resources and our short-sighted pursuit of material goods and gratification are indicative of our arrogance as members of Creation. If the scriptures proclaim that God can be perceived by us through the majesty of the world around us—what does it mean when we damage our environment for our own short-term gain?
While I was in Wyoming, I also took this picture…. In this picture, you may notice that the bare tree and the cloud in the sky give each other a sense of completion. When I saw this sight, it inspired in me the notion that God’s creation is interconnected in strange and mysterious ways. Ecosystems that have carefully entwined processes and delicate balance remind us of this truth.
While the vastness of God’s grandeur apparent in the night sky or Grand Canyon or the sheer power of the Pacific Ocean may easily inspire us to feel small and humble, God asks us to also be humbled by the intricacy of life. In God’s response to Job, not only does he mention the sky and mountains and leviathan, God also draws Job’s attention to the composition of mud, to the appetite of the lion cub, and his own provision for the common raven. God intends for us to respect the balance of Creation and to live as a harmonious member of creation.
Because we do worship a God who is attentive to all of His creation, and we do worship a God who charges us with the responsibility to be stewards of the Earth—I would ask us a faith community to come up with some creative ways that we can celebrate this covenant in our own community.
I have noticed that we do not have a recycling facility either in this town or in Okmulgee. Why not? Is that a need that can be addressed by the faith community, or a partnership between communities? We might also ask ourselves if the ease of use of Styrofoam is really worth the impact that these materials have on our environment. Our town is next to the Okmulgee landfill. Do we want the longest remaining evidence of our community here to be our coffee cups and plates? Our trash? In my own private estimation of easily addressable steps we could take to be better stewards of the earth—this is one that I see.
We live in a community that is easily traversed by bike or by foot. I would encourage everyone who is able to walk or bike when weather permits to church or on your daily errands or to work. I have found that you see a lot more of your community when we view it from this vantage point.
We worship God through our attention to our personal lives, our morality, our love for neighbor and those in need. We worship God through our celebration of Jesus Christ. We also worship our Creator by living as faithful stewards of the Creation. God has blessed us with unique power—the faculties of reason and skill. With these faculties and without the inspiration of God we have developed a way of life that is not sustainable because it is destructive to the world around us—destructive to our human and non-human neighbors. God gives us gifts of reason and skill, God creates us in his image with these tools—but we must be attentive to God’s word as we use these gifts. We are asked to be caretakers of the earth—our lives and the delicate balance of God’s creation depends on it! In Costa Rica, wildlife preserves contain human communities as well as wildlife because the government realizes that humans are part of the ecosystem and can be a benefit to it if they live within their niche.
How can you live as a steward of creation? How does God communicate with you through the world around you? How do we, as children of God, share our faith in God by our engagement with the ecosystem in which we live? Throughout the scriptures, we are reminded of God’s power and majesty in the beauty and intricacy of Creation. Furthermore, We are blessed with the ability to share in God’s act of creation. Let us use this ability with humility and with celebration of God’s presence in our lives. Amen!
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Give input on new UMC website. Clink link to the side, or the stained glass pic of Jesus
UMC.org Offers Preview of New Web Site
Online Survey Solicits Consumer Feedback
NASHVILLE (October 17, 2006) United Methodist Communications is asking visitors to UMC.org, the official online ministry of The United Methodist Church, for feedback on a cutting-edge redesign of the Web site.
The home page of www.umc.org offers a sneak peek at a few of the innovative features that will be offered on the new Web site, scheduled for a full launch in early 2007. Six online surveys provide opportunities for users to offer comments and opinions for consideration before the site is finalized.
“Our goal is to make it easier for people to connect to the church and to each other through technology--to provide a digital front door to the church. Throughout the development process, we have sought to listen to what it is that users want in a website and to provide the tools, resources, and content to meet those needs,” said the Rev. Larry Hollon, chief executive of United Methodist Communications. “We want to know if we’re meeting their expectations.”
The sneak peek showcases:
Our People: Meet some of the people of The United Methodist Church and read their stories of faith
Find a Church: Reach out to seekers in your community by showcasing your primary ministries
Living Prayer Center: Send prayer requests to covenant prayer groups around the world
Spiritual Gifts: Discover your spiritual gifts using an online assessment tool
Ask InfoServ : Get your questions answered through the denomination’s official information service
Search: Quickly find the information you are looking for using the Google search device
The sneak peek offers just a sample of what’s to come over the next few months. Users can sign up for e-mail updates letting them know when new features are added.
In addition to providing feedback, local churches are asked to update and personalize individual church listings available at Find-a-Church. Users can search the database of churches by geographic location, congregation size, language and ethnicity. Local congregations can use this feature as an evangelism tool by adding details about their worship schedule and activities, words of welcome, photos of the church and pastor, membership statistics, an interactive map and driving directions, and more.
Online Survey Solicits Consumer Feedback
NASHVILLE (October 17, 2006) United Methodist Communications is asking visitors to UMC.org, the official online ministry of The United Methodist Church, for feedback on a cutting-edge redesign of the Web site.
The home page of www.umc.org offers a sneak peek at a few of the innovative features that will be offered on the new Web site, scheduled for a full launch in early 2007. Six online surveys provide opportunities for users to offer comments and opinions for consideration before the site is finalized.
“Our goal is to make it easier for people to connect to the church and to each other through technology--to provide a digital front door to the church. Throughout the development process, we have sought to listen to what it is that users want in a website and to provide the tools, resources, and content to meet those needs,” said the Rev. Larry Hollon, chief executive of United Methodist Communications. “We want to know if we’re meeting their expectations.”
The sneak peek showcases:
Our People: Meet some of the people of The United Methodist Church and read their stories of faith
Find a Church: Reach out to seekers in your community by showcasing your primary ministries
Living Prayer Center: Send prayer requests to covenant prayer groups around the world
Spiritual Gifts: Discover your spiritual gifts using an online assessment tool
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Sunday, October 15, 2006
Sermon Notes--Oct. 15, 2006. Laity Sunday
Today's sermon is not a manuscript because we didn't preach with a manuscript. Dr. Pat Edmonds and the pastor each elaborated on paragraph 220 from the Book of Discipline's section on the meaning of membership.
Sermon Texts
1 Peter 2: 1-10
Matthew 5: 13-16
All members of Christ's universal church hare called to share in the ministry which is committed to the whole church of Jesus Christ. Therefore, each member of the United Methodist Church is to be a servant of Christ on mission in the local and worldwide community. This servanthood is performed in family life, daily work, recreation and social activities, responsible citizenship, the stewardship of property and accumulated resources, the issues of corporate life, and all attitudes toward other persons. Participation in disciplined groups is an expected part of personal mission involvement. Each member is called upon to be a witness for Christ in the world, a light and a leaven in society, and a reconciler in a culture of conflict. Each member is to identify with the agony and suffering of the world and to radiate and exemplify the Christ of hope. The standards of attitude and conduct set forth in the Social Principles shall be considered as an essential resource for guiding each member of the Church in being a servant of Christ on mission.
What does this passage from the book of Discipline say to you? Comment below.
Sermon Texts
1 Peter 2: 1-10
Matthew 5: 13-16
All members of Christ's universal church hare called to share in the ministry which is committed to the whole church of Jesus Christ. Therefore, each member of the United Methodist Church is to be a servant of Christ on mission in the local and worldwide community. This servanthood is performed in family life, daily work, recreation and social activities, responsible citizenship, the stewardship of property and accumulated resources, the issues of corporate life, and all attitudes toward other persons. Participation in disciplined groups is an expected part of personal mission involvement. Each member is called upon to be a witness for Christ in the world, a light and a leaven in society, and a reconciler in a culture of conflict. Each member is to identify with the agony and suffering of the world and to radiate and exemplify the Christ of hope. The standards of attitude and conduct set forth in the Social Principles shall be considered as an essential resource for guiding each member of the Church in being a servant of Christ on mission.
What does this passage from the book of Discipline say to you? Comment below.
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