Maundy Thursday
April 13, 2006
Texts: Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14
I Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13: 1-17, 31b-35
Title: Up the Down Staircase
One of my oldest friends in ministry is the Rev. Denny Camp. Denny and I have known each other over thirty years. He is a minister in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).
Denny graduated from Cummings High School in Burlington, NC. It was an old building built in the early 1900’s, a long, brick, two-story building with staircases at each end of the central hall.
Some long ago principal had organized the class changing chaos by decreeing that the East End Staircase was UP and the West End Staircase was DOWN. This rule was strictly enforced, going the wrong way on a staircase was a serious offence!
One day Denny found himself at the bottom of the DOWN staircase a few minutes before classes changed. His next class was in a room directly over his head.
To PROPERLY, LEGALLY, LEGITIMATELY, go upstairs, he would need to walk all the way to the other end of the corridor, go up the UP staircase, and then walk all the way back to his class room. (Which would probably have been good exercise, but he was a 15 year old boy, exercise was not on his mind.)
Denny glanced at his watch, looked around and saw no teachers, and headed up the DOWN staircase.
When he was about halfway up, he first felt, then saw, then heard a presence above him. He glanced up and saw the Football Coach/Assistant Principal glaring down at him.
CAMP! Get up here!
At just that exact moment, the bell rang and a sea of teenage humanity started flowing down the DOWN staircase.
Denny couldn’t make any headway – he was stuck.
The Coach kept glaring – and shouting
CAMP, GET UP HERE!
He couldn’t go up, he couldn’t buck the tide,
He couldn’t go down, the coach was calling him up.
He was stuck, stuck going up the DOWN staircase.
Sometimes our lives feel like that,
like a constant struggle to push against the tide,
Henry David Thoreau said it best in the 1830’s
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.
We start out with great hopes and grand plans; our way is clear and the sailing looks easy. Then suddenly – we look around – and we’re stuck. Nothing is working out the way we thought.
Marriage is complicated, jobs are uncertain, the economy is shaky, the world is a place full of danger and trouble and here we stand: unable to go forward, unwilling to back down.
It is when one finds oneself stuck,
immobile on the staircase of life,
that one must re-evaluate the very meaning of life,
re-define one’s goals,
re-calculate what “going up” means,
re-focus on loving and serving God
which means:
loving and serving others.
That is the point of Jesus’ footwashing ritual,
His “object lesson” his “children’s sermon”
for his spiritual children, his disciples.
Listen again to the words of our Gospel lesson:
Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him . . ..
After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord-and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.
In this act of humility, servanthood and love; Jesus has lived out a radical reversal of the way things normally are; and he has called us to do the same.
Jesus has invited to embark on a journey up the DOWN
staircase, swimming against the tide of the world’s values of self-interest and personal privilege.
In Jesus’ new way of being,
the meaning of life is found in the cross.
When we embrace this new way of being
our life’s agenda becomes discipleship and service.
And our struggle is transformed from an effort to succeed
into a journey of obedience to the Gospel.
This transforms the image of going up the DOWN
staircase from one of frustration and failure
to one of spiritual pilgrimage and virtue.
The people flowing down the stairs are the material and cultural forces hindering us in our efforts to ascend.
And though it’s difficult to imagine God as a red-faced football coach, we can at least envision a Higher Power calling to us from above, encouraging us,
calling us to “go up higher.”
The Spiritual life is a struggle, a struggle to live a life of love and service to God and neighbor in a world which constantly pushes us in the opposite direction.
And the GOOD NEWS is, we don’t fight this fight alone,
God sent Jesus to lead the way, to teach, guide, show, and yes, carry us if necessary, Up the DOWN staircase.
Amen
Easter Sunday
April 16, 2006
TEXTS: Acts 10:34-43
I Corinthians 15:1-11
John 20:1-18
TITLE: But God,
“They put him to death by hanging Him on a tree, but God raised him on the third day. . . “
2005 was a year filled with death for me. Even a partial list is daunting.
Jack English was my college room-mate. He has been my life-long friend. Barbara was his wife. Jack was in my wedding in 1974, I was in his wedding in 1975. His now-grown kids are my god-children. We visited each other often over the years, and the four of us got into hour long conversations on the phone every other month or so. Barbara died of cancer last year. She was 51.
Rene’ Teems was the mother of one of Joseph’s team-mates on the Hayesville High School basketball team. We saw them at all the games,
ate with them at fast-food places all over the mountains. Rene’ died of an aneurysm last summer. She was 48.
Dick Morton was my English Professor at Guilford College. But he was more than that. He worked with me, he saw within me something I could not see in myself. Without him I would have dropped out of college and gone back to the farm and the mill. He went to the hospital for surgery, he got a staph infection, he died. He was 69.
Richard Wallace was an African-American Lutheran Theologian and pastor. He was also my friend. We met in the early 90’s when I was on the board of the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta. We worked together in teaching racial awareness to Lutheran teen-agers in the South. He taught for me in my Spirituality Programs at Hinton Center.
The last time I saw him was at the Mexican Restaurant in Arden, across from Nativity Church. We ate lunch and I took him to the airport. A few months later he was dead of a heart attack. He was 53.
Yes, 2005 was a year filled with death in my life. And the only thing that gives me any hope is to remember two little words from Acts: BUT GOD!
They put him to death on a tree, BUT GOD raised him. .
Those words, BUT GOD, are the church’s real,
and ultimately only, answer
to the temptations and trials the world offers.
Trying to reason our way through grief and loss,
trying to make sense of the senseless,
trying to convince a world gone crazy
with the desire for more of everything and anything
that that desire is deadly of both body and soul;
these things are, at the end of the day, pointless.
There is no reason which can assuage our grief,
there is no sense to be made
of the raging evil we see around us,
there is no way to divert the addicted and bloated
from seeking their fix, be it oil or drugs.
The only answer we have to offer to these things,
which Luther summed up as
Sin, Death and the Devil,
is these two words, BUT GOD!
Beginning with Adam and Eve and the Apple,
the Devil tempts, people Sin, Death ensues,
and God intervenes with another chance.
It is the golden thread running through the Bible;
This story of God’s
redeeming and forgiving love,
This story of God’s willingness to act
in response to the world’s evil.
This story summed up in the words BUT GOD.
Today we celebrate the ultimate BUT GOD moment, the raising of Jesus from the tomb.
It is both the proof and the promise of our faith.
It reminds us of what God HAS done in the past while promising to us what God will do in the future.
With Jesus, the world, Luther’s tri-logy of
SIN, DEATH AND THE DEVIL
had done their best to do their worst.
Good Friday had appeared to be
a complete victory for those forces of destruction which assail all of us,
Evil had reared its ugly head and roared;
and Good had stood by idly and done nothing.
When Mary went to the tomb,
she went in deep sadness and despair,
she went into a place of coldness and death, she went to a place
with no hope and no happiness,
she went to prepare a body for burial,
she went to put Jesus in his grave.
But when she got there,
she discovered that things had changed,
the tomb was empty,
the body was missing,
and angels were lurking about.
Mary had come upon the greatest
BUT GOD! moment of all.
Our lives are full of difficulty.
Hurricanes come, friends die,
relatives get sick, jobs don’t pan out,
politicians and teachers and yes,
even preachers,
turn out to be less than they seem.
All of life is subject to the painful realities
of decline and decay.
But Easter reminds us
that the church has an answer
and that answer is God’s.
God’s love, God’s forgiveness, God’s power,
God’s calling, God’s actions in the world.
Easter is more than a promise of life beyond the grave, of happiness in heaven with our loved ones.
Easter is a promise that life is good now, that God’s power is active in this moment, in this place, in our lives.
Easter tells us that our eternal life begins now and goes with us through death into God’s future.
Easter tells us that whatever may happen to us in this world there is an answer, and the answer is BUT GOD.
The world says; seek success and glory and material well-being above all else,
BUT GOD says; “Seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven and all these things shall be added unto you.”
The world says; It’s a dog eat dog world, it’s a rat race. It’s every man (person) for himself.
BUT GOD says; Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
The world says, Find your self, your bliss. Do that thing which makes you feel most fulfilled.
BUT GOD says; You shall love the LORD your God, with all your heart, mind and soul; and the second is just like it; love your neighbor as yourself.
The World says, Stave off death at whatever cost. The worst thing that can happen is to die and any action that you take to avoid it is good.
BUT GOD says, Those who would save their life will lose it, but those who lose their life for my sake and the sake of the Gospel will save it.
The world’s way leads to the death of the soul and eventually the death of the body, with no hope for tomorrow and no joy for today.
BUT GOD’S way leads to life, both now and forever; life full of the joy of loving and serving God and neighbor with reckless abandon and total trust in God’s will and way.
Which is why we cry out today:
Christ is risen!
CHRIST IS RISEN INDEED!
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Monday, April 10, 2006
HOLY WEEK, 2006
Rather than comment on the specific texts, (of which there are a lot this week) I am going to give some ideas about Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter preaching without a lot of reference to particular texts.
This past Sunday's Asheville Citizen-Times had a column by a local high school student, extolling the study of Latin. In the course of her essay, she made the point that one cannot translate directly from one language to another; words are not "signs" which stand for the exact equivalent universal truths. Languages are symbol systems; words are symbols, that's why we say "something was lost in translation," symbols are more complex than signs.
It seems to me that way too often we try way too hard to turn Biblical symbols into Theological signs that can be translated into our current experience. Starting with the fact that the original stories are in languages other than English, and they are from a culture of 2000 years ago, and going through those 2000 years of mutation and translation and mangling, and new cultures and other interpretations; it is, I think, almost impossible to get at a one-to-one correlation between the "signs" of the Biblical Talk and the signs of our Modern/post-modern "dialectic."
Which is why I think taking the biblical stories as symbols is a more productive way to go, particularly in preaching. The important thing is to find a way to hear and experience the "symbolic" language of the story and to pay attention to the ways those symbols intercect with our lives and our language.
And the way to do this is to experience the Biblical stories as just that: stories, indeed the whole Biblical account as a story, a story which sucks us in and translates us, and creates in us a new way of seeing and being in the world.
For example, on Maundy Thursday, one should experience the washing of feet without a lot of explaining, the same with the supper and the stripping of the Altar. Any attempt to create a "sign" from ancient experience to this moment in time is misplaced. It is important to let the symbols, the drama and rituals, so their own work in each heart.
Proclamation on this night is accent, nuance, poetry rather than prose. Stories of hospitality, servanthood and/or betrayal. A meditation on meals and rewembrance,
these are the stuff of preaching on this night.
For Good Friday, Tennebrae or a Soluemn Good Friday Liturgy, with A long prayer Litany and the reading of the Passion Narrative, slammed books, and dimmed lights and preocessions of crosses; these things do not so much need to be expalined as they need to be highlighted, touched upon, augmented. A reflection on despair and darkness or lost hope is the theme here, deepening the mystery, not explaining or relieving it.
Easter is all about JOY, inexplicable JOY, and if it is inexplicable, why do we try so hard to explain it? Proclaim the joy. Announce the victory. Again, tell the story, and let the story do its work on us.
Peace,
Delmo
This past Sunday's Asheville Citizen-Times had a column by a local high school student, extolling the study of Latin. In the course of her essay, she made the point that one cannot translate directly from one language to another; words are not "signs" which stand for the exact equivalent universal truths. Languages are symbol systems; words are symbols, that's why we say "something was lost in translation," symbols are more complex than signs.
It seems to me that way too often we try way too hard to turn Biblical symbols into Theological signs that can be translated into our current experience. Starting with the fact that the original stories are in languages other than English, and they are from a culture of 2000 years ago, and going through those 2000 years of mutation and translation and mangling, and new cultures and other interpretations; it is, I think, almost impossible to get at a one-to-one correlation between the "signs" of the Biblical Talk and the signs of our Modern/post-modern "dialectic."
Which is why I think taking the biblical stories as symbols is a more productive way to go, particularly in preaching. The important thing is to find a way to hear and experience the "symbolic" language of the story and to pay attention to the ways those symbols intercect with our lives and our language.
And the way to do this is to experience the Biblical stories as just that: stories, indeed the whole Biblical account as a story, a story which sucks us in and translates us, and creates in us a new way of seeing and being in the world.
For example, on Maundy Thursday, one should experience the washing of feet without a lot of explaining, the same with the supper and the stripping of the Altar. Any attempt to create a "sign" from ancient experience to this moment in time is misplaced. It is important to let the symbols, the drama and rituals, so their own work in each heart.
Proclamation on this night is accent, nuance, poetry rather than prose. Stories of hospitality, servanthood and/or betrayal. A meditation on meals and rewembrance,
these are the stuff of preaching on this night.
For Good Friday, Tennebrae or a Soluemn Good Friday Liturgy, with A long prayer Litany and the reading of the Passion Narrative, slammed books, and dimmed lights and preocessions of crosses; these things do not so much need to be expalined as they need to be highlighted, touched upon, augmented. A reflection on despair and darkness or lost hope is the theme here, deepening the mystery, not explaining or relieving it.
Easter is all about JOY, inexplicable JOY, and if it is inexplicable, why do we try so hard to explain it? Proclaim the joy. Announce the victory. Again, tell the story, and let the story do its work on us.
Peace,
Delmo
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
SUNDAY OF THE PASSION/PALM SUNDAY: RCL Texts for April 9, 2006
FIRST READING: Isaih 50:4-9a,verse 4: "The LORD God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word."
Dr. Richard Lischer's Beecher Lectures on Preaching have been published as "The End of Words: the Language of Reconciliation in a Culture of Violence." A couple of quotes are appropriate here:
"Preaching bears the impossible weight of its own message, which is God's willingness to be pushed out of the world and onto a cross. Preaching has to conjure with its own apparent irrelevance. God (and the preacher) can relate to the world only via the great symbol of marginalization, the cross and by means of the hidden presence of God's chosen instruemnt, the marginalized Man for Others."(p.8)
"We preach God's love to those who are staggering through loveless relationships. We preach forgiveness to injured parties who possess a moral right to say "Never again." Worst of all, we preach reconciliation to those who, either consciously or unconsciously, seize upon our words as permission for continued sin. Of them, the Scripture says, "They crucify the Son of God afresh." No where do you see the vulnerability of the church more clearly than when it gathers up its authority and announces the forgiveness of sins." (p.144)
"The End of Words", Richard Lischer, Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2005
SECOND READING: Phillipians 2:5-11: verse 5: "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus"
A Quote from T.S. Eliot: "People are only influenced in the direction in which they want to go, and influence consists largely in making them conscious of their wishes to proceed in that direction." (cited in AARP Magazine, May/June 2006 by Sallie Foley, M.S.W. p.38)
If this is true, (and my 30 years of experience as a parish pastor teaches me it is) and if we are called to follow Jesus to the cross (which we are) and if, as preachers, we are supposed to issue this call to the cross to our parishioners (again, which we are), so how do we get people to put self-interest aside and want to go to the cross? How do we make cross-living the direction they want to go.
How do we "make them conscious of their wishes to proceed in that direction?
About ten years ago, I was standing at the sink washing dishes with my oldest son David, who will be 23 this summer. David was then taking cooking classes and he was talking about his plans to be a gourmet cook for about 20 years and then run for the US Senate. As gently as I could, I pointed out to him that though I was sure he was capable of both those things, it might be very difficult to convince millions of voters that gourmet cooking was good experience for becoming a Senator. He said, "Well, I'll just get them to change their minds." Then I said, "That could be very difficult. Look how hard it is for me to get a couple of hundred people at the church to change their minds." To which David replied, "You're not called to get them to change their minds. You're called to preach the Gospel. The Holy Spirit changes their minds." (Hmm. Boy must of had a good catechism teacher. Thank you Pr. Laura)
THE GOSPEL: Mark 15:1-39 - verse 1 - "As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate."
It's reading week. This from Carl Jung, "Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding about ourselves." (Sally Folie, AARP, p.38)
I remember that same thought from a counseling seminar as "That which we dislike most in others is that which we dislike most in ourselves."
Either way, it raises up some interesting reflections about the crucifixion of Jesus.
1) What was it about Jesus that irritated others? What does that irritation say about them?
2) More to the point, what about Jesus irritates us? And what does that irritation say about us?
To go one more step, though we do not cry out "Crucify him," for we are much too polite or indifferent for that, how do we "crucify him" again, and again, and again, in our lives? In what ways to we speak his praise with our lips and drive more nails into his hands with our lives?
If we take Jung's thought seriously, we might think of Jesus' story as a mirror held up to our lives. It is only as we look at Christ that we begin to see ourselves clearly.
I noticed it again the other day, one of the creations of modern technology that I simply do not understand. Nothing real significant, just something that puzzles me. Passenger side rear-view mirrors. They say, "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear." Whose bright idea was that? The only thing I use that mirror for is to change lanes to the right, and believe you me, I want to know EXACTLY where that car back there is. So WHY???? does the mirror show it further away than it really is, thus making moving right more dangerous?
But you know what, there is emotional, spiritual truth in those words, "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear" That is the point of Jung's observation. The irritation we feel at others is not over there with them, it's in here, with us.
The reactions we have to Jesus, the cross and the gospel are not over there, or back there 2000 years; they are right here and right now. They are indeed "Closer than they appear."
Peace,
delmo
Dr. Richard Lischer's Beecher Lectures on Preaching have been published as "The End of Words: the Language of Reconciliation in a Culture of Violence." A couple of quotes are appropriate here:
"Preaching bears the impossible weight of its own message, which is God's willingness to be pushed out of the world and onto a cross. Preaching has to conjure with its own apparent irrelevance. God (and the preacher) can relate to the world only via the great symbol of marginalization, the cross and by means of the hidden presence of God's chosen instruemnt, the marginalized Man for Others."(p.8)
"We preach God's love to those who are staggering through loveless relationships. We preach forgiveness to injured parties who possess a moral right to say "Never again." Worst of all, we preach reconciliation to those who, either consciously or unconsciously, seize upon our words as permission for continued sin. Of them, the Scripture says, "They crucify the Son of God afresh." No where do you see the vulnerability of the church more clearly than when it gathers up its authority and announces the forgiveness of sins." (p.144)
"The End of Words", Richard Lischer, Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2005
SECOND READING: Phillipians 2:5-11: verse 5: "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus"
A Quote from T.S. Eliot: "People are only influenced in the direction in which they want to go, and influence consists largely in making them conscious of their wishes to proceed in that direction." (cited in AARP Magazine, May/June 2006 by Sallie Foley, M.S.W. p.38)
If this is true, (and my 30 years of experience as a parish pastor teaches me it is) and if we are called to follow Jesus to the cross (which we are) and if, as preachers, we are supposed to issue this call to the cross to our parishioners (again, which we are), so how do we get people to put self-interest aside and want to go to the cross? How do we make cross-living the direction they want to go.
How do we "make them conscious of their wishes to proceed in that direction?
About ten years ago, I was standing at the sink washing dishes with my oldest son David, who will be 23 this summer. David was then taking cooking classes and he was talking about his plans to be a gourmet cook for about 20 years and then run for the US Senate. As gently as I could, I pointed out to him that though I was sure he was capable of both those things, it might be very difficult to convince millions of voters that gourmet cooking was good experience for becoming a Senator. He said, "Well, I'll just get them to change their minds." Then I said, "That could be very difficult. Look how hard it is for me to get a couple of hundred people at the church to change their minds." To which David replied, "You're not called to get them to change their minds. You're called to preach the Gospel. The Holy Spirit changes their minds." (Hmm. Boy must of had a good catechism teacher. Thank you Pr. Laura)
THE GOSPEL: Mark 15:1-39 - verse 1 - "As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate."
It's reading week. This from Carl Jung, "Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding about ourselves." (Sally Folie, AARP, p.38)
I remember that same thought from a counseling seminar as "That which we dislike most in others is that which we dislike most in ourselves."
Either way, it raises up some interesting reflections about the crucifixion of Jesus.
1) What was it about Jesus that irritated others? What does that irritation say about them?
2) More to the point, what about Jesus irritates us? And what does that irritation say about us?
To go one more step, though we do not cry out "Crucify him," for we are much too polite or indifferent for that, how do we "crucify him" again, and again, and again, in our lives? In what ways to we speak his praise with our lips and drive more nails into his hands with our lives?
If we take Jung's thought seriously, we might think of Jesus' story as a mirror held up to our lives. It is only as we look at Christ that we begin to see ourselves clearly.
I noticed it again the other day, one of the creations of modern technology that I simply do not understand. Nothing real significant, just something that puzzles me. Passenger side rear-view mirrors. They say, "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear." Whose bright idea was that? The only thing I use that mirror for is to change lanes to the right, and believe you me, I want to know EXACTLY where that car back there is. So WHY???? does the mirror show it further away than it really is, thus making moving right more dangerous?
But you know what, there is emotional, spiritual truth in those words, "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear" That is the point of Jung's observation. The irritation we feel at others is not over there with them, it's in here, with us.
The reactions we have to Jesus, the cross and the gospel are not over there, or back there 2000 years; they are right here and right now. They are indeed "Closer than they appear."
Peace,
delmo
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Lent 5: RCL Texts for April 2, 2006
Jeremiah 31:31-34: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God; and they will be my people.'
I have never been any good at things like singing or playing a musical instrument or playing a sport beyond the sort of 8th grade level. Part of it is a lack of talent. But that's just part of it.
Another part of it is an unwillingness to practice, to go over and over the basic, rudimentary motions of any particular activity enough to get good at it. There were a couple of exceptions.
I could shoot a fairly consistent jump-shot in basketball and I became a pretty good contact hitter in baseball. But I was not a good player. I wouldn't work at it.
The same thing with singing. I had no natural talent or ear, but I could have learned to be more than adequate, but I wouldn't put in the dull, repetitous time necessary. Same thing for the guitar I bought and the piano lessons I signed up for.
I have been thinking about how it is that covenants get written on people's hearts and it seems to me that developing a right relationship with God and neighbour; learning to live life by Jesus' Great Commandments (e.g. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind. And the second is like unto it, love your neighbour as yourself.) is a lot like learning to play baseball or to sing; it's a matter of staying with the basics until they become a part of who you are.
One of the goals in sport is to make the regular activities such second nature that you quit thinking and just do it. To do that takes "practice." Which, it seems to me, might be why we talk about "practicing our religion." Could it be that covenants get written on our hearts through practicing the "unnatural acts" of unselfish and unconditional love toward others until they become second nature; i.e. are written on our hearts?
Hebrews 5:5-10 - In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him, and he was heard . . . ."What? He was heard? What do you mean "He was heard?" He was crucified wasn't he? He still got executed, didn't he? In what sense was his prayer heard?
When I was about 12, I was a Boy Scout. We met at the Community Building across the road from the Elementary School. Just down the road was the medical clinic. As often happens in a small place, one person wore many hats. Dr. Tulledge was the doctor at the Rural Clinic. He was also our Scoutmaster. And he was a lay preacher at the Presbyterian Church.
One night at Scouts we ran a race in the school parking lot. I fell, skidded on the asphalt and gravel and lodged a small pebble under the skin of my forehead. Dr. Tulledge left the troop under the care of some of the Dads and he and my Daddy took me down the road to the clinic to tend to my wound.
The Dr. was a good man and an adequate doctor, but he didn't have much of a bedside manner. He came at me with a huge needle to numb my forehead. When I squirmed, he threw one giant leg over my mid-section and held my arms down with his left arm. I looked at Daddy and started crying and yelling, DADDY, DADDY, DADDY, don't let him hurt me PLEASE Daddy.
DADY! DADDY! DADDY!
The Dr. inserted the needle while holding me down and then proceeded to grope around in my forehead with a pair of tweezers trying to get that little rock. It really, really hurt. I continued to cry and beg Daddy to make him stop. And just as I felt the rock move and then come out I saw my Daddy squeeze my jacket in his hands and let a tear slip slowly from his eye. It was the only time I remember seeing my Daddy cry.
DADDY! DADDY! DADDY! I was heard. And I was denied.
Jesus was heard. And he was denied. And "he learned obedience through what he suffered and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.
GOSPEL LESSON: John 12:20-33 "Sir we wish to see Jesus."
Afew years ago, they made a movie out of John Irving's novel "The Cider House Rules". It was set in an orphanage in Maine right after WWII. When the film was nominated for an Oscar, USA Today ran a story about the Connie Maxwell Home in Greenwood SC to see how orphanages had changed in half a century.
The Connie Maxwell home is run by the Baptists of South Carolina, and like most former orphanages now, deals mostly with children who have been removed from their homes and are awaiting foster care. The Administrator says she keeps a file of cute things the kids say, as overheard and written down by the house parents. She reads in this file to lift her spirits when she's had a bad day.
My favorite goes like this. "Germs, germs germs. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. That's all I hear about in this place, and I ain't never seen either one of them"
Sir, we wish to see Jesus. Ain't it the truth.
Peace,
Delmo
I have never been any good at things like singing or playing a musical instrument or playing a sport beyond the sort of 8th grade level. Part of it is a lack of talent. But that's just part of it.
Another part of it is an unwillingness to practice, to go over and over the basic, rudimentary motions of any particular activity enough to get good at it. There were a couple of exceptions.
I could shoot a fairly consistent jump-shot in basketball and I became a pretty good contact hitter in baseball. But I was not a good player. I wouldn't work at it.
The same thing with singing. I had no natural talent or ear, but I could have learned to be more than adequate, but I wouldn't put in the dull, repetitous time necessary. Same thing for the guitar I bought and the piano lessons I signed up for.
I have been thinking about how it is that covenants get written on people's hearts and it seems to me that developing a right relationship with God and neighbour; learning to live life by Jesus' Great Commandments (e.g. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind. And the second is like unto it, love your neighbour as yourself.) is a lot like learning to play baseball or to sing; it's a matter of staying with the basics until they become a part of who you are.
One of the goals in sport is to make the regular activities such second nature that you quit thinking and just do it. To do that takes "practice." Which, it seems to me, might be why we talk about "practicing our religion." Could it be that covenants get written on our hearts through practicing the "unnatural acts" of unselfish and unconditional love toward others until they become second nature; i.e. are written on our hearts?
Hebrews 5:5-10 - In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him, and he was heard . . . ."What? He was heard? What do you mean "He was heard?" He was crucified wasn't he? He still got executed, didn't he? In what sense was his prayer heard?
When I was about 12, I was a Boy Scout. We met at the Community Building across the road from the Elementary School. Just down the road was the medical clinic. As often happens in a small place, one person wore many hats. Dr. Tulledge was the doctor at the Rural Clinic. He was also our Scoutmaster. And he was a lay preacher at the Presbyterian Church.
One night at Scouts we ran a race in the school parking lot. I fell, skidded on the asphalt and gravel and lodged a small pebble under the skin of my forehead. Dr. Tulledge left the troop under the care of some of the Dads and he and my Daddy took me down the road to the clinic to tend to my wound.
The Dr. was a good man and an adequate doctor, but he didn't have much of a bedside manner. He came at me with a huge needle to numb my forehead. When I squirmed, he threw one giant leg over my mid-section and held my arms down with his left arm. I looked at Daddy and started crying and yelling, DADDY, DADDY, DADDY, don't let him hurt me PLEASE Daddy.
DADY! DADDY! DADDY!
The Dr. inserted the needle while holding me down and then proceeded to grope around in my forehead with a pair of tweezers trying to get that little rock. It really, really hurt. I continued to cry and beg Daddy to make him stop. And just as I felt the rock move and then come out I saw my Daddy squeeze my jacket in his hands and let a tear slip slowly from his eye. It was the only time I remember seeing my Daddy cry.
DADDY! DADDY! DADDY! I was heard. And I was denied.
Jesus was heard. And he was denied. And "he learned obedience through what he suffered and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.
GOSPEL LESSON: John 12:20-33 "Sir we wish to see Jesus."
Afew years ago, they made a movie out of John Irving's novel "The Cider House Rules". It was set in an orphanage in Maine right after WWII. When the film was nominated for an Oscar, USA Today ran a story about the Connie Maxwell Home in Greenwood SC to see how orphanages had changed in half a century.
The Connie Maxwell home is run by the Baptists of South Carolina, and like most former orphanages now, deals mostly with children who have been removed from their homes and are awaiting foster care. The Administrator says she keeps a file of cute things the kids say, as overheard and written down by the house parents. She reads in this file to lift her spirits when she's had a bad day.
My favorite goes like this. "Germs, germs germs. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. That's all I hear about in this place, and I ain't never seen either one of them"
Sir, we wish to see Jesus. Ain't it the truth.
Peace,
Delmo
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Lent 4: RCL Texts for March 26, 2006
TITLE: Lift High the Cross
TEXTS: Numbers 21:4-9, Ephesians 2:1-10, John 3:14-21
A few years ago the SE Synod of the ELCA had its annual Synod Assembly in Nashville. At the time I was pastor of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church there and was on the “host” conference committee making arrangements for the meeting. My particular task was getting “gifts for the visiting “dignitaries”, i.e. the Bishop, The Lutheran Bishop of Singapore and Dr. Adie Butler, the head lay-person in the ELCA. At the committee meeting, I observed jokingly that this was going to be harder than it seemed, because I needed to buy gifts that were both tasteful AND reflective of Nashville culture. The chair of the committee remarked that I had, indeed been given an OXYMORONIC task.
I like that word oxymoron. It means expressing two contradictory things at the same time; like bittersweet or military intelligence or, some would say, Lutheran Humor. I have often thought that having a good grasp of the concept of an oxymoron is vital to understanding Christian Theology.
Is God oxymoronic? Does God express truths which are mutually contradictory?
As we read the Bible, we can find evidence for two quite different, even contradictory, pictures of God.
1) the first – Harsh, Judgmental, Strict, a god of law and punishment, of revenge and retribution, a god who keeps a careful tally of our sins and metes out appropriate penalties.
2) The second – Gentle, loving, forgiving, indulgent. A god who loves us with a prodigal, spendthrift love.
Each and every one of us has a mental picture of God, a picture shaped in part by the Biblical stories we have heard.
As we grow older, we begin to realize the contradictory, the oxymoronic nature of these stories and pictures.
And we begin to wonder, which is it? What is God really like?
Is God like the strait-lazed, self-righteous Commandant of a Military Academy, all rules and regulations and carefully calculated systems of demerits?
Or is God like your favorite Grandmother, all warm hugs and twinkly eyes, fresh-baked sugar cookies and a sympathetic ear?
Our lesson from Ephesians begins But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us . . . .reflecting the sweet, loving God.
But, just before that, in verse 3, Paul says we were by nature, children of wrath. Wrath as in the wrath of God, Wrath which would condemn us all to Hell.
Our Gospel lesson contains everybody’s favorite memory verse, For God so loved the world that he gave his only beloved Son . . . . a message of love and forgiveness.
But it also contains these words, words of judgment and wrath: Those who do not believe are condemned and . .
And this is the judgment, . . .people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.
The puzzle, the contradiction, the oxymoron, remains, weaving in and out of every story, sometimes every sentence of the Bible.
Take our Old Testament Reading. Let’s look at this strange story of Moses and the Bronze Serpent verse by verse. Notice how the “pictures”, the “images” of God alternate throughout:
1 – the People are in the Wilderness, having been liberated from slavery in Egypt:
PICTURE: God the Loving
2 – the Children of Israel complain and get impatient and start whining. (vs.4-5) God gets mad and sends fiery serpents that bite and kill (vs. 6).
PICTURE: God the Vengeful
3 – the people repent and ask for forgiveness (vs. 7) and God shows them mercy, provides a way of salvation, The bronze serpent of a pole:
PICTURE: God the Loving
In our Gospel lesson, this strange story of Moses and the Bronze Serpent is lifted up as a picture, an image of what Jesus the Christ is for us, Jesus the Fiery Serpent of God !
Jesus comes, first of all, as the judgment and wrath of God, pointing out and condemning the world’s sinfulness.
Jesus, far from being meek and mild, was often quite angry about sin, was often judgmental and harsh towards people he met. Just remember last week’s Gospel lesson about driving the money-changers out of the temple. Jesus was many things, but meek and mild were not two of them.
BUT, Christ is not only our judgment, but also our salvation:
Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved. . .”
The Son of man must be LIFTED UP!
The Son of Man must be CRUCIFIED!
The Son of man must DIE,
so that we may LIVE!
What a puzzle, what a contradiction, what an oxymoron,
what a mystery!
The Cross of Christ contains both God’s judgment on our sin, and God’s salvation from our sin.
Yet, God is not an oxymoron, God is amazingly consistent.
For God’s anger at our sin is the direct result of the love God has for us, his children, caught in the web of the world’s sin.
Sin pulls us down, Sin cuts us off from God and from each other, and worst of all, cuts us off from our true selves.
God’s hatred for is so great that God was willing to do anything to save us from it.
The greatest paradoxical, oxymoronic image of our faith is Christ upon the Cross. There, on the Cross, the Judgment of God AND the Love of God are revealed.
Sin is such an insidious and dangerous cancer on the soul of humanity that it must be dug out and destroyed. The Cross is radical surgery on the world’s cancer of Sin.
The mystery, the oxymoron, is that God is not only the surgeon, but in the form of Jesus the Christ, God becomes the patient for us all.
As the Scripture says, “He who knew no sin, became sin for us all . . .” going under the knife, in our place and on our behalf.
Several years ago, a young woman went into a jewelry store in a mall in Colorado Springs and asked to look at a cross. The clerk said,
Do you want a plain one, or one with a little man on it?
We cannot have the Cross without the Christ, nor can we have Christ without a Cross; it is the mysterious, oxymoronic truth which holds the story of God’s judgment and love together.
Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,
So must the Son of man be lifted up!
That whoever believes in him, May have eternal life. Amen.
TEXTS: Numbers 21:4-9, Ephesians 2:1-10, John 3:14-21
A few years ago the SE Synod of the ELCA had its annual Synod Assembly in Nashville. At the time I was pastor of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church there and was on the “host” conference committee making arrangements for the meeting. My particular task was getting “gifts for the visiting “dignitaries”, i.e. the Bishop, The Lutheran Bishop of Singapore and Dr. Adie Butler, the head lay-person in the ELCA. At the committee meeting, I observed jokingly that this was going to be harder than it seemed, because I needed to buy gifts that were both tasteful AND reflective of Nashville culture. The chair of the committee remarked that I had, indeed been given an OXYMORONIC task.
I like that word oxymoron. It means expressing two contradictory things at the same time; like bittersweet or military intelligence or, some would say, Lutheran Humor. I have often thought that having a good grasp of the concept of an oxymoron is vital to understanding Christian Theology.
Is God oxymoronic? Does God express truths which are mutually contradictory?
As we read the Bible, we can find evidence for two quite different, even contradictory, pictures of God.
1) the first – Harsh, Judgmental, Strict, a god of law and punishment, of revenge and retribution, a god who keeps a careful tally of our sins and metes out appropriate penalties.
2) The second – Gentle, loving, forgiving, indulgent. A god who loves us with a prodigal, spendthrift love.
Each and every one of us has a mental picture of God, a picture shaped in part by the Biblical stories we have heard.
As we grow older, we begin to realize the contradictory, the oxymoronic nature of these stories and pictures.
And we begin to wonder, which is it? What is God really like?
Is God like the strait-lazed, self-righteous Commandant of a Military Academy, all rules and regulations and carefully calculated systems of demerits?
Or is God like your favorite Grandmother, all warm hugs and twinkly eyes, fresh-baked sugar cookies and a sympathetic ear?
Our lesson from Ephesians begins But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us . . . .reflecting the sweet, loving God.
But, just before that, in verse 3, Paul says we were by nature, children of wrath. Wrath as in the wrath of God, Wrath which would condemn us all to Hell.
Our Gospel lesson contains everybody’s favorite memory verse, For God so loved the world that he gave his only beloved Son . . . . a message of love and forgiveness.
But it also contains these words, words of judgment and wrath: Those who do not believe are condemned and . .
And this is the judgment, . . .people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.
The puzzle, the contradiction, the oxymoron, remains, weaving in and out of every story, sometimes every sentence of the Bible.
Take our Old Testament Reading. Let’s look at this strange story of Moses and the Bronze Serpent verse by verse. Notice how the “pictures”, the “images” of God alternate throughout:
1 – the People are in the Wilderness, having been liberated from slavery in Egypt:
PICTURE: God the Loving
2 – the Children of Israel complain and get impatient and start whining. (vs.4-5) God gets mad and sends fiery serpents that bite and kill (vs. 6).
PICTURE: God the Vengeful
3 – the people repent and ask for forgiveness (vs. 7) and God shows them mercy, provides a way of salvation, The bronze serpent of a pole:
PICTURE: God the Loving
In our Gospel lesson, this strange story of Moses and the Bronze Serpent is lifted up as a picture, an image of what Jesus the Christ is for us, Jesus the Fiery Serpent of God !
Jesus comes, first of all, as the judgment and wrath of God, pointing out and condemning the world’s sinfulness.
Jesus, far from being meek and mild, was often quite angry about sin, was often judgmental and harsh towards people he met. Just remember last week’s Gospel lesson about driving the money-changers out of the temple. Jesus was many things, but meek and mild were not two of them.
BUT, Christ is not only our judgment, but also our salvation:
Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved. . .”
The Son of man must be LIFTED UP!
The Son of Man must be CRUCIFIED!
The Son of man must DIE,
so that we may LIVE!
What a puzzle, what a contradiction, what an oxymoron,
what a mystery!
The Cross of Christ contains both God’s judgment on our sin, and God’s salvation from our sin.
Yet, God is not an oxymoron, God is amazingly consistent.
For God’s anger at our sin is the direct result of the love God has for us, his children, caught in the web of the world’s sin.
Sin pulls us down, Sin cuts us off from God and from each other, and worst of all, cuts us off from our true selves.
God’s hatred for is so great that God was willing to do anything to save us from it.
The greatest paradoxical, oxymoronic image of our faith is Christ upon the Cross. There, on the Cross, the Judgment of God AND the Love of God are revealed.
Sin is such an insidious and dangerous cancer on the soul of humanity that it must be dug out and destroyed. The Cross is radical surgery on the world’s cancer of Sin.
The mystery, the oxymoron, is that God is not only the surgeon, but in the form of Jesus the Christ, God becomes the patient for us all.
As the Scripture says, “He who knew no sin, became sin for us all . . .” going under the knife, in our place and on our behalf.
Several years ago, a young woman went into a jewelry store in a mall in Colorado Springs and asked to look at a cross. The clerk said,
Do you want a plain one, or one with a little man on it?
We cannot have the Cross without the Christ, nor can we have Christ without a Cross; it is the mysterious, oxymoronic truth which holds the story of God’s judgment and love together.
Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,
So must the Son of man be lifted up!
That whoever believes in him, May have eternal life. Amen.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
LENT 3: RCL texts for March 19, 2006
FIRST READING: Exodus 20:1-17: The Ten Commandments. Or is it Eleven. Or Nine. Depends on whose counting, doesn't it. Well, I was looking them over and trying to figure out which ones I hadn't broken; at least not in the STRICTEST, most LITERAL sense.
No other Gods - Nope. No Baal or Fertility Cult worship going on in the Chilton household.
No graven image - Nope. No bowing down to a man-made object that's not a God.
Not taking the Lord's Name in Vain - Nope. Well, I do have a barn-yard vocabulary but I draw the line at G-- D---.
Remember Sabbath Day - Nope. Always go to church on Sunday, seldom work.
Honor parents - Nope. Birthday cards, weekly phone calls, Christmas gifts. Done.
You shall not kill - Nope. Never even been in a fight since 7th grade.
You shall not steal - Nope. Unless you count sneaking fries off Deborah's plate when she's not looking.
You shall not bear false witness - Nope. Like Daddy said, always tell the truth. That way you don't have to remember what you said.
You shall not covet,neighbor's house, wife, slaves of his ox or his ass - Nope. Good on all of them.
Looks like I'm in the clear. Based on this record, I didn't need Jesus to die for me. I've got the being good thing covered.
On the other hand, if Other Gods means things which get more of my attention and loyalty than THE GOD, then I'm probably guilty.
And if Graven Images implies earthly things to which I have devoted a great deal of time and energy and which are the most important things in my home, well . . .
Suppose taking the Lord's name in vain means using religion for less than holy reasons, oops!
And the Sabbath could be about creating enough silence and space in my life to allow God to seep in and nurture and lead and refresh me. Oh my!
Honoring father and mother may have something to say about how I deal with those who have taken on the responsibility for leadership; have I been responsive and cooperative? Dang!
Well, I really haven't killed anyone; but I haven't prevented or protested a lot of the violence which goes on in my name, funded by my dollars.
Adultery? Well there is that Lust in the Heart thing.
You shall not steal? What was it Augustine said, anything you have more than you need is stolen from the poor. Ouch!
False Witness? I do not lie, but I can "spin" like a whirling dervish.
Okay, I still haven't coveted anybody's ass and nobody can say I did!
SECOND LESSON: I Corinthians 1:18-25 : verse 25 "For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom and God's weakness is stronger than human strength."
The paradoxical nature of the Gospel is still very hard for most of us to grasp. Just like last week's Gospel lesson with the lose life/save life vice-versa pairings; this wisdom/foolishness thing goes against the grain of "real" life.
We think that "winning", "succeeding", is important; and the way to win, to succeed, is to be smart and strong and force one's will and to come out on top.
But we are confronted with the cross, which shows God losing, failing, looking "foolish" and weak and coming out on the bottom. And it makes no sense.
Which is why, I suppose, we so often dart immediately from the cross to the empty tomb, turning tragedy into triumph as quickly as possible. We do not wish to linger near the death of God too long; it is a frightening and lonely place which causes us great anxiety.
A couple of years ago I did a Lenten Lecture series in a moderate Baptist Church in a University town in the South. I spoke each day on different aspects of Luther's Theology of the Cross. On Palm Sunday/Passion Sunday, I preached about the Theology of the Cross and encouraged the congregation to hold on to the sadness and dismay of the cross for a few days, to linger in the mystery of the death of God for us.
A local Baptist Association official was in attendance that day, and in good Baptist tradition, the pastor asked him to give the benediction. The good reverend proceeded correct my sermon in his prayer, reminding God (and the people) that Jesus had indeed been raised from the dead and we can be assured of that.
We have indeed, turned the Weakness of God into the Power of the Cross. We have to be careful here. God's weakness is strong, but it is still weakness and we must resist the temptation to turn it into another avenue or technique for success.
In a classic scene from Huck Finn, Huck embraces damnation rather than rejecting his friend Jim. If Huck had thought of it in terms of a wise way of earning salvation, it would not have been a salvific silliness. It was only because he embraced damnation as the cost of doing the right thing, accepted suffering as the cost of righteousness; that we can then say he was saved.
Peace,
Delmo
No other Gods - Nope. No Baal or Fertility Cult worship going on in the Chilton household.
No graven image - Nope. No bowing down to a man-made object that's not a God.
Not taking the Lord's Name in Vain - Nope. Well, I do have a barn-yard vocabulary but I draw the line at G-- D---.
Remember Sabbath Day - Nope. Always go to church on Sunday, seldom work.
Honor parents - Nope. Birthday cards, weekly phone calls, Christmas gifts. Done.
You shall not kill - Nope. Never even been in a fight since 7th grade.
You shall not steal - Nope. Unless you count sneaking fries off Deborah's plate when she's not looking.
You shall not bear false witness - Nope. Like Daddy said, always tell the truth. That way you don't have to remember what you said.
You shall not covet,neighbor's house, wife, slaves of his ox or his ass - Nope. Good on all of them.
Looks like I'm in the clear. Based on this record, I didn't need Jesus to die for me. I've got the being good thing covered.
On the other hand, if Other Gods means things which get more of my attention and loyalty than THE GOD, then I'm probably guilty.
And if Graven Images implies earthly things to which I have devoted a great deal of time and energy and which are the most important things in my home, well . . .
Suppose taking the Lord's name in vain means using religion for less than holy reasons, oops!
And the Sabbath could be about creating enough silence and space in my life to allow God to seep in and nurture and lead and refresh me. Oh my!
Honoring father and mother may have something to say about how I deal with those who have taken on the responsibility for leadership; have I been responsive and cooperative? Dang!
Well, I really haven't killed anyone; but I haven't prevented or protested a lot of the violence which goes on in my name, funded by my dollars.
Adultery? Well there is that Lust in the Heart thing.
You shall not steal? What was it Augustine said, anything you have more than you need is stolen from the poor. Ouch!
False Witness? I do not lie, but I can "spin" like a whirling dervish.
Okay, I still haven't coveted anybody's ass and nobody can say I did!
SECOND LESSON: I Corinthians 1:18-25 : verse 25 "For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom and God's weakness is stronger than human strength."
The paradoxical nature of the Gospel is still very hard for most of us to grasp. Just like last week's Gospel lesson with the lose life/save life vice-versa pairings; this wisdom/foolishness thing goes against the grain of "real" life.
We think that "winning", "succeeding", is important; and the way to win, to succeed, is to be smart and strong and force one's will and to come out on top.
But we are confronted with the cross, which shows God losing, failing, looking "foolish" and weak and coming out on the bottom. And it makes no sense.
Which is why, I suppose, we so often dart immediately from the cross to the empty tomb, turning tragedy into triumph as quickly as possible. We do not wish to linger near the death of God too long; it is a frightening and lonely place which causes us great anxiety.
A couple of years ago I did a Lenten Lecture series in a moderate Baptist Church in a University town in the South. I spoke each day on different aspects of Luther's Theology of the Cross. On Palm Sunday/Passion Sunday, I preached about the Theology of the Cross and encouraged the congregation to hold on to the sadness and dismay of the cross for a few days, to linger in the mystery of the death of God for us.
A local Baptist Association official was in attendance that day, and in good Baptist tradition, the pastor asked him to give the benediction. The good reverend proceeded correct my sermon in his prayer, reminding God (and the people) that Jesus had indeed been raised from the dead and we can be assured of that.
We have indeed, turned the Weakness of God into the Power of the Cross. We have to be careful here. God's weakness is strong, but it is still weakness and we must resist the temptation to turn it into another avenue or technique for success.
In a classic scene from Huck Finn, Huck embraces damnation rather than rejecting his friend Jim. If Huck had thought of it in terms of a wise way of earning salvation, it would not have been a salvific silliness. It was only because he embraced damnation as the cost of doing the right thing, accepted suffering as the cost of righteousness; that we can then say he was saved.
Peace,
Delmo
Thursday, March 09, 2006
THE SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT: RCL texts for March 12, 2006
FIRST READING: GENESIS 17:1-7, 15-16: verse 5 "No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have mad eyou the father of a multitude of nations." and verse 15: "As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name..."
Names are funny things. Some people fit their names, others don't. Some years ago I did what used to be called a "shotgun wedding", the young woman was about 17, the groom was 19. The wedding was on a Saturday afternoon at the church, with the full membership and both families. There was no real animosity from anyone. Getting pregnant and then "doing the right thing" was an accepted idea in that rural community. About 5 months after the wedding, the baby was born. The parents named it Chastity, after Sonny and Cher's baby. They obviously didn't have a clue what the word meant. Which raises the question: if Sonny and Cher named their baby Chastity as an ironic comment, then did this young couple inadvertently follow suit, or did they just not know? I know the couple and I'm voting for option #2.
I'm not sure if parents are aware of the power that giving a name can bestow. I remember the Johnny Cash song, "A Boy Named Sue", believe you me, even in the South a name like Delmer is tough, especially during the Junior High years. I tried to go by D.L. in High School, but my older brother put a stop to that by shouting DELMER everytime he saw me, much to the amusement of his friends. So, Delmer I was.
It's also a tough name for non-Southereners to respect. One of my parishioners in Highlands emailed a medical school friend in Boston that she had a new pastor and gave my name. The person wrote back, "Oh my God, it's worse than I thought, you're in the NC mountains and you have a pastor named DELMER."
Names have power. And what we call each other and what we call God and what God calls us are powerful things. We have a tendency in the post-modern world to think that things like names and labels are mostly matters of indifference, of perspective. We live in a world of shifting meanings, a world of "thinking by public opinion poll", "what's hot and what's not" is more important to many folks than "what's true and what's not".
In such a world, it is important to inject some timeless reality. Abram and Sarai's name changes were part of a one time shift in their relationship to God and God's relationship with them, and Israel and ultimately with all the peoples of the world. This was not a thing done lightly, done for more popularity or propriety or coolness or hotness or whateverness. This name change signalled a different covenant, a defferent relationship, a personal, first-name basis relationship with God.
This is why naming cermonies are so important in all religions, especially the Judeo-Christian Tradition. It is a time of Covenant, a time to seal the relationship between the named parties:
"Delmer Lowell Chilton I baptize you in the NAME of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."
It's not the name I would have chosen for myself, and I have dickered with it over the years, but ultimately, I have grown into it, and it suits me: both the Delmer Lowell Chilton part and the Father, Son and Holy Spirit part.
SECOND READING: ROMANS 4:13-25: "fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised."
Two old preacher stories, one true, one an old chestnut.
TRUE ONE: Back in the thirities or forties there was a major drought in the Rowan County NC area. The area Lutherans, of whom there were many, decided to have a prayer meeting to pray for rain. It was held in Concordia Lutheran Church, out between China Grove and Mooresville. My memory is fuzzy here, I can't remember which stern old Lutheran "Herr Pastor" it was who got up and asked everyone to show their umbrellas. Nobody did. "What!?" he exclaimed, "No umbrellas! Then you have no faith. Go home and come back tomoorow and bring your umbrellas; then we will pray for rain."
OLD ONE: There was a drought in South Georgia. The members of a time church gathered for a prayer meeting. The next day a Hurricane hit. There was massive flooding. The little church was seen floating on the river. The pastor was holding to the steeple shouting: Not bad for a little church!"
GOSPEL READING: Mark 8:31-38 ""For what does it gain a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?' (RSV)
In a recent edition of LEADERSHIP magazine, a story was told about Ray Romano, the star of the hit comedy, EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND. When the opportunity came to do the show, he was making a decent living as a stand-up comedian in NY, but he was neither rich nor famous. On the day he packed to move to Hollywood to do the show, his brother pinned a note to some clothes in his suitcase.
After the taping of the last show of EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND's long succesful run,
Ray Romano came out and talked to the studio audience. He told them about his brother's note and read it to them. It said, "WHAT DOES IT PROFIT A MAN TO GAIN THE WHOLE WORLD AND LOSE HIS SOUL?"
A tearful Ray Romano looked out at the audience, "I'm going now, to work on my soul."
Lent is a time for soul work. I wish Mr. Romano well. Soul work is hard work, for all of us. May we all be about the business of working on our souls.
Peace,
Delmo
Names are funny things. Some people fit their names, others don't. Some years ago I did what used to be called a "shotgun wedding", the young woman was about 17, the groom was 19. The wedding was on a Saturday afternoon at the church, with the full membership and both families. There was no real animosity from anyone. Getting pregnant and then "doing the right thing" was an accepted idea in that rural community. About 5 months after the wedding, the baby was born. The parents named it Chastity, after Sonny and Cher's baby. They obviously didn't have a clue what the word meant. Which raises the question: if Sonny and Cher named their baby Chastity as an ironic comment, then did this young couple inadvertently follow suit, or did they just not know? I know the couple and I'm voting for option #2.
I'm not sure if parents are aware of the power that giving a name can bestow. I remember the Johnny Cash song, "A Boy Named Sue", believe you me, even in the South a name like Delmer is tough, especially during the Junior High years. I tried to go by D.L. in High School, but my older brother put a stop to that by shouting DELMER everytime he saw me, much to the amusement of his friends. So, Delmer I was.
It's also a tough name for non-Southereners to respect. One of my parishioners in Highlands emailed a medical school friend in Boston that she had a new pastor and gave my name. The person wrote back, "Oh my God, it's worse than I thought, you're in the NC mountains and you have a pastor named DELMER."
Names have power. And what we call each other and what we call God and what God calls us are powerful things. We have a tendency in the post-modern world to think that things like names and labels are mostly matters of indifference, of perspective. We live in a world of shifting meanings, a world of "thinking by public opinion poll", "what's hot and what's not" is more important to many folks than "what's true and what's not".
In such a world, it is important to inject some timeless reality. Abram and Sarai's name changes were part of a one time shift in their relationship to God and God's relationship with them, and Israel and ultimately with all the peoples of the world. This was not a thing done lightly, done for more popularity or propriety or coolness or hotness or whateverness. This name change signalled a different covenant, a defferent relationship, a personal, first-name basis relationship with God.
This is why naming cermonies are so important in all religions, especially the Judeo-Christian Tradition. It is a time of Covenant, a time to seal the relationship between the named parties:
"Delmer Lowell Chilton I baptize you in the NAME of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."
It's not the name I would have chosen for myself, and I have dickered with it over the years, but ultimately, I have grown into it, and it suits me: both the Delmer Lowell Chilton part and the Father, Son and Holy Spirit part.
SECOND READING: ROMANS 4:13-25: "fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised."
Two old preacher stories, one true, one an old chestnut.
TRUE ONE: Back in the thirities or forties there was a major drought in the Rowan County NC area. The area Lutherans, of whom there were many, decided to have a prayer meeting to pray for rain. It was held in Concordia Lutheran Church, out between China Grove and Mooresville. My memory is fuzzy here, I can't remember which stern old Lutheran "Herr Pastor" it was who got up and asked everyone to show their umbrellas. Nobody did. "What!?" he exclaimed, "No umbrellas! Then you have no faith. Go home and come back tomoorow and bring your umbrellas; then we will pray for rain."
OLD ONE: There was a drought in South Georgia. The members of a time church gathered for a prayer meeting. The next day a Hurricane hit. There was massive flooding. The little church was seen floating on the river. The pastor was holding to the steeple shouting: Not bad for a little church!"
GOSPEL READING: Mark 8:31-38 ""For what does it gain a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?' (RSV)
In a recent edition of LEADERSHIP magazine, a story was told about Ray Romano, the star of the hit comedy, EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND. When the opportunity came to do the show, he was making a decent living as a stand-up comedian in NY, but he was neither rich nor famous. On the day he packed to move to Hollywood to do the show, his brother pinned a note to some clothes in his suitcase.
After the taping of the last show of EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND's long succesful run,
Ray Romano came out and talked to the studio audience. He told them about his brother's note and read it to them. It said, "WHAT DOES IT PROFIT A MAN TO GAIN THE WHOLE WORLD AND LOSE HIS SOUL?"
A tearful Ray Romano looked out at the audience, "I'm going now, to work on my soul."
Lent is a time for soul work. I wish Mr. Romano well. Soul work is hard work, for all of us. May we all be about the business of working on our souls.
Peace,
Delmo
THE SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT: RCL texts for March 12, 2006
FIRST READING: GENESIS 17:1-7, 15-16: verse 5 "No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have mad eyou the father of a multitude of nations." and verse 15: "As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name..."
Names are funny things. Some people fit their names, others don't. Some years ago I did what used to be called a "shotgun wedding", the young woman was about 17, the groom was 19. The wedding was on a Saturday afternoon at the church, with the full membership and both families. There was no real animosity from anyone. Getting pregnant and then "doing the right thing" was an accepted idea in that rural community. About 5 months after the wedding, the baby was born. The parents named it Chastity, after Sonny and Cher's baby. They obviously didn't have a clue what the word meant. Which raises the question: if Sonny and Cher named their baby Chastity as an ironic comment, then did this young couple inadvertently follow suit, or did they just not know? I know the couple and I'm voting for option #2.
I'm not sure if parents are aware of the power that giving a name can bestow. I remember the Johnny Cash song, "A Boy Named Sue", believe you me, even in the South a name like Delmer is tough, especially during the Junior High years. I tried to go by D.L. in High School, but my older brother put a stop to that by shouting DELMER everytime he saw me, much to the amusement of his friends. So, Delmer I was.
It's also a tough name for non-Southereners to respect. One of my parishioners in Highlands emailed a medical school friend in Boston that she had a new pastor and gave my name. The person wrote back, "Oh my God, it's worse than I thought, you're in the NC mountains and you have a pastor named DELMER."
Names have power. And what we call each other and what we call God and what God calls us are powerful things. We have a tendency in the post-modern world to think that things like names and labels are mostly matters of indifference, of perspective. We live in a world of shifting meanings, a world of "thinking by public opinion poll", "what's hot and what's not" is more important to many folks than "what's true and what's not".
In such a world, it is important to inject some timeless reality. Abram and Sarai's name changes were part of a one time shift in their relationship to God and God's relationship with them, and Israel and ultimately with all the peoples of the world. This was not a thing done lightly, done for more popularity or propriety or coolness or hotness or whateverness. This name change signalled a different covenant, a defferent relationship, a personal, first-name basis relationship with God.
This is why naming cermonies are so important in all religions, especially the Judeo-Christian Tradition. It is a time of Covenant, a time to seal the relationship between the named parties:
"Delmer Lowell Chilton I baptize you in the NAME of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."
It's not the name I would have chosen for myself, and I have dickered with it over the years, but ultimately, I have grown into it, and it suits me: both the Delmer Lowell Chilton part and the Father, Son and Holy Spirit part.
SECOND READING: ROMANS 4:13-25: "fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised."
Two old preacher stories, one true, one an old chestnut.
TRUE ONE: Back in the thirities or forties there was a major drought in the Rowan County NC area. The area Lutherans, of whom there were many, decided to have a prayer meeting to pray for rain. It was held in Concordia Lutheran Church, out between China Grove and Mooresville. My memory is fuzzy here, I can't remember which stern old Lutheran "Herr Pastor" it was who got up and asked everyone to show their umbrellas. Nobody did. "What!?" he exclaimed, "No umbrellas! Then you have no faith. Go home and come back tomoorow and bring your umbrellas; then we will pray for rain."
OLD ONE: There was a drought in South Georgia. The members of a time church gathered for a prayer meeting. The next day a Hurricane hit. There was massive flooding. The little church was seen floating on the river. The pastor was holding to the steeple shouting: Not bad for a little church!"
GOSPEL READING: Mark 8:31-38 ""For what does it gain a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?' (RSV)
In a recent edition of LEADERSHIP magazine, a story was told about Ray Romano, the star of the hit comedy, EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND. When the opportunity came to do the show, he was making a decent living as a stand-up comedian in NY, but he was neither rich nor famous. On the day he packed to move to Hollywood to do the show, his brother pinned a note to some clothes in his suitcase.
After the taping of the last show of EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND's long succesful run,
Ray Romano came out and talked to the studio audience. He told them about his brother's note and read it to them. It said, "WHAT DOES IT PROFIT A MAN TO GAIN THE WHOLE WORLD AND LOSE HIS SOUL?"
A tearful Ray Romano looked out at the audience, "I'm going now, to work on my soul."
Lent is a time for soul work. I wish Mr. Romano well. Soul work is hard work, for all of us. May we all be about the business of working on our souls.
Peace,
Delmo
Names are funny things. Some people fit their names, others don't. Some years ago I did what used to be called a "shotgun wedding", the young woman was about 17, the groom was 19. The wedding was on a Saturday afternoon at the church, with the full membership and both families. There was no real animosity from anyone. Getting pregnant and then "doing the right thing" was an accepted idea in that rural community. About 5 months after the wedding, the baby was born. The parents named it Chastity, after Sonny and Cher's baby. They obviously didn't have a clue what the word meant. Which raises the question: if Sonny and Cher named their baby Chastity as an ironic comment, then did this young couple inadvertently follow suit, or did they just not know? I know the couple and I'm voting for option #2.
I'm not sure if parents are aware of the power that giving a name can bestow. I remember the Johnny Cash song, "A Boy Named Sue", believe you me, even in the South a name like Delmer is tough, especially during the Junior High years. I tried to go by D.L. in High School, but my older brother put a stop to that by shouting DELMER everytime he saw me, much to the amusement of his friends. So, Delmer I was.
It's also a tough name for non-Southereners to respect. One of my parishioners in Highlands emailed a medical school friend in Boston that she had a new pastor and gave my name. The person wrote back, "Oh my God, it's worse than I thought, you're in the NC mountains and you have a pastor named DELMER."
Names have power. And what we call each other and what we call God and what God calls us are powerful things. We have a tendency in the post-modern world to think that things like names and labels are mostly matters of indifference, of perspective. We live in a world of shifting meanings, a world of "thinking by public opinion poll", "what's hot and what's not" is more important to many folks than "what's true and what's not".
In such a world, it is important to inject some timeless reality. Abram and Sarai's name changes were part of a one time shift in their relationship to God and God's relationship with them, and Israel and ultimately with all the peoples of the world. This was not a thing done lightly, done for more popularity or propriety or coolness or hotness or whateverness. This name change signalled a different covenant, a defferent relationship, a personal, first-name basis relationship with God.
This is why naming cermonies are so important in all religions, especially the Judeo-Christian Tradition. It is a time of Covenant, a time to seal the relationship between the named parties:
"Delmer Lowell Chilton I baptize you in the NAME of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."
It's not the name I would have chosen for myself, and I have dickered with it over the years, but ultimately, I have grown into it, and it suits me: both the Delmer Lowell Chilton part and the Father, Son and Holy Spirit part.
SECOND READING: ROMANS 4:13-25: "fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised."
Two old preacher stories, one true, one an old chestnut.
TRUE ONE: Back in the thirities or forties there was a major drought in the Rowan County NC area. The area Lutherans, of whom there were many, decided to have a prayer meeting to pray for rain. It was held in Concordia Lutheran Church, out between China Grove and Mooresville. My memory is fuzzy here, I can't remember which stern old Lutheran "Herr Pastor" it was who got up and asked everyone to show their umbrellas. Nobody did. "What!?" he exclaimed, "No umbrellas! Then you have no faith. Go home and come back tomoorow and bring your umbrellas; then we will pray for rain."
OLD ONE: There was a drought in South Georgia. The members of a time church gathered for a prayer meeting. The next day a Hurricane hit. There was massive flooding. The little church was seen floating on the river. The pastor was holding to the steeple shouting: Not bad for a little church!"
GOSPEL READING: Mark 8:31-38 ""For what does it gain a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?' (RSV)
In a recent edition of LEADERSHIP magazine, a story was told about Ray Romano, the star of the hit comedy, EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND. When the opportunity came to do the show, he was making a decent living as a stand-up comedian in NY, but he was neither rich nor famous. On the day he packed to move to Hollywood to do the show, his brother pinned a note to some clothes in his suitcase.
After the taping of the last show of EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND's long succesful run,
Ray Romano came out and talked to the studio audience. He told them about his brother's note and read it to them. It said, "WHAT DOES IT PROFIT A MAN TO GAIN THE WHOLE WORLD AND LOSE HIS SOUL?"
A tearful Ray Romano looked out at the audience, "I'm going now, to work on my soul."
Lent is a time for soul work. I wish Mr. Romano well. Soul work is hard work, for all of us. May we all be about the business of working on our souls.
Peace,
Delmo
Friday, March 03, 2006
FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT: Gospel lesson for March 5
GOSPEL: Mark 1:9-15 : Eugene Peterson, in the Message, translates the last line as : "Time's up! God's Kingdom is here. Change your life and believe the message!"
It the "time's up" that got me. I am an inveterate procrastinator. I wait until the last minute on almost everything. In college, I pulled all-nighters to write term papers. When I became a pastor, I wrote sermons on Saturday night, (and on Sunday morning!) For years, I have done my taxes on April 15, driving around late at night, looking for an open Post Office.
So the words, "Time's UP!" send a chill down my spine. And I think that one of the things that ails me and us in the life of the church is that we have very little sense of urgency about the gospel or the church. After all, its been 2000 years and Jesus hasn't come back yet, so why worry?
But really, a better question is what are we waiting for? A sign from heaven? Already had one, his name is Jesus. What are we waiting for? Clear instructions on what to do? Already got those. Love God with heart, mind and soul and the second is just like it, love your neighbor as yourself? What are we waiting for? Don't have enough time? We've got all the time we need; from this moment until the day we die, and then really and for sure, it will be Time's Up!
Peace,
delmo
It the "time's up" that got me. I am an inveterate procrastinator. I wait until the last minute on almost everything. In college, I pulled all-nighters to write term papers. When I became a pastor, I wrote sermons on Saturday night, (and on Sunday morning!) For years, I have done my taxes on April 15, driving around late at night, looking for an open Post Office.
So the words, "Time's UP!" send a chill down my spine. And I think that one of the things that ails me and us in the life of the church is that we have very little sense of urgency about the gospel or the church. After all, its been 2000 years and Jesus hasn't come back yet, so why worry?
But really, a better question is what are we waiting for? A sign from heaven? Already had one, his name is Jesus. What are we waiting for? Clear instructions on what to do? Already got those. Love God with heart, mind and soul and the second is just like it, love your neighbor as yourself? What are we waiting for? Don't have enough time? We've got all the time we need; from this moment until the day we die, and then really and for sure, it will be Time's Up!
Peace,
delmo
Thursday, February 23, 2006
TRANSFIGURATION: RCL Texts for Feb. 26, 2006
FIRST READING AND GOSPEL: 2Kings 2:1-12/Mark 9:2-9 - The Assumption of Elijah - at least that's what I call it. I was reading Marcus Borg and N.T. Wright's book on Jesus this week and in it Borg made reference to history remembered and history metaphorized. It was a distinction which resonated with me. If you've read much of this blog, you realize that history metaphorized (or more correctly personal story metaphorized) is my stock in trade.
so I'm assuming there is an actual historical, real and remembered moment underneath the Elijah Assumption story (which is why I call it the Assumption of Elijah). I also assume that figuring out the actual "facticity" of that moment is nigh unto impossible.
What we have is the history metaphorized and the question is why has the story of Elijah going off to heaven in a golden Chariot had such staying power within Judaism and what significance does it have for Christianity.
The same thing applies to the Transfiguration. Something happened, nobody made it up. But what really happened, the exact facts, "history remembered" is unavailable to us. There are all sorts of "reasonable" (or not) speculations, but no way of knowing for sure.
So why this story? Beyond what "really" happened, what do these stories tell us about God and what do they tell us about us and our life of faith?
Two things come to mind:
1) There are peak experiences in the spiritual life; they do happen, and here's the point, we can never predict, create nor repeat them. We don't know when they might happen, we can't do anything to make them happen, and we can't do everything the same as we did last time and make them happen again. they happen when God wants them to happen, they happen when God's grace descends on us as it wills. Our liturgical and homiletical contrivance may be able to simulate a similar experience, but such a thing will always be counterfeit to the real experience.
2) Spiritual highs come and go, but the real spiritual life is lived in the ordinary day-to-day round. In the first 8 chapters of Mark, Jesus goes off alone to pray 5 times. The first was the temptations in the wilderness, not exactly a "high". 4 other times in the first 8 chapters, Jesus goes off to pray, and each time nothing happens. Well sort of nothing. He gets interrupted a lot. "Hey Jesus people are looking for you." But in none of the "go off alone and pray" episodes did Jesus change form or hear heavenly voices. He just prayed and that's the point. The first 8 chapters of Mark, tell the story of Jesus going about his business of preaching and teaching and healing, with times of synagogue worship and private prayer. This was his life. Long periods of ordinariness with only an occasional moment of luminosity.
Dr. BS Brown was pastor of Lutheran Chapel in China Grove, NC from 1945 to 1960. I was pastor there from 1984-1985. I found one of his old, hand-written sermons in the archives. It was about his first car, which he got in 1920, while pastoring near Johnson City, TN. deep in the Smokey Mountains.
He talks about going on a trip to Knoxville. Often times he had to drive along in creek beds because there was no road, backing up hills because his Model-T had a gravity feed fuel system, etc. Occasionally, he would top a moutain at night and he could see the lights of Knoxville off in the distance, but most of the time was spent in the valleys in the darkness. Dr. Brown compared this to our lives of faith. We catch occasional glimpses of the Holy, but its mostly plodding through the dark and shadowed valleys.
The presence of God, is, I think, mostly a matter of perception, of awareness that God is indeed with us, not only in the moments of high feeling and intense spirit, but also through the yawning valleys of life. It is a matter of perceiving God's presence in the ordinary things we do, of looking for God's hand in the simplest of circumstances.
Peace,
Delmo
so I'm assuming there is an actual historical, real and remembered moment underneath the Elijah Assumption story (which is why I call it the Assumption of Elijah). I also assume that figuring out the actual "facticity" of that moment is nigh unto impossible.
What we have is the history metaphorized and the question is why has the story of Elijah going off to heaven in a golden Chariot had such staying power within Judaism and what significance does it have for Christianity.
The same thing applies to the Transfiguration. Something happened, nobody made it up. But what really happened, the exact facts, "history remembered" is unavailable to us. There are all sorts of "reasonable" (or not) speculations, but no way of knowing for sure.
So why this story? Beyond what "really" happened, what do these stories tell us about God and what do they tell us about us and our life of faith?
Two things come to mind:
1) There are peak experiences in the spiritual life; they do happen, and here's the point, we can never predict, create nor repeat them. We don't know when they might happen, we can't do anything to make them happen, and we can't do everything the same as we did last time and make them happen again. they happen when God wants them to happen, they happen when God's grace descends on us as it wills. Our liturgical and homiletical contrivance may be able to simulate a similar experience, but such a thing will always be counterfeit to the real experience.
2) Spiritual highs come and go, but the real spiritual life is lived in the ordinary day-to-day round. In the first 8 chapters of Mark, Jesus goes off alone to pray 5 times. The first was the temptations in the wilderness, not exactly a "high". 4 other times in the first 8 chapters, Jesus goes off to pray, and each time nothing happens. Well sort of nothing. He gets interrupted a lot. "Hey Jesus people are looking for you." But in none of the "go off alone and pray" episodes did Jesus change form or hear heavenly voices. He just prayed and that's the point. The first 8 chapters of Mark, tell the story of Jesus going about his business of preaching and teaching and healing, with times of synagogue worship and private prayer. This was his life. Long periods of ordinariness with only an occasional moment of luminosity.
Dr. BS Brown was pastor of Lutheran Chapel in China Grove, NC from 1945 to 1960. I was pastor there from 1984-1985. I found one of his old, hand-written sermons in the archives. It was about his first car, which he got in 1920, while pastoring near Johnson City, TN. deep in the Smokey Mountains.
He talks about going on a trip to Knoxville. Often times he had to drive along in creek beds because there was no road, backing up hills because his Model-T had a gravity feed fuel system, etc. Occasionally, he would top a moutain at night and he could see the lights of Knoxville off in the distance, but most of the time was spent in the valleys in the darkness. Dr. Brown compared this to our lives of faith. We catch occasional glimpses of the Holy, but its mostly plodding through the dark and shadowed valleys.
The presence of God, is, I think, mostly a matter of perception, of awareness that God is indeed with us, not only in the moments of high feeling and intense spirit, but also through the yawning valleys of life. It is a matter of perceiving God's presence in the ordinary things we do, of looking for God's hand in the simplest of circumstances.
Peace,
Delmo
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Epiphany 6: RCL Texts for February 12, 2006
FIRST READING - 2 Kings 5:1-14; "Father, if the prophet had commanded you do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more when all he said to you was, 'Wash, and be clean'"
Most of the sermons I heard as a child at Slate Mountain Missionary Baptist Church were less than memorable. No, let me rephrase that, they were all alike, so once you knew it, you couldn't forget it, even if you wanted to. As I wrote in a very angry autobiographical essay for a class at Duke, "no matter where the sermon started it took a detour through Hell and ended up at the foot of the cross."
But there was one Sermon, one Sunday, that has stayed with me for along time, proably 45+ years now. Charlie Simmons was the grandfather of my childhood friend Billy Simmons and Charlie was a Baptist preacher. He was preaching at Slate Mountain that day, though he was not the pastor. It must have been Homecoming. It was some special occasion, because the children sang a song, and we didn't normally have a children's choir.
After we sang, we all sat together on the front row. Mr. Charlie began to preach, maybe on this text. In the midst of his sermon, he walked out to the edge of the platform and held out a quarter to us, the children on the front row. He looked down at us with his kindly blue eyes underneath a shock of white hair, and invited any one of us who wanted the quarter to get up and get it. All we had to do, he said, was get up and come and get it. It was very tempting.
25 cents was a lot of money to a 7 year old back in 1963. I wanted the money, we all did. But, there had to be a catch. It couldn't be that easy. And our parents might get mad at us for being greedy. "it's okay" Mr. Charlie said, "nobody will get upset with you," he smiled, as if reading our minds.
But we couldn't do it. We sat there, hungrily desirous of that quarter, but unable to move, sitting forward, straining to get up, but feeling as though we were glued to that pew.
Mr. Charlie went on to talk about how God's grace in our lives is right there for us, but we would rather earn it. If God said swim the Atlantic and you'll go to heaven, we'd try it. If God said, Climb Mount Everest and you will receive perfect peace, we'd give it a shot, Mr. Charlie preached. But we think that God's offer of Grace in our lives is too easy, too simple, not important enough, he said. And so, like these children, we sit and yearn, and do nothing.
I've thought of that sermon often over the years. I have tried to make living in God's Grace much harder than it is, I think. I have studied and prayed and tried to be good. Because it couldn't be as simple as trusting that the God who made us, loves us, and wants us to be holy?
It couldn't be as simple as that, could it?
GOSPEL: Mark 1:40-45 "See that you say nothing to no one . . . . But he went out and began to proclaim it freely."
As a preacher and a pastor; I take great comfort in the fact that people didn't do what Jesus told them either; and that even when Jesus did his best to act like an old German Herr Pastor: he was ignored and disobeyed in the same way I am.
I grew up in a time and a place where a lot of people were fascinated by faith healing and faith healers. Oral Roberts and Katherine Kuhlman were the A list, the super stars (a joke from that time: did you hear that Oral Roberts put out a record album but nobody would buy it? The hole kept healing up!) but here were many other B, (and C) list healers making the circuit in their RV's Buses and Circus type preaching tents.
One of the things I noticed was that people used healings to validate their belief in God, or Jesus, or a particular preacher, or a denomination or sect. And a failed healing would lead them to a quick and serious loss of faith, sometimes just in a particular healer, but often in God Himself.
Also, people whose faith grew out of some ecstatic healing experience appeared to need more and more healings and miracles to sustain and validate their faith. It seemed to me to be both self-centered and shallow.
Which is perhaps why Jesus didn't want his ability to heal noised about so loudly. He was clear that people who came to faith quickly and excitedly often left it just as quickly and with just as much emotion. Jesus wanted to spread the Word about the Kingdom, not to become the latest circus sideshow to divert a poor and oppressed people from their pain.
Laying on of hands and prayers for healing are good things. Healing is a ministry the church should be actively doing. But the church must take a hint from Jesus, and do healing ministry out of compassion, not as a way to gain people's attention or loyalty.
Peace,
Delmo
Most of the sermons I heard as a child at Slate Mountain Missionary Baptist Church were less than memorable. No, let me rephrase that, they were all alike, so once you knew it, you couldn't forget it, even if you wanted to. As I wrote in a very angry autobiographical essay for a class at Duke, "no matter where the sermon started it took a detour through Hell and ended up at the foot of the cross."
But there was one Sermon, one Sunday, that has stayed with me for along time, proably 45+ years now. Charlie Simmons was the grandfather of my childhood friend Billy Simmons and Charlie was a Baptist preacher. He was preaching at Slate Mountain that day, though he was not the pastor. It must have been Homecoming. It was some special occasion, because the children sang a song, and we didn't normally have a children's choir.
After we sang, we all sat together on the front row. Mr. Charlie began to preach, maybe on this text. In the midst of his sermon, he walked out to the edge of the platform and held out a quarter to us, the children on the front row. He looked down at us with his kindly blue eyes underneath a shock of white hair, and invited any one of us who wanted the quarter to get up and get it. All we had to do, he said, was get up and come and get it. It was very tempting.
25 cents was a lot of money to a 7 year old back in 1963. I wanted the money, we all did. But, there had to be a catch. It couldn't be that easy. And our parents might get mad at us for being greedy. "it's okay" Mr. Charlie said, "nobody will get upset with you," he smiled, as if reading our minds.
But we couldn't do it. We sat there, hungrily desirous of that quarter, but unable to move, sitting forward, straining to get up, but feeling as though we were glued to that pew.
Mr. Charlie went on to talk about how God's grace in our lives is right there for us, but we would rather earn it. If God said swim the Atlantic and you'll go to heaven, we'd try it. If God said, Climb Mount Everest and you will receive perfect peace, we'd give it a shot, Mr. Charlie preached. But we think that God's offer of Grace in our lives is too easy, too simple, not important enough, he said. And so, like these children, we sit and yearn, and do nothing.
I've thought of that sermon often over the years. I have tried to make living in God's Grace much harder than it is, I think. I have studied and prayed and tried to be good. Because it couldn't be as simple as trusting that the God who made us, loves us, and wants us to be holy?
It couldn't be as simple as that, could it?
GOSPEL: Mark 1:40-45 "See that you say nothing to no one . . . . But he went out and began to proclaim it freely."
As a preacher and a pastor; I take great comfort in the fact that people didn't do what Jesus told them either; and that even when Jesus did his best to act like an old German Herr Pastor: he was ignored and disobeyed in the same way I am.
I grew up in a time and a place where a lot of people were fascinated by faith healing and faith healers. Oral Roberts and Katherine Kuhlman were the A list, the super stars (a joke from that time: did you hear that Oral Roberts put out a record album but nobody would buy it? The hole kept healing up!) but here were many other B, (and C) list healers making the circuit in their RV's Buses and Circus type preaching tents.
One of the things I noticed was that people used healings to validate their belief in God, or Jesus, or a particular preacher, or a denomination or sect. And a failed healing would lead them to a quick and serious loss of faith, sometimes just in a particular healer, but often in God Himself.
Also, people whose faith grew out of some ecstatic healing experience appeared to need more and more healings and miracles to sustain and validate their faith. It seemed to me to be both self-centered and shallow.
Which is perhaps why Jesus didn't want his ability to heal noised about so loudly. He was clear that people who came to faith quickly and excitedly often left it just as quickly and with just as much emotion. Jesus wanted to spread the Word about the Kingdom, not to become the latest circus sideshow to divert a poor and oppressed people from their pain.
Laying on of hands and prayers for healing are good things. Healing is a ministry the church should be actively doing. But the church must take a hint from Jesus, and do healing ministry out of compassion, not as a way to gain people's attention or loyalty.
Peace,
Delmo
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
EPIPHANY 5; RCL texts for Feb. 5, 2006
First Lesson: Isaiah 40:21-31; ". . .but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."
Second Lesson I Corinthians 9:16-23; ". . .for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the Gospel."
Gospel Lesson: Mark 1:29-39: "And he (Jesus) went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons."
Coretta Scott King died yesterday. Saturday is the 100th Anniversary of the birth of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Go buy today's (Feb. 1) USA Today. It carries a long story on Mrs. King in section A, and another long article on Bonhoeffer in Section D.
It seems to me this is a good Sunday for honoring people who spoke out in the name of Christ. To add to the martyr theme, in the ELCA we honor the Martyrs of Japan on this date. They were 26 missionaries and converts crucified in Japan in 1597.
The OT lesson points out how God undergirds the life of the faithful, in I Corinthians, Paul reminds us that these people agonized over their witness, final feeling compelled by the call of God and circumstance, and the Gospel lesson in particular reminds us that the Good News is inseperable from confronting and casting out "demons", like racism and fascism.
I am particularly impressed by the fact that both Mrs. King and Dr. Bonhoeffer had the option of staying out of the fray, but felt called to enter the battle of behalf of "their people".
Mrs. King was studying opera in Boston, she apparently could have had quite a nice career in NY or Boston, or the West Coast or possibly Europe. But she was from Alabama, and she went back to Alabama with her Preacher boy husband. After Dr. King was assassinated, who would have blamed her, as a relatively young woman of 40, if she had gone somewhere else to live and raise her children, had gotten on with her life. But she stayed in their little house in Vine City until 2005, she struggled to maintain her dignity and to support the Cause of Civil rights. Why? Because there were demons to be cast out, and she had had an obligation laid upon her. And, in the end, she did mount up as with eagles wings.
Dr. Bonhoeffer had a Doctorate at the age of 21, he had an international reputation. In 1939 he was in NY, with a cushy teaching position at Union Seminary. But his conscience would not let him stay. "If I am not there now, I will have no right to be a part of the rebuilding of the German people after this is over." A Pacifist, he made the very difficult and self contradictory decision to participate in an attempt to murder Hitler, to cast out the Demon. In the end, he too felt "an obligation is laid on me, " and the record of his days in prison leading up to his hanging show that he too renewed his strength, his quiet moral strength and confidence in God.
We must ask ourselves, What obligation is laid upon us, in America, in 2006?
What demons are we called to cast out? What fears keep us from acting and speaking in the name of the Gospel? Like Jesus, let us slip away into the lonely dark, quiet down and pray and seek God's will and way for all of us.
Peace,
Delmo
Second Lesson I Corinthians 9:16-23; ". . .for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the Gospel."
Gospel Lesson: Mark 1:29-39: "And he (Jesus) went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons."
Coretta Scott King died yesterday. Saturday is the 100th Anniversary of the birth of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Go buy today's (Feb. 1) USA Today. It carries a long story on Mrs. King in section A, and another long article on Bonhoeffer in Section D.
It seems to me this is a good Sunday for honoring people who spoke out in the name of Christ. To add to the martyr theme, in the ELCA we honor the Martyrs of Japan on this date. They were 26 missionaries and converts crucified in Japan in 1597.
The OT lesson points out how God undergirds the life of the faithful, in I Corinthians, Paul reminds us that these people agonized over their witness, final feeling compelled by the call of God and circumstance, and the Gospel lesson in particular reminds us that the Good News is inseperable from confronting and casting out "demons", like racism and fascism.
I am particularly impressed by the fact that both Mrs. King and Dr. Bonhoeffer had the option of staying out of the fray, but felt called to enter the battle of behalf of "their people".
Mrs. King was studying opera in Boston, she apparently could have had quite a nice career in NY or Boston, or the West Coast or possibly Europe. But she was from Alabama, and she went back to Alabama with her Preacher boy husband. After Dr. King was assassinated, who would have blamed her, as a relatively young woman of 40, if she had gone somewhere else to live and raise her children, had gotten on with her life. But she stayed in their little house in Vine City until 2005, she struggled to maintain her dignity and to support the Cause of Civil rights. Why? Because there were demons to be cast out, and she had had an obligation laid upon her. And, in the end, she did mount up as with eagles wings.
Dr. Bonhoeffer had a Doctorate at the age of 21, he had an international reputation. In 1939 he was in NY, with a cushy teaching position at Union Seminary. But his conscience would not let him stay. "If I am not there now, I will have no right to be a part of the rebuilding of the German people after this is over." A Pacifist, he made the very difficult and self contradictory decision to participate in an attempt to murder Hitler, to cast out the Demon. In the end, he too felt "an obligation is laid on me, " and the record of his days in prison leading up to his hanging show that he too renewed his strength, his quiet moral strength and confidence in God.
We must ask ourselves, What obligation is laid upon us, in America, in 2006?
What demons are we called to cast out? What fears keep us from acting and speaking in the name of the Gospel? Like Jesus, let us slip away into the lonely dark, quiet down and pray and seek God's will and way for all of us.
Peace,
Delmo
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Epiphany IV, RCL Texts for January 29, 2006
GOSPEL READING: Mark 1:21-28 "Have you come to destroy us?"
Viktor Frankl, in one of his books, tells the post-Concentration Camp story of a young woman in a relocation camp in Eastern Europe. The evacuees were sleeping on cots in a large room like a gymnasium or an armory. One woman kept wailing every five minutes, "I am so thirsty." No one could sleep because of the noise she was making. Finally an attendant brought her a glass of water. Things were quiet for 15-20 minutes, then the woman began wailing, "I WAS so thirsty!"
Frankl points out that thirst was not the woman's real problem, it was what therapists call her presenting problem. Her real problem was a need to be loved, or at least noticed, paid attention to. Though her physical thirst was satisfied, her emotional, spiritual thirst remain unabated.
In our Gospel lesson, the man with the unclean spirit has established his identity as "the man with the unclean spirit", and he fights off losing that identity. "Have you come to destroy us?"
Most of us fight off the love of God because God's love in Christ is a two-edged sword, which must first cut, slay, destroy that which it would save. Remember Jesus said so. "To save your life you must lose it." Paul reminds us that to be baptised is to die in order to be raised again.
And the fact is, the old Adam does not want to die. Most of us do not want our lives to be changed by the Gospel; in order for change to happen, something must die, and we are loathe to change, afraid of death.
So the man with the unclean spirit speaks aright, speaks that which most of us are too proper, too"Christian", to say. He knows that to follow Christ is to have our safe, secure, middle-class lives, if not destroyed, then seriously challanged and altered. And he is honest about not really wanting that to happen.
Here's a question. What is our unclean spirit which fights off conversion?
There is a story about the early missionaries to Germany. The fierce Teutonic warriors accepted baptism, yet they held their sword hands out of the water, reserving the right to fight.
What are we holding out of the waters of Baptism, seeking to protect that piece of our lives from death and renewal?
Peace,
Delmo
Viktor Frankl, in one of his books, tells the post-Concentration Camp story of a young woman in a relocation camp in Eastern Europe. The evacuees were sleeping on cots in a large room like a gymnasium or an armory. One woman kept wailing every five minutes, "I am so thirsty." No one could sleep because of the noise she was making. Finally an attendant brought her a glass of water. Things were quiet for 15-20 minutes, then the woman began wailing, "I WAS so thirsty!"
Frankl points out that thirst was not the woman's real problem, it was what therapists call her presenting problem. Her real problem was a need to be loved, or at least noticed, paid attention to. Though her physical thirst was satisfied, her emotional, spiritual thirst remain unabated.
In our Gospel lesson, the man with the unclean spirit has established his identity as "the man with the unclean spirit", and he fights off losing that identity. "Have you come to destroy us?"
Most of us fight off the love of God because God's love in Christ is a two-edged sword, which must first cut, slay, destroy that which it would save. Remember Jesus said so. "To save your life you must lose it." Paul reminds us that to be baptised is to die in order to be raised again.
And the fact is, the old Adam does not want to die. Most of us do not want our lives to be changed by the Gospel; in order for change to happen, something must die, and we are loathe to change, afraid of death.
So the man with the unclean spirit speaks aright, speaks that which most of us are too proper, too"Christian", to say. He knows that to follow Christ is to have our safe, secure, middle-class lives, if not destroyed, then seriously challanged and altered. And he is honest about not really wanting that to happen.
Here's a question. What is our unclean spirit which fights off conversion?
There is a story about the early missionaries to Germany. The fierce Teutonic warriors accepted baptism, yet they held their sword hands out of the water, reserving the right to fight.
What are we holding out of the waters of Baptism, seeking to protect that piece of our lives from death and renewal?
Peace,
Delmo
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Epiphany 2: RCL texts for January 15, 2005
FIRST READING: I Samuel 3:1-10 "Then Eli perceived that God was calling the boy."
GOSPEL READING: John 1:43-51 "Phillip said to him, 'Come and see.' "
I have been deeply confused over the concept of hearing the voice of God ever since an incident which happened when I was a little boy. I grew up next door to my Grandparents and ate breakfast with them 3 or 4 times a week, which was good, because Aunt Mildred who lived with them, was a great cook and made especially wonderful biscuits; but it was bad because you could not speak during breakfast because the folks, Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Mildred, had to listen to their favorite program while they ate:
THE MOODY 'S OBITUARY COLUMN OF THE AIR.
It started with somber, funereal organ music, then a deep, basso profundo voice intoned, WELCOME TO THE MOODY'S OBITUARY COLUMN OF THE AIR. Fred Jones, of 3331 Mockingbord lane passed away last evening at Northern Surry Hospital. His is survived by . . .
He was employed by . . . .He was a member of . . . . Funeral to be held at . . . conducted by the Rev. . . .Memorials may be ent to . . . . etc. for about 10 to 20 names, all read with great dignity b y that deep, deep voice.
I was about 5 or 6 at the time and concluded that the voice on the radio was the voice of God.
Who else would know all those things about a person, all those details? And the Church we attended then laid a lot of stress on the Second Coming and the Rapture and the Like A Thief In the Night and stuff like that. They especially talked a lot about ehther you'd be ready to go when the Man Upstairs decided it was your turn to face the final Judgement. SO, I decided the voice on the radio was God sending out a message: THESE ARE THE ONES I TOOK LAST NIGHT. ARE YOU READY, REALLY READY, TO MEET YOUR MAKER?
One day, my Daddy dropped me off at Elmer Timmon's Barber Shop to get a haircut while he ran over to town to get a truckload of fertilizer. I had just learned to read a bit and was very happily looking through the Boys Life magazines when I got scared out of my skin. the Man in the chair opened his mouth and out came that oh so familiar voice: ELMER, COULD YOU TAKE A LITTLE MORE OFF THE EARS. Oh my God, Yes MY GOD was there, right there with me in that Barber Shop. Oh NO! My time had come. He had come to take me home. It was time for me to face the Final Judgement. And of one thing I was never more certain; I was not ready to go. SO. I hid in the Bathroom until he left, cowering in the dark under the sink.
So, this whole audible voice of God in the night thing is a little unsettling for me. I have never heard another audible voice that I thought to be the voice of God, and yet I believe God has called me into the Christian life and that God has called me into ordained ministry and that God has called me to various churches, and that God has called me into my present position and that God has many more calls left for me before my call to stand before the Judgement Seat.
And the words of verse 8 have been very helpful to me in all these calls: "Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy." God lives in community, perhaps God only lives in community, I don't know. But I do know that I need community to live in God. I need the encouragement and correction and opportunity to love others and to let them love me. And I especially need them to help me hear the voice of God, to perceive with me that God is calling me.
In the Gospel lesson Jesus calls Phillip and Phillip "passes on" the call to Nathanael, inviting him to come and see this Jesus of Nazereth, and the community which he has called together. We sometimes talk about Jesus going about preaching and teaching as if he was mostly alone with a group of silly disciples/fishermen/tax collector groupies around for comic/foil purposes. We often fail to see that Jesus came out of his wilderness experience realizing his deep need for community in the life he had been called to live out in the world. His first act was to gather such a community of love, support and companionship. Just as Jesus needed that community, so do we.
Peace,
Delmo
GOSPEL READING: John 1:43-51 "Phillip said to him, 'Come and see.' "
I have been deeply confused over the concept of hearing the voice of God ever since an incident which happened when I was a little boy. I grew up next door to my Grandparents and ate breakfast with them 3 or 4 times a week, which was good, because Aunt Mildred who lived with them, was a great cook and made especially wonderful biscuits; but it was bad because you could not speak during breakfast because the folks, Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Mildred, had to listen to their favorite program while they ate:
THE MOODY 'S OBITUARY COLUMN OF THE AIR.
It started with somber, funereal organ music, then a deep, basso profundo voice intoned, WELCOME TO THE MOODY'S OBITUARY COLUMN OF THE AIR. Fred Jones, of 3331 Mockingbord lane passed away last evening at Northern Surry Hospital. His is survived by . . .
He was employed by . . . .He was a member of . . . . Funeral to be held at . . . conducted by the Rev. . . .Memorials may be ent to . . . . etc. for about 10 to 20 names, all read with great dignity b y that deep, deep voice.
I was about 5 or 6 at the time and concluded that the voice on the radio was the voice of God.
Who else would know all those things about a person, all those details? And the Church we attended then laid a lot of stress on the Second Coming and the Rapture and the Like A Thief In the Night and stuff like that. They especially talked a lot about ehther you'd be ready to go when the Man Upstairs decided it was your turn to face the final Judgement. SO, I decided the voice on the radio was God sending out a message: THESE ARE THE ONES I TOOK LAST NIGHT. ARE YOU READY, REALLY READY, TO MEET YOUR MAKER?
One day, my Daddy dropped me off at Elmer Timmon's Barber Shop to get a haircut while he ran over to town to get a truckload of fertilizer. I had just learned to read a bit and was very happily looking through the Boys Life magazines when I got scared out of my skin. the Man in the chair opened his mouth and out came that oh so familiar voice: ELMER, COULD YOU TAKE A LITTLE MORE OFF THE EARS. Oh my God, Yes MY GOD was there, right there with me in that Barber Shop. Oh NO! My time had come. He had come to take me home. It was time for me to face the Final Judgement. And of one thing I was never more certain; I was not ready to go. SO. I hid in the Bathroom until he left, cowering in the dark under the sink.
So, this whole audible voice of God in the night thing is a little unsettling for me. I have never heard another audible voice that I thought to be the voice of God, and yet I believe God has called me into the Christian life and that God has called me into ordained ministry and that God has called me to various churches, and that God has called me into my present position and that God has many more calls left for me before my call to stand before the Judgement Seat.
And the words of verse 8 have been very helpful to me in all these calls: "Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy." God lives in community, perhaps God only lives in community, I don't know. But I do know that I need community to live in God. I need the encouragement and correction and opportunity to love others and to let them love me. And I especially need them to help me hear the voice of God, to perceive with me that God is calling me.
In the Gospel lesson Jesus calls Phillip and Phillip "passes on" the call to Nathanael, inviting him to come and see this Jesus of Nazereth, and the community which he has called together. We sometimes talk about Jesus going about preaching and teaching as if he was mostly alone with a group of silly disciples/fishermen/tax collector groupies around for comic/foil purposes. We often fail to see that Jesus came out of his wilderness experience realizing his deep need for community in the life he had been called to live out in the world. His first act was to gather such a community of love, support and companionship. Just as Jesus needed that community, so do we.
Peace,
Delmo
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
THE BAPTISM OF OUR LORD: RCL Texts for January 8, 2005
FIRST LESSON: Genesis 1:1-5, “God created the heavens and the earth. . .’
NO, NO, NO! I’m not going to get into Creationism and Darwinism and Intelligent Design and Dover, PA and the Kansas Board of Education and all that. We all know more about that than we need to anyway.
What I’m really interested in is the issue of creativity and responsibility. Felling responsible for the life of one’s creations; and a recognition of the fact that once a thing has been created, the creator often has little or no control over it.
I first started thinking about his stuff when my first child, David, was born almost 23 years ago in West Columbia, SC. Up until then, most of what I had personally had a hand in creating didn’t seem worth worrying about: sermons, term papers, tobacco crops, the occasional pound cake or pan of corn bread. But now, this was something, this was incredible.
I remember lying on my back in the playground of the elementary school across the street for the Lutheran Seminary and next door to my apartment house. Deborah and David were at the hospital. It was late at night, I was a little giddy from a lack of sleep and birthing excitement, (okay, and a beer or two (or three) to celebrate). As July 31 turned into August 1, I looked up at the stars, puffed on my cigar and pondered what it meant that Deborah and I had brought a new life into the world. It scared the hell out of me.
It was not so much the fragility of a little baby; I had been a day care worker in college; babies didn’t scare me. It was more the responsibility of introducing a new life form into the universe, a life form that could do great things; great good things or great bad things.
There were, I knew, certain things I could do to nurture and guide this new life in certain directions, but ultimately who he was and what he became and what he did with this gift of life was out of my hands. It was, as I said, a frightening thought.
God created the world, and what a risky thing that was (is). To bring into existence that which was not, and to allow it the freedom to grow and develop in unpredictable directions. We are called upon to trust the Creator. It amazes me how much the creator trusted the creation.
Okay, maybe just one creation/Darwin comment. It seems to me the whole debate ends up being about having some sense of control over the process, being able to predict what it will do or how it will go. For the Creationists and the IDers, having a God or Intelligent Designer in charge and in control feels safer than random chance. And for the Darwinists, being able to figure out and predict the “Laws of Evolution” feels safer than a capricious, mythological figure like a supernatural “GOD.” And me, I just look up at the sky and say “cool”; because as a parent I have already figured out that we creators have no control of our creations and probably shouldn’t have either.
SECOND LESSON: Acts 19:1-7 “we didn’t even know there was a Holy Spirit”.
(Delmer version)
I have sometimes referred to this as the mainline memory verse. We middle class believers, we Middling Methodists and Lukewarm Lutherans; we Equivocating Episcopalians and Proper Presbyterians; we want nothing to do with a religion filled with things we can’t harness and control and direct; especially no speaking in exuberant and unknown languages and healing people with prayers and olive oil.
This is the sort of thing people in Storefront churches do, or more likely those rapid-fire preachers on television, the ones with fancy haircuts and $1500 suits, strutting around in front of 5000 adoring fans, er, parishioners, and backed by a band Sammy Davis, Jr. would have been proud of. This Holy Spirit stuff is fine for them, but not for us.
But NO, actually, the Holy Spirit moves in, with and under us as well. Not in exactly the same way. Well, okay, not in anything like the same way. I mean; with us its movement is almost imperceptible. But the Spirit does move, and it does move us.
It moves us to acts of generosity and love in response to things like hurricane Katrina and the large amount of response generated by the Lutheran/Episcopal Disaster Response of Mississippi; the work of the United Methodist Committee on Relief and the equivalent agencies amongst the Presbyterians and others.
It moves us to write our checks to the church and to deliver meals on wheels and to volunteer in the nursery and to sit on the evangelism committee, etc. etc. It moves us to be honest in our workplace and kind to our neighbors; and it empowers us to do those things when it feels like it is more than we can do.
And true, many times it doesn’t feel like the spirit, sometimes we forget that it is the Spirit which works in us, but it is the Spirit, whether you remember that or not. It is in our baptism that we, like Jesus, receive the mandate and the means for ministry and mission in the world. The Spirit sends us forth to serve in Jesus name.
GOSPEL: Mark 1:4-11 verse 11, “and a voice came from heaven, “Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,”
One of my favorite stories. Fr. Desmond Tutu says that when he was a young priest in South Africa, he had a large Catechism class of young boys, 12 and 13 year olds. He gave them a written test on the New Testament. One of the questions was, “What did the voice from heaven say when Jesus was baptized?’ Most of the students gave an answer somewhere close to right, but one young scholar wrote that the Spirit said, YOU ARE THE SON OF GOD, NOW ACT LIKE IT! Delmo says, if you can’t make a sermon out of that, you can’t preach.
Peace,
delmo
NO, NO, NO! I’m not going to get into Creationism and Darwinism and Intelligent Design and Dover, PA and the Kansas Board of Education and all that. We all know more about that than we need to anyway.
What I’m really interested in is the issue of creativity and responsibility. Felling responsible for the life of one’s creations; and a recognition of the fact that once a thing has been created, the creator often has little or no control over it.
I first started thinking about his stuff when my first child, David, was born almost 23 years ago in West Columbia, SC. Up until then, most of what I had personally had a hand in creating didn’t seem worth worrying about: sermons, term papers, tobacco crops, the occasional pound cake or pan of corn bread. But now, this was something, this was incredible.
I remember lying on my back in the playground of the elementary school across the street for the Lutheran Seminary and next door to my apartment house. Deborah and David were at the hospital. It was late at night, I was a little giddy from a lack of sleep and birthing excitement, (okay, and a beer or two (or three) to celebrate). As July 31 turned into August 1, I looked up at the stars, puffed on my cigar and pondered what it meant that Deborah and I had brought a new life into the world. It scared the hell out of me.
It was not so much the fragility of a little baby; I had been a day care worker in college; babies didn’t scare me. It was more the responsibility of introducing a new life form into the universe, a life form that could do great things; great good things or great bad things.
There were, I knew, certain things I could do to nurture and guide this new life in certain directions, but ultimately who he was and what he became and what he did with this gift of life was out of my hands. It was, as I said, a frightening thought.
God created the world, and what a risky thing that was (is). To bring into existence that which was not, and to allow it the freedom to grow and develop in unpredictable directions. We are called upon to trust the Creator. It amazes me how much the creator trusted the creation.
Okay, maybe just one creation/Darwin comment. It seems to me the whole debate ends up being about having some sense of control over the process, being able to predict what it will do or how it will go. For the Creationists and the IDers, having a God or Intelligent Designer in charge and in control feels safer than random chance. And for the Darwinists, being able to figure out and predict the “Laws of Evolution” feels safer than a capricious, mythological figure like a supernatural “GOD.” And me, I just look up at the sky and say “cool”; because as a parent I have already figured out that we creators have no control of our creations and probably shouldn’t have either.
SECOND LESSON: Acts 19:1-7 “we didn’t even know there was a Holy Spirit”.
(Delmer version)
I have sometimes referred to this as the mainline memory verse. We middle class believers, we Middling Methodists and Lukewarm Lutherans; we Equivocating Episcopalians and Proper Presbyterians; we want nothing to do with a religion filled with things we can’t harness and control and direct; especially no speaking in exuberant and unknown languages and healing people with prayers and olive oil.
This is the sort of thing people in Storefront churches do, or more likely those rapid-fire preachers on television, the ones with fancy haircuts and $1500 suits, strutting around in front of 5000 adoring fans, er, parishioners, and backed by a band Sammy Davis, Jr. would have been proud of. This Holy Spirit stuff is fine for them, but not for us.
But NO, actually, the Holy Spirit moves in, with and under us as well. Not in exactly the same way. Well, okay, not in anything like the same way. I mean; with us its movement is almost imperceptible. But the Spirit does move, and it does move us.
It moves us to acts of generosity and love in response to things like hurricane Katrina and the large amount of response generated by the Lutheran/Episcopal Disaster Response of Mississippi; the work of the United Methodist Committee on Relief and the equivalent agencies amongst the Presbyterians and others.
It moves us to write our checks to the church and to deliver meals on wheels and to volunteer in the nursery and to sit on the evangelism committee, etc. etc. It moves us to be honest in our workplace and kind to our neighbors; and it empowers us to do those things when it feels like it is more than we can do.
And true, many times it doesn’t feel like the spirit, sometimes we forget that it is the Spirit which works in us, but it is the Spirit, whether you remember that or not. It is in our baptism that we, like Jesus, receive the mandate and the means for ministry and mission in the world. The Spirit sends us forth to serve in Jesus name.
GOSPEL: Mark 1:4-11 verse 11, “and a voice came from heaven, “Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,”
One of my favorite stories. Fr. Desmond Tutu says that when he was a young priest in South Africa, he had a large Catechism class of young boys, 12 and 13 year olds. He gave them a written test on the New Testament. One of the questions was, “What did the voice from heaven say when Jesus was baptized?’ Most of the students gave an answer somewhere close to right, but one young scholar wrote that the Spirit said, YOU ARE THE SON OF GOD, NOW ACT LIKE IT! Delmo says, if you can’t make a sermon out of that, you can’t preach.
Peace,
delmo
Thursday, December 29, 2005
THE NAME OF JESUS: TCL texts for January 1, 2006
FIRST READING: Numbers 6:22-27
Verse 27: If they pronounce my name as a blessing . . .”
What might it mean to pronounce God’s name as a blessing? More particularly, what might it mean to pronounce God’s name as a curse? Though many churches use verses 24-26 as the closing Blessing or Benediction for worship, and though this is probably a good thing, this is, of course not ALL the author had in mind, nor should we attribute magical qualities to the words like some sort of White Magic Incantation. No, the issue of pronouncing blessings goes much deeper than that.
I remember a clergy retreat, a group of suburban Lutherans from Atlanta. We spent a couple of days at the monastery of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, studying Flannery O’Connor’s WISE BLOOD with Dr. Ficken from the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta. One night as part of Evening Prayer we were asked to think about the first time something happened in parish ministry that let us know that this was a mysterious profession. We were to think about it over night.
At morning prayer, one pastor talked about the first time he celebrated Communion and a woman came to see him the next day, demanding to know why he thought she was going to hell. He was “bumfuzzled” until she pointed out he had given her the wafer with the
“little Jesus” upside down. She took it as a sign; a bad sign.
Most of the time, most of us don’t mean to “damn” in the name of the LORD, but sometimes we do. More importantly, we sometimes go through life and our ministries, blithely unaware of the power people give to our words and actions. We must consciously attempt to pronounce Blessing in the name of the LORD.
SECOND READING: Philippians 2: 5-11
“did not count equality with God as a thing to be grasped.” The TEV renders this verse,
“did not think that by force he should try to become equal with God.”
We are so often a grabbing, grasping, position claiming people. We live in a competitive world, from sports to schools, to jobs, to our politics, everything. We don not often notice it any more than we notice air or a fish notices water. Everything with us is to be grabbed, grasped, striven after, competed for, we attempt by force to get not just equality but superiority. Not usually by dint of physical force, but by force of personality, or intellect or hard work, etc.
The people we resent are the ones whom we perceive to have acquired their jobs, their positions, their wealth by relationships and inheritance rather than by the “sweat of their brows”. Which is why the Gospel is so often so foreign to us. We continually try to figure out what it is we must do to be saved, and the thing we must do is let go of trying to save ourselves. We must imitate Christ and release ourselves from all striving, and let God love us. As a non-recovering workaholic, let me be the first to say, I get this in my head, getting it in my heart and soul has been only occasionally realized.
GOSPEL LESSON: Luke 2:15-21
“And He was called Jesus, the name given by the angel . . . “
When I was kid, like 3 or 4, I had serious trouble pronouncing L’s and W’s. I got them backwards. My mother says she has tried for almost 50 years to recreate the sounds I made when trying to say “pickle” and “pillow”.
My father’s name was Lowell, Lowell Chilton. You can see the potential disaster looming. There was a man at our church who loved to ask me who my Daddy was, just so he could hear me mangle “Lowell Chilton’s boy.” He would ask me several times, so I would get exasperated, put my hands on my hips and exclaim, “I said, I’m Woleww Chiwton’s boy.” (or something like that.)
I grew up in the country outside Mt. Airy NC. In many ways, it is the quintessential
American small town. Though not really Mayberry, it was where Andy Griffith grew up and I’m sure it fed his creative imagination. Anyway, after I went off to college and then to seminary and ministry in far off places like Charlotte and Atlanta and Nashville, places where I had difficulty getting businesses in sight of my house of church to take a personal check, in Mt. Airy, things were different. No, they didn’t remember me, but they did know my Daddy.
Daddy was not a wealthy man, or a prominent man, or an important man, just a small time farmer and mill-worker. But he was an honest man, a good man, a good neighbor and friend who always paid his debts, which was enough for them. At the right places, all I had to do was say I was “Lowell Chilton’s boy,” and they took my out-of-town, indeed, out-of-state (may as well be out of the country) check, no questions asked.
Well, they did ask how Mama and Aunt Mildred and them were getting along, but not financial questions asked.
Just wondering, what is the power of Jesus’ name in our lives. Can we be proud to say we are a child of God? Thinking back to the first lesson, ha so much damning and hurting been done in the LORD’s name that it no longer carries implications of goodness and trustworthiness in the world. Is it our calling to restore the good name of Jesus, rescuing it from the clutches of those who use it to bludgeon others with their vision of a righteous America? I think so.
Peace,
Delmo
Verse 27: If they pronounce my name as a blessing . . .”
What might it mean to pronounce God’s name as a blessing? More particularly, what might it mean to pronounce God’s name as a curse? Though many churches use verses 24-26 as the closing Blessing or Benediction for worship, and though this is probably a good thing, this is, of course not ALL the author had in mind, nor should we attribute magical qualities to the words like some sort of White Magic Incantation. No, the issue of pronouncing blessings goes much deeper than that.
I remember a clergy retreat, a group of suburban Lutherans from Atlanta. We spent a couple of days at the monastery of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, studying Flannery O’Connor’s WISE BLOOD with Dr. Ficken from the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta. One night as part of Evening Prayer we were asked to think about the first time something happened in parish ministry that let us know that this was a mysterious profession. We were to think about it over night.
At morning prayer, one pastor talked about the first time he celebrated Communion and a woman came to see him the next day, demanding to know why he thought she was going to hell. He was “bumfuzzled” until she pointed out he had given her the wafer with the
“little Jesus” upside down. She took it as a sign; a bad sign.
Most of the time, most of us don’t mean to “damn” in the name of the LORD, but sometimes we do. More importantly, we sometimes go through life and our ministries, blithely unaware of the power people give to our words and actions. We must consciously attempt to pronounce Blessing in the name of the LORD.
SECOND READING: Philippians 2: 5-11
“did not count equality with God as a thing to be grasped.” The TEV renders this verse,
“did not think that by force he should try to become equal with God.”
We are so often a grabbing, grasping, position claiming people. We live in a competitive world, from sports to schools, to jobs, to our politics, everything. We don not often notice it any more than we notice air or a fish notices water. Everything with us is to be grabbed, grasped, striven after, competed for, we attempt by force to get not just equality but superiority. Not usually by dint of physical force, but by force of personality, or intellect or hard work, etc.
The people we resent are the ones whom we perceive to have acquired their jobs, their positions, their wealth by relationships and inheritance rather than by the “sweat of their brows”. Which is why the Gospel is so often so foreign to us. We continually try to figure out what it is we must do to be saved, and the thing we must do is let go of trying to save ourselves. We must imitate Christ and release ourselves from all striving, and let God love us. As a non-recovering workaholic, let me be the first to say, I get this in my head, getting it in my heart and soul has been only occasionally realized.
GOSPEL LESSON: Luke 2:15-21
“And He was called Jesus, the name given by the angel . . . “
When I was kid, like 3 or 4, I had serious trouble pronouncing L’s and W’s. I got them backwards. My mother says she has tried for almost 50 years to recreate the sounds I made when trying to say “pickle” and “pillow”.
My father’s name was Lowell, Lowell Chilton. You can see the potential disaster looming. There was a man at our church who loved to ask me who my Daddy was, just so he could hear me mangle “Lowell Chilton’s boy.” He would ask me several times, so I would get exasperated, put my hands on my hips and exclaim, “I said, I’m Woleww Chiwton’s boy.” (or something like that.)
I grew up in the country outside Mt. Airy NC. In many ways, it is the quintessential
American small town. Though not really Mayberry, it was where Andy Griffith grew up and I’m sure it fed his creative imagination. Anyway, after I went off to college and then to seminary and ministry in far off places like Charlotte and Atlanta and Nashville, places where I had difficulty getting businesses in sight of my house of church to take a personal check, in Mt. Airy, things were different. No, they didn’t remember me, but they did know my Daddy.
Daddy was not a wealthy man, or a prominent man, or an important man, just a small time farmer and mill-worker. But he was an honest man, a good man, a good neighbor and friend who always paid his debts, which was enough for them. At the right places, all I had to do was say I was “Lowell Chilton’s boy,” and they took my out-of-town, indeed, out-of-state (may as well be out of the country) check, no questions asked.
Well, they did ask how Mama and Aunt Mildred and them were getting along, but not financial questions asked.
Just wondering, what is the power of Jesus’ name in our lives. Can we be proud to say we are a child of God? Thinking back to the first lesson, ha so much damning and hurting been done in the LORD’s name that it no longer carries implications of goodness and trustworthiness in the world. Is it our calling to restore the good name of Jesus, rescuing it from the clutches of those who use it to bludgeon others with their vision of a righteous America? I think so.
Peace,
Delmo
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
CHRISTMAS: RCL Texts for Dec. 24
FIRST LESSON: Isaiah 9:2-7: verse 2 “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them the light has shined.”
I grew up on a farm and I used to know what true darkness was, but then I went off to college and eventually spent years living in small towns, suburbs and cities and forgot.
Too many street lights and well-lit parking lots for true darkness to exist.
Then I moved to Clay County, North Carolina. We are, the saying goes, “two hours from anything and darned glad of it.” I have become reacquainted with true darkness, a dark so thick you can’t see your hand in front of your face. Believe you me, walking in such darkness is frightening and genuinely dangerous.
We have motion detector lights on the house, ready to come on when you drive up and to go off a few minutes later. One night I arrived home and discovered the lights would not come on and I had no flashlight in the car. I turned on the headlights to see my way to the house, then flipped the porch light switch. Nothing. Well, I couldn’t let the car lights burn all night and run down the battery. I went and turned them off and felt my way into the house and over to the couch. Complete and total darkness, I was a afraid to move, afraid of misunderstanding where I was and falling down the steps to the basement, of tripping over furniture. And then the lights came on. The power had been restored.
And I was safe again.
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them the light had shined.” Without the light of Holy Love, our world is dark indeed.
SECOND LESSON: Titus 2:11-14: “For the Grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all.” There is an interesting textual footnote in the Oxford Annotated Bible, NRSV edition. After “all” there is a footnote indicator and the note says “Or has appeared to all, bringing salvation.”
It’s an interesting difference and may delineate the world of Christianity as well as any other dividing line. It all depends on where you put the “to all.” Did the Grace of God appear to all, saving some; or did the Grace of God appear, saving all?
It is a revealing template to place on top of our differences of theology in the Christian world. Its not just about limited versus universal atonement; its about how genuinely inclusive is God’s grace? At Christmas time, at least, most of us are universalists, proclaiming God’s grace appeared to all, saving all. The rest of the year, some of us hedge our bets, trying to figure out who’s in and who’s out; and even if God’s Grace did appear to all, maybe some have rejected it, or been rejected by it; etc. etc.
Just for the sake of simplicity of thought, I’ve decided to go with the “appeared, bringing salvation to all.” I have enough trouble deciding what kind of toothpaste to buy without the added pressure of figuring out who’s going to heaven and who’s going to hell. I’ll just assume they’re all going to heaven and treat them accordingly and let God worry about it.
GOSPEL LESSON: Luke 21-20 – After twenty-five Christmas Eve’s, I don’t know that I have any fresh new ideas left. I’ve preached this thing from Mary’s point of view, Joseph’s point of view, the Inn keeper’s point of view, even the donkey’s version. After a while, it’s hard to think of a new angle. So I won’t. I’ll just tell you a story.
When I was a little kid, we lived in a four-room house: Living room, Kitchen, Parent’s Bedroom, Children’s bedroom, outhouse in the woods. On Christmas Eve, we went to Grandma and Grandpa’s for dinner, then we came home and went to bed by 9 o’clock, the four of us in one room, all of us under ten.
Daddy always reminded us that if we heard noise in the night we should stay in bed, because Santa would take our presents back if he caught us peeking.
Early on Christmas morning, long before dawn, we slipped from our bedroom to the living room next door. We opened our presents and squealed with delight, our mouths full of candy we found in our stockings. Suddenly we were aware of a presence in the room, then we heard a loud noise, like a cow stuck in a barbed wire fence.
We turned a saw upon the couch a large man with white hair and a beard, tall black boots sitting on the floor, he was asleep snoring loudly, his huge belly going u and down in fretful rhythm. We were, to use a Biblical phrase, “sore afraid”, for we were sure we knew who this visitor was. We did the only thing we could do:
We gathered up all the toys and candy and hid them in our beds, then we retired there too, cowering in the dark and cold, waiting for him to leave.
A couple of hours later our parents came to see why we were not around the tree. “Is he gone?” we asked. “Is who gone?” they said. “You know, Him. Santa,” we said. I thought my mother would die laughing, I really did.
Our visitor was her Uncle James, her mother’s brother, a man once described by her own brother as “the most worthless human being God ever devised.” James had showed up around midnight, on foot and a bit tipsy, on Christmas Eve with nowhere to go. And my parents put him to bed in the only place they had, the living Room couch in front of the Christmas Tree.
I have seen many Christmas plays and movies, I have heard and preached many Christmas Eve sermons, but none has taught me more than the night my parents made sure there was room for one in need, even if he didn’t deserve it.
Merry Christmas,
Delmo
I grew up on a farm and I used to know what true darkness was, but then I went off to college and eventually spent years living in small towns, suburbs and cities and forgot.
Too many street lights and well-lit parking lots for true darkness to exist.
Then I moved to Clay County, North Carolina. We are, the saying goes, “two hours from anything and darned glad of it.” I have become reacquainted with true darkness, a dark so thick you can’t see your hand in front of your face. Believe you me, walking in such darkness is frightening and genuinely dangerous.
We have motion detector lights on the house, ready to come on when you drive up and to go off a few minutes later. One night I arrived home and discovered the lights would not come on and I had no flashlight in the car. I turned on the headlights to see my way to the house, then flipped the porch light switch. Nothing. Well, I couldn’t let the car lights burn all night and run down the battery. I went and turned them off and felt my way into the house and over to the couch. Complete and total darkness, I was a afraid to move, afraid of misunderstanding where I was and falling down the steps to the basement, of tripping over furniture. And then the lights came on. The power had been restored.
And I was safe again.
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them the light had shined.” Without the light of Holy Love, our world is dark indeed.
SECOND LESSON: Titus 2:11-14: “For the Grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all.” There is an interesting textual footnote in the Oxford Annotated Bible, NRSV edition. After “all” there is a footnote indicator and the note says “Or has appeared to all, bringing salvation.”
It’s an interesting difference and may delineate the world of Christianity as well as any other dividing line. It all depends on where you put the “to all.” Did the Grace of God appear to all, saving some; or did the Grace of God appear, saving all?
It is a revealing template to place on top of our differences of theology in the Christian world. Its not just about limited versus universal atonement; its about how genuinely inclusive is God’s grace? At Christmas time, at least, most of us are universalists, proclaiming God’s grace appeared to all, saving all. The rest of the year, some of us hedge our bets, trying to figure out who’s in and who’s out; and even if God’s Grace did appear to all, maybe some have rejected it, or been rejected by it; etc. etc.
Just for the sake of simplicity of thought, I’ve decided to go with the “appeared, bringing salvation to all.” I have enough trouble deciding what kind of toothpaste to buy without the added pressure of figuring out who’s going to heaven and who’s going to hell. I’ll just assume they’re all going to heaven and treat them accordingly and let God worry about it.
GOSPEL LESSON: Luke 21-20 – After twenty-five Christmas Eve’s, I don’t know that I have any fresh new ideas left. I’ve preached this thing from Mary’s point of view, Joseph’s point of view, the Inn keeper’s point of view, even the donkey’s version. After a while, it’s hard to think of a new angle. So I won’t. I’ll just tell you a story.
When I was a little kid, we lived in a four-room house: Living room, Kitchen, Parent’s Bedroom, Children’s bedroom, outhouse in the woods. On Christmas Eve, we went to Grandma and Grandpa’s for dinner, then we came home and went to bed by 9 o’clock, the four of us in one room, all of us under ten.
Daddy always reminded us that if we heard noise in the night we should stay in bed, because Santa would take our presents back if he caught us peeking.
Early on Christmas morning, long before dawn, we slipped from our bedroom to the living room next door. We opened our presents and squealed with delight, our mouths full of candy we found in our stockings. Suddenly we were aware of a presence in the room, then we heard a loud noise, like a cow stuck in a barbed wire fence.
We turned a saw upon the couch a large man with white hair and a beard, tall black boots sitting on the floor, he was asleep snoring loudly, his huge belly going u and down in fretful rhythm. We were, to use a Biblical phrase, “sore afraid”, for we were sure we knew who this visitor was. We did the only thing we could do:
We gathered up all the toys and candy and hid them in our beds, then we retired there too, cowering in the dark and cold, waiting for him to leave.
A couple of hours later our parents came to see why we were not around the tree. “Is he gone?” we asked. “Is who gone?” they said. “You know, Him. Santa,” we said. I thought my mother would die laughing, I really did.
Our visitor was her Uncle James, her mother’s brother, a man once described by her own brother as “the most worthless human being God ever devised.” James had showed up around midnight, on foot and a bit tipsy, on Christmas Eve with nowhere to go. And my parents put him to bed in the only place they had, the living Room couch in front of the Christmas Tree.
I have seen many Christmas plays and movies, I have heard and preached many Christmas Eve sermons, but none has taught me more than the night my parents made sure there was room for one in need, even if he didn’t deserve it.
Merry Christmas,
Delmo
Thursday, December 15, 2005
ADVENT IV: RCL Texts for Dec. 18, 2005
First Reading: 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16 "Vs. 2" . . .the king (David) said to the prophet Nathan, "See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent."
The standard understanding of this text and its connection with Advent is pretty simple. It plays on the usages of the word HOUSE. David lives in a house of cedar and offfers to build God a House (TEMPLE) of cedar or stone, but God counter-offers with the promise of making of David a great house (DYNASTY, heriditary kingdom). The people of Israel remembered this promise in the post-exilic time and it became a part of the messianic hope. Okay.
But when I read the verse above, I thought of my days working for my future father in law on his farm in Eastern North Carolina, down between Raleigh and the coast. I'm from the Northwest mountains, an area which had no plantations and subsequently had few African-Americans. The North Carolina Coastal plain was Plantation country, mostly tobacco, and had a large African-American population. My work on the farm during college was my introduction to the southern, rural, African-American subculture.
One of my duties was to pick up the day laborers around 6 AM and take them back home at the end of the day. Whenever I asked a rider for directions I would say, "Where do you LIVE?" and they would reply, "I STAY on Oak Street." or "I STAY at Mr. Willie Thomas' place." None of them LIVED anywhere, they all STAYED places.
I pondered this language often. It was, of course, a result of slavery and then share-cropping and lack of home ownership and frequent change of rental properties and tenant arrangements.
I noticed that middle-class African-Americans did not use the term referencing their own homes, but still used it in relation to various ancestors or relatives living in the country.
So the phrase "I LIVE in a house made of cedar, while the ark of God STAYS in a tent," really grabbed me. It cast me back to the days of hauling around day-laborers and poor folks, people who didn't count for much in the culture in which they lived, and it made me think of our Gospel lesson for Christ the King, just a month ago, where Jesus reminded us of our duty to ". . . .the least of these my brethren," and it made me think of the ARK of God and where does it stay?, and it does, of course, stay with the poor and the needy, those housed in tents and under bridges and those who get kicked out of houses, and those who don't count in the society and culture in which they exist, those who do not LIVE here, they just STAY here, in America. And it made me think of a little boy born so many years ago, who stayed in an open lean-to shed because there was no room for him to live inside the house.
And what kind of HOUSE are we called to build for those who are forced to STAY out in the cold in America? Well, we are called to the simple task, the concrete job, of finding ways to house these folks, through Habitat for Humanity, or Hinton Center's Affordable Housing Program, or hundreds of other hands-on projects around the country.
But we are also called to help in building another kind of house, a DYNASTY if you will. I believe we are called to be a part of the political process and to find a way to reverse the trends of recent years which have allowed the rich to grow richer while the poor grow poorer. In America, we the people are the Government, we are the rulers of this land, and we have a moral, ethical obligation to tend to the needs of those who are being sytematically pushed out of
a living place in this society, those who are being forced to a life of staying here and there and living, really living, nowhere. (And No, I'm not a Democrat, or a Republican, I'm a Christian.)
GOSPEL LESSON: Luke 1:26-38 Vs. 29 " . . .But she was much PERPLEXED by his words and PONDERED what sort of greeting this might be."
I love Biblical understatement. If an angel showed up in my room and and made thinly veiled intimations of Divine, er, intervention, in my life, I would be a bit more than perplexed; I would be down right terrified and seriously concerned about my sanity. I would be pondering a visit to my friendly neighbourhood psychiatrist.
There are other things about the first noel which give me cause to pause, which perplex me and provoke me to pondering. Every year, I find myself perplexed once again by the very good question often posed to me by a dear Jewish friend. I will put it in his irrreverent form;
"If Jesus was the Messiah, why does the world still suck?"
You have to admit, it's a good question. If Jesus was the Messiah, why all the wars and violence and evil and heartache etc. etc. The Messianic promise was for someone to come and set things aright. Well, things are not right, they are still horribly awry. Millions died in the 20th century in two world wars and in the holocaust and brutal annilation and genocide campaigns and epidemics, etc. You get the picture, you read the news.
If Jesus was, is, our savior, why doesn't the world look more saved? Can we make do with the answer that its not about changing the world, its about saving our souls? An internal, not external salvation? Do you really think that explanation is sufficient for the woman dying of aids in Africa or the child starving to death in Bangladesh?
If you are going to preach that Jesus is the saviour of the world, realize the world doesn't look very saved and define how the Christ has come and does save, or keep your mouth shut. The last thing the world needs is a bunch of sentimental blather about "the Christmas Spirit".
As I said, it's a perplexing question, and the only way out is not an answer but a commitment.
The PSALMODY for today is the MAGNIFICAT, the song of Mary in Luke 1:47-55.
If we are to say that Jesus is the Saviour of the world, we are called to join with Jesus in his saving activity which means being a part of the work of God described in vs. 52-53; "He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty."
If the Baby born in Bethlehem is the saviour of the world, the Kings of kings and Lord of lords,
then it behooves us to be about our Saviour's business.
Peace,
Delmo
The standard understanding of this text and its connection with Advent is pretty simple. It plays on the usages of the word HOUSE. David lives in a house of cedar and offfers to build God a House (TEMPLE) of cedar or stone, but God counter-offers with the promise of making of David a great house (DYNASTY, heriditary kingdom). The people of Israel remembered this promise in the post-exilic time and it became a part of the messianic hope. Okay.
But when I read the verse above, I thought of my days working for my future father in law on his farm in Eastern North Carolina, down between Raleigh and the coast. I'm from the Northwest mountains, an area which had no plantations and subsequently had few African-Americans. The North Carolina Coastal plain was Plantation country, mostly tobacco, and had a large African-American population. My work on the farm during college was my introduction to the southern, rural, African-American subculture.
One of my duties was to pick up the day laborers around 6 AM and take them back home at the end of the day. Whenever I asked a rider for directions I would say, "Where do you LIVE?" and they would reply, "I STAY on Oak Street." or "I STAY at Mr. Willie Thomas' place." None of them LIVED anywhere, they all STAYED places.
I pondered this language often. It was, of course, a result of slavery and then share-cropping and lack of home ownership and frequent change of rental properties and tenant arrangements.
I noticed that middle-class African-Americans did not use the term referencing their own homes, but still used it in relation to various ancestors or relatives living in the country.
So the phrase "I LIVE in a house made of cedar, while the ark of God STAYS in a tent," really grabbed me. It cast me back to the days of hauling around day-laborers and poor folks, people who didn't count for much in the culture in which they lived, and it made me think of our Gospel lesson for Christ the King, just a month ago, where Jesus reminded us of our duty to ". . . .the least of these my brethren," and it made me think of the ARK of God and where does it stay?, and it does, of course, stay with the poor and the needy, those housed in tents and under bridges and those who get kicked out of houses, and those who don't count in the society and culture in which they exist, those who do not LIVE here, they just STAY here, in America. And it made me think of a little boy born so many years ago, who stayed in an open lean-to shed because there was no room for him to live inside the house.
And what kind of HOUSE are we called to build for those who are forced to STAY out in the cold in America? Well, we are called to the simple task, the concrete job, of finding ways to house these folks, through Habitat for Humanity, or Hinton Center's Affordable Housing Program, or hundreds of other hands-on projects around the country.
But we are also called to help in building another kind of house, a DYNASTY if you will. I believe we are called to be a part of the political process and to find a way to reverse the trends of recent years which have allowed the rich to grow richer while the poor grow poorer. In America, we the people are the Government, we are the rulers of this land, and we have a moral, ethical obligation to tend to the needs of those who are being sytematically pushed out of
a living place in this society, those who are being forced to a life of staying here and there and living, really living, nowhere. (And No, I'm not a Democrat, or a Republican, I'm a Christian.)
GOSPEL LESSON: Luke 1:26-38 Vs. 29 " . . .But she was much PERPLEXED by his words and PONDERED what sort of greeting this might be."
I love Biblical understatement. If an angel showed up in my room and and made thinly veiled intimations of Divine, er, intervention, in my life, I would be a bit more than perplexed; I would be down right terrified and seriously concerned about my sanity. I would be pondering a visit to my friendly neighbourhood psychiatrist.
There are other things about the first noel which give me cause to pause, which perplex me and provoke me to pondering. Every year, I find myself perplexed once again by the very good question often posed to me by a dear Jewish friend. I will put it in his irrreverent form;
"If Jesus was the Messiah, why does the world still suck?"
You have to admit, it's a good question. If Jesus was the Messiah, why all the wars and violence and evil and heartache etc. etc. The Messianic promise was for someone to come and set things aright. Well, things are not right, they are still horribly awry. Millions died in the 20th century in two world wars and in the holocaust and brutal annilation and genocide campaigns and epidemics, etc. You get the picture, you read the news.
If Jesus was, is, our savior, why doesn't the world look more saved? Can we make do with the answer that its not about changing the world, its about saving our souls? An internal, not external salvation? Do you really think that explanation is sufficient for the woman dying of aids in Africa or the child starving to death in Bangladesh?
If you are going to preach that Jesus is the saviour of the world, realize the world doesn't look very saved and define how the Christ has come and does save, or keep your mouth shut. The last thing the world needs is a bunch of sentimental blather about "the Christmas Spirit".
As I said, it's a perplexing question, and the only way out is not an answer but a commitment.
The PSALMODY for today is the MAGNIFICAT, the song of Mary in Luke 1:47-55.
If we are to say that Jesus is the Saviour of the world, we are called to join with Jesus in his saving activity which means being a part of the work of God described in vs. 52-53; "He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty."
If the Baby born in Bethlehem is the saviour of the world, the Kings of kings and Lord of lords,
then it behooves us to be about our Saviour's business.
Peace,
Delmo
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
ADVENT III: RCL texts for Dec. 11
FIRST READING: Isaiah 61:1-4; 8-11
Verse 1: “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners. . . “
Every time I read this lesson, I think of Jesus first sermon in the synagogue in Nazereth, how he read this text and then said, “Today this is fulfilled in your hearing.” I also think of how this text and those words were the theme of his ministry for the time he had left.
This time, when I read this text I thought of my first sermon. I was 22, a recent UNC-chapel Hill graduate, preparing to enter seminary in September. It was a hot August day in Eastern North Carolina, Asbury United Methodist, Washington NC. I wore a seersucker suit, what I later took to calling a “Matlock” suit.
I don’t know if the sermon was any good. It was the best I could do with no training and no experience. I found the one page outline the other day, (yes, I’m a pack-rat, but only of academic and theological stuff) one page, typed on onion skin paper, marginal notes in my ever present fountain pen scrawl.
It was on faith in the midst of doubt, of hanging on to faith in God in the midst of evidence to the contrary.
What is interesting to me is how that has been the theme of my preaching and my ministry for over almost 30 years; almost every time I look at a text I think, how can I believe that, why should I believe that; even if its true, why does it matter NOW, to ME?
Those are my eternal questions, the questions which drive my preaching and my life.
Here’s question for you: what is YOUR question? What inquiry keeps you going? What do you seek to know that keeps you going, looking, seeking? And where does God fit in to that? Those are the bedrock questions of the spiritual life, without which there is no life, only existence. I guess I would say “The spirit of the Lord God has anointed me TO ASK QUESTIONS . . .”
SECOND READING: I Thessalonians 5:16-24
I got nothing. When Paul gets all exuberant with the exhortations, I just zone out. I’ve read this over four or five times this week, I understand the words, I get the drift, it just leaves me flat. All I can say is, some people like religious talk and others don’t. I don’t .
GOSPEL READING: John 1:6-8, 19-28
Verse 8: “He (John) himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light . . “
Back in the early 80’s, I spent a year doing post-M.Div. studies at the Lutheran Seminary in Columbia SC. One Sunday I was scheduled to preach in Pomaria SC. If you’re not familiar with the area, the Dutch Fork is the area the German Lutherans settled in the 1700’s and its just full of Lutheran churches just west and north west of Columbia.
I couldn’t find the town or the church. Every road had a couple of brick Lutheran Churches. It was less than 15 minutes before the service and I still couldn’t find the church.
My moment of ultimate frustration came at a T crossroads. Their were two signs facing me, pointing in opposite directions, each saying Pomaria 5 miles. There was a farmer in the corner of the field, working on his tractor. I rolled down the window and asked,
“Does it matter which may I go to Pomaria?” He looked at me, he looked at the signs, he spat on the ground and looked back at me, “Not to me it don’t.”
One thing you can say about John, it mattered to him which way people went; he was a sign pointing to Christ. That was is role and he knew it, and he was constantly deflecting attention from himself to Christ, pointing to Christ as the light.
Put another way, John was an icon. I have recently been doing some reading in Orthodox spirituality. In LIGHT THROUGH DARKNESS, John Chryssavgis says, “In the Orthodox tradition, doctrines are merely signposts (otherwise known as icons) in our journey towards God, pointers to (and never propositions about) the divine reality.” P. 58.
We preachers are icons, all Christians are called to be icons, really. We are all pointers to Christ, and the way we point is by the way we live, living out our faith in the world in such a way that people see the light in us and on us and through us.
In his book, THE GREAT GIVEAWAY, David E. Fitch takes on the culture of church growth which has sold out to modernity. He says, in part, “Postmoderns, however, suspect the machinations of consumer oriented messages to have power over them to make “buying” decisions. Instead, postmoderns recognize truth most where it is lived day-to-day one with another.” P.54
It is not our calling to say who Christ is definitively. It is our role to point to the story and to live out the story in our lives. The rest is up to God.
Peace,
delmo
Verse 1: “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners. . . “
Every time I read this lesson, I think of Jesus first sermon in the synagogue in Nazereth, how he read this text and then said, “Today this is fulfilled in your hearing.” I also think of how this text and those words were the theme of his ministry for the time he had left.
This time, when I read this text I thought of my first sermon. I was 22, a recent UNC-chapel Hill graduate, preparing to enter seminary in September. It was a hot August day in Eastern North Carolina, Asbury United Methodist, Washington NC. I wore a seersucker suit, what I later took to calling a “Matlock” suit.
I don’t know if the sermon was any good. It was the best I could do with no training and no experience. I found the one page outline the other day, (yes, I’m a pack-rat, but only of academic and theological stuff) one page, typed on onion skin paper, marginal notes in my ever present fountain pen scrawl.
It was on faith in the midst of doubt, of hanging on to faith in God in the midst of evidence to the contrary.
What is interesting to me is how that has been the theme of my preaching and my ministry for over almost 30 years; almost every time I look at a text I think, how can I believe that, why should I believe that; even if its true, why does it matter NOW, to ME?
Those are my eternal questions, the questions which drive my preaching and my life.
Here’s question for you: what is YOUR question? What inquiry keeps you going? What do you seek to know that keeps you going, looking, seeking? And where does God fit in to that? Those are the bedrock questions of the spiritual life, without which there is no life, only existence. I guess I would say “The spirit of the Lord God has anointed me TO ASK QUESTIONS . . .”
SECOND READING: I Thessalonians 5:16-24
I got nothing. When Paul gets all exuberant with the exhortations, I just zone out. I’ve read this over four or five times this week, I understand the words, I get the drift, it just leaves me flat. All I can say is, some people like religious talk and others don’t. I don’t .
GOSPEL READING: John 1:6-8, 19-28
Verse 8: “He (John) himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light . . “
Back in the early 80’s, I spent a year doing post-M.Div. studies at the Lutheran Seminary in Columbia SC. One Sunday I was scheduled to preach in Pomaria SC. If you’re not familiar with the area, the Dutch Fork is the area the German Lutherans settled in the 1700’s and its just full of Lutheran churches just west and north west of Columbia.
I couldn’t find the town or the church. Every road had a couple of brick Lutheran Churches. It was less than 15 minutes before the service and I still couldn’t find the church.
My moment of ultimate frustration came at a T crossroads. Their were two signs facing me, pointing in opposite directions, each saying Pomaria 5 miles. There was a farmer in the corner of the field, working on his tractor. I rolled down the window and asked,
“Does it matter which may I go to Pomaria?” He looked at me, he looked at the signs, he spat on the ground and looked back at me, “Not to me it don’t.”
One thing you can say about John, it mattered to him which way people went; he was a sign pointing to Christ. That was is role and he knew it, and he was constantly deflecting attention from himself to Christ, pointing to Christ as the light.
Put another way, John was an icon. I have recently been doing some reading in Orthodox spirituality. In LIGHT THROUGH DARKNESS, John Chryssavgis says, “In the Orthodox tradition, doctrines are merely signposts (otherwise known as icons) in our journey towards God, pointers to (and never propositions about) the divine reality.” P. 58.
We preachers are icons, all Christians are called to be icons, really. We are all pointers to Christ, and the way we point is by the way we live, living out our faith in the world in such a way that people see the light in us and on us and through us.
In his book, THE GREAT GIVEAWAY, David E. Fitch takes on the culture of church growth which has sold out to modernity. He says, in part, “Postmoderns, however, suspect the machinations of consumer oriented messages to have power over them to make “buying” decisions. Instead, postmoderns recognize truth most where it is lived day-to-day one with another.” P.54
It is not our calling to say who Christ is definitively. It is our role to point to the story and to live out the story in our lives. The rest is up to God.
Peace,
delmo
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
ADVENT II: RCL texts for Dec. 4, 2005
First Reading: Isaiah 40:1-11: Verse 4: "Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places plain."
I have lived in and around the Appalachian mountains about half my life; the first 20 years or so and now the last 4. A lot of things happened in the intervening 25 years, to me and to the mountains.
If you ask most North Carolinians they will tell you that the next thing after Asheville going West is the Tennessee line. This is true is you're going due West, but if you go Southwest, there's another 2 hour drive before you leave NC.
I remember the first time I came out to Hinton, in the "Far West" as it is called. It was in the late 1970's and it took forever. Up and down hills, along creek bottoms, following "old 64" a paved, two lane road. I think we left Lake Junaluska west of Asheville about 1 PM and got to Hinton Center just in time for dinner at 5:30.
Now, in 2005, I can be to Lake Junaluska in about an hour and a half. Most of it is four lane, the worst of it is ten times better than the best of it 30 years ago.
In order to do it, they had to follow the directions of our text; they lifted up the valleys,
made low the hills and mountains, leveled out the rough places.
While I have my doubts about the long term good of opening up the Great Smokies to more and more cars and pollution, one thing is certain; it provided ease of travel for the people who live here and those who want to come here.
Of course, the text has to do not with road-grading, but with the preparattion of the heart, of making it easy, or easier, for the Holy to come in. Sometimes we act as though Spirituality should be difficult, arduous, a trek. Well, maybe our journey should be hard, but our journey is the process of clearing the road, of getting things out of the way, of removing the stumbling blocks to God, so that when God comes, God easily can get to us, hopefully in time for dinner.
Second Reading: 2 Peter 3:8-15a - verese 9 "The LORD is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance."
What does it mean to repent? Does it mean to feel sorry, or does it mean to be really, really sorry that you got caught? Well, neither really. Those things are signified by feeling remorse, by being rueful but repentance is not a feeling, it is an action. And it is not a one time, took care of that mistake type of action; rather it is a complete reorientation change of life type of action.
Repentance means to turn from one thing to another, in this case to turn from sin to God. As such, it is not a matter of looking back on the past and feeling sorry for screwing up.
It is more a looking to the future and seeing oneself as a changed person, living fully and honestly in and with God. The only thing it has to do with the past is the turning away from the past in order to embrace God's future.
GOSPEL: Mark 1:1-8 - Verse 1: "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God."
My oldest son has always been something of a cryptic writer. He hates to waste words, which is a good thing, most of the time. All through High School I read and edited his papers and continually had to goad him into unpacking his dense prose to make it more understandable. He wrote like the mathematician he is, using words as symbols and sentences as equations.
I was reminded of this tendency over the Thanksgiving break when he asked me to read his Departmental Honors paper. It's about computer science and physics and math and astronomy and radio satalite data and . . . well, you get the idea. He really has improved his writing. I was able to understand those parts an educated amateur should have understood, but he did have a few lapses into sentence as equation, but not too bad.
This first line of Mark's Gospel reminded me a bit of David's writing, a whole lot crammed into a few words, a formula, an equation almost. It's not even a sentence, there's no verb. It's more like a title or a sulatation.
The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Very first line and Mark lays it all out there. Good News, Christ, Son of God. These are not idle words, throwaway lines, Mark is not a good writer, but he is not a careless one either. Let me restate that. Mark is a good writer with a limited Greek vocabulary and he uses that vocabulary pointedly to make his case plain.
As we move into the Advent/pre-Christmas time, Mark's words are a good reminder to us that we are about serious business. About gospel business. It's not just time to trim the tree and give presents and parties. It's time to remember about the one who came as a baby with a threat of death over his head, the one who left heaven's comfort to muck around down here with us, the one who is our LORD, but who chose to be our servant.
It is a mysterious time in which we have an opportunity to play round with the meanings of God's obscure equations in our lives.
Peace,
Delmer
I have lived in and around the Appalachian mountains about half my life; the first 20 years or so and now the last 4. A lot of things happened in the intervening 25 years, to me and to the mountains.
If you ask most North Carolinians they will tell you that the next thing after Asheville going West is the Tennessee line. This is true is you're going due West, but if you go Southwest, there's another 2 hour drive before you leave NC.
I remember the first time I came out to Hinton, in the "Far West" as it is called. It was in the late 1970's and it took forever. Up and down hills, along creek bottoms, following "old 64" a paved, two lane road. I think we left Lake Junaluska west of Asheville about 1 PM and got to Hinton Center just in time for dinner at 5:30.
Now, in 2005, I can be to Lake Junaluska in about an hour and a half. Most of it is four lane, the worst of it is ten times better than the best of it 30 years ago.
In order to do it, they had to follow the directions of our text; they lifted up the valleys,
made low the hills and mountains, leveled out the rough places.
While I have my doubts about the long term good of opening up the Great Smokies to more and more cars and pollution, one thing is certain; it provided ease of travel for the people who live here and those who want to come here.
Of course, the text has to do not with road-grading, but with the preparattion of the heart, of making it easy, or easier, for the Holy to come in. Sometimes we act as though Spirituality should be difficult, arduous, a trek. Well, maybe our journey should be hard, but our journey is the process of clearing the road, of getting things out of the way, of removing the stumbling blocks to God, so that when God comes, God easily can get to us, hopefully in time for dinner.
Second Reading: 2 Peter 3:8-15a - verese 9 "The LORD is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance."
What does it mean to repent? Does it mean to feel sorry, or does it mean to be really, really sorry that you got caught? Well, neither really. Those things are signified by feeling remorse, by being rueful but repentance is not a feeling, it is an action. And it is not a one time, took care of that mistake type of action; rather it is a complete reorientation change of life type of action.
Repentance means to turn from one thing to another, in this case to turn from sin to God. As such, it is not a matter of looking back on the past and feeling sorry for screwing up.
It is more a looking to the future and seeing oneself as a changed person, living fully and honestly in and with God. The only thing it has to do with the past is the turning away from the past in order to embrace God's future.
GOSPEL: Mark 1:1-8 - Verse 1: "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God."
My oldest son has always been something of a cryptic writer. He hates to waste words, which is a good thing, most of the time. All through High School I read and edited his papers and continually had to goad him into unpacking his dense prose to make it more understandable. He wrote like the mathematician he is, using words as symbols and sentences as equations.
I was reminded of this tendency over the Thanksgiving break when he asked me to read his Departmental Honors paper. It's about computer science and physics and math and astronomy and radio satalite data and . . . well, you get the idea. He really has improved his writing. I was able to understand those parts an educated amateur should have understood, but he did have a few lapses into sentence as equation, but not too bad.
This first line of Mark's Gospel reminded me a bit of David's writing, a whole lot crammed into a few words, a formula, an equation almost. It's not even a sentence, there's no verb. It's more like a title or a sulatation.
The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Very first line and Mark lays it all out there. Good News, Christ, Son of God. These are not idle words, throwaway lines, Mark is not a good writer, but he is not a careless one either. Let me restate that. Mark is a good writer with a limited Greek vocabulary and he uses that vocabulary pointedly to make his case plain.
As we move into the Advent/pre-Christmas time, Mark's words are a good reminder to us that we are about serious business. About gospel business. It's not just time to trim the tree and give presents and parties. It's time to remember about the one who came as a baby with a threat of death over his head, the one who left heaven's comfort to muck around down here with us, the one who is our LORD, but who chose to be our servant.
It is a mysterious time in which we have an opportunity to play round with the meanings of God's obscure equations in our lives.
Peace,
Delmer
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
ADVENT I: RCL Texts for Nov. 27, 2005
I decided this week to publish my sermon for Sunday, a sermon which will be delivered to 15 to 20 people in a "house church" in a retirement community in the mountains of NC. Like Tip O'Neill famously sai of politics, "All preaching is local."
Advent 1
November 27, 2005
Texts: Isaiah 64:1-9
I Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37
Title: Of Waiting and Watching
My Mother-in-law, flat out, makes the best biscuits I ever ate. That is no exaggeration. I could have the sworn affidavits of 25 men who lived in my Dorm at Guilford College at a moment’s notice. Those biscuits are good.
Back when I was a freshman in college, Deborah was still in High School, and I used to go to see her every week-end, a 200 mile round-trip. And every week-end her mother would make me a huge batch of ham biscuits on Sunday afternoon, to take back to college with me.
She was afraid I was starving to death on the College food plan.
I had one of those big Tupperware bowls, I mean big, like a dish-pan. And she would fry up country ham and bake biscuits, and put the ham in the biscuits and pack that Tupperware Bowl full. I kept it on the seat of my 1966 Rambler American as I drove through the North Carolina countryside, eating as many as I could hold during the two-hour trip, because I knew those were all I would get; for I had made the mistake of sharing them with my room-mate once,
and now every Sunday night, ravenous 18 and 19 year old men/boys gathered in my room,
waiting to descend upon that Tupperware Bowl.
I was a very popular fellow at Guilford College, and I owed it all to my girlfriend’s mother’s ham biscuits.
They were terribly unhealthy, I’m sure. Bleached white flour and lard and buttermilk; mixed in a carved wooden bowl that was kept under the sink.But my goodness, they were good.
Even today, just thinking about them makes my mouth water. In the years since Deborah and I married, the frequency with which we visit the farm in Goldsboro NC has dwindled,
from once a month to our current once a year. But, through the years, every time I went,
those biscuits were a constant fixture in the visit.
We would arrive, and there would be a table laden with food, and Jean would say, "Good, you’re here. I can put the biscuits in now." I never told her that the biscuits alone would have been enough for me.
A few years ago, we drove over, arriving deep into the night, so of course, there was no dinner waiting for us. We had told them we would eat on the way. For the last 200 miles, all I could think about was those biscuits. I was sure we would get there, and pile into our beds,
and sleep late the next morning, only to be awakened by the sounds and smells of coffee perking and ham frying and biscuits baking. My mouth watered, my tongue played around my lips. While my family slept, I kept myself awake through the Carolina countryside by thinking of all the ways I would eat Jean’s biscuits; buttered, with jelly, with apple butter, with red-eye gravy, with country ham, with sausage, etc.
The next morning, I awoke, and indeed I smelled the coffee, and the ham frying and I heard the oven door opening and shutting. I got up, washed my face and wandered into the kitchen. I walked over to the table.
Why, there was my old Tupperware bowl, covered with a clean dishtowel, filled with ham biscuits. I smiled at Jean, closed my eyes, reached my hand under that dish towel and grabbed a ham biscuit and put it in my mouth and .......
argh, what is this? This is not one of your biscuits. What is this?
My mother-in-law looked at me blankly and said, "Oh, I don’t make them from scratch anymore. I used the canned ones. They’re so much easier."
I had waited, anticipated, planned, prepared, visioned, this moment; and suddenly, it was wrenched away from me in the blink of an eye. All I had hoped for; gone in the name of progress and convenience. It was, for me, a heart-breaking moment.
Today is the first Sunday of Advent, the time when we begin to wait, to watch, to prepare and plan and anticipate, to envision; God’s future in our midst. It is a time in which our vision of the future can be clouded by our memories of the past.
Indeed, our entire vison of the future can be simply a recreation of what was, so much so that we are unwilling and unable to receive the future God has in store for us.
For many of us, Advent is the time to get ready for Christmas, and our vision of what Christmas will be like has been shaped by our "fuzzy memories" of Christmas past. We have a tendency to forget the uncomfortable moments, the faux paus, the loneliness and the bad parties; those things fade away, and all we remember is the good stuff. And in the glow of the ever present Christmas publicity machine, a Vision of this years Christmas grows, and we do all within our power to make that Vision a reality; and. . . .argh, it almost never happens. Someone, unwittingly, slips some canned biscuits in on us. Things go wrong, we spend too much money, some relative or the other makes an uncomfortable scene about something we didn’t think was important. And so it goes. And somehow, Christmas isn’t as special as we had hoped it would be.
Which is what happens when we build our dreams for the future on fractured and fuzzy memories of the past. We create a hope for a world`that will never be out of the pieces of a world that never was.
All three of our Scripture lessons are about being ready; about being ready for God to act and act decisively in the world and in our lives. And, there is nothing in these texts about building that vision of the future on the recovery of some past Glory of our own. In our texts; God is doing totally new and unprecedented and unexpected things because God is loving and merciful.
In Isaiah, the prophet is speaking to people in exile, people whose nation does not exist anymore. Isreal has been conquered and wiped out, erased from the political map.
Yet Isaiah says something new, and impossible and unheard of is getting ready to happen.
Paul writes to the church in Corinth to remind them not to build their hopes for the future on their past. Indeed, he calls them to break with their past, to continue to wait for the Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of the future.
And in our Gospel lesson, Jesus reminds us that we cannot know when or how
God will act; so, we must always be ready, and being ready means being about the Lord’s business TODAY, with our eyes on the future, not on the past.
So, what does that mean for us here, today, at Holy Family. Well, it means a number of things.
1)It means we must enjoy our Christmas; but not lay more weight on it than it can bear. We must realize that our memories of the past are filtered through a lens of time and desire, and that no Christmas was ever as good or as bad as we remember it, so we should go easy on the anticipation and smile when somebody hands us some "canned biscuits".
2) We must take time this Advent season to watch and pray and seek a new vision,
a vision of the new thing God is doing in our midst, God is building a new church, a new community of faith.
3) We must commit ourselves to that new vision. We must commit ourselves to this new thing God is doing in, with and through us. For we are fulfilling Isaiah’s vision,
we are building the Lord’s house on the mountain,
we are creating a place where many people shall come to worship.
God is acting in us to create a house of the God of Jacob
in which we can teach God’s ways,
in which people shall learn to walk in God’s path.
We are building our Vision for all God’s children,
and it will be like nothing we have ever seen or heard before.
THANKS BE TO GOD! AMEN.
Peace,
Delmo
Advent 1
November 27, 2005
Texts: Isaiah 64:1-9
I Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37
Title: Of Waiting and Watching
My Mother-in-law, flat out, makes the best biscuits I ever ate. That is no exaggeration. I could have the sworn affidavits of 25 men who lived in my Dorm at Guilford College at a moment’s notice. Those biscuits are good.
Back when I was a freshman in college, Deborah was still in High School, and I used to go to see her every week-end, a 200 mile round-trip. And every week-end her mother would make me a huge batch of ham biscuits on Sunday afternoon, to take back to college with me.
She was afraid I was starving to death on the College food plan.
I had one of those big Tupperware bowls, I mean big, like a dish-pan. And she would fry up country ham and bake biscuits, and put the ham in the biscuits and pack that Tupperware Bowl full. I kept it on the seat of my 1966 Rambler American as I drove through the North Carolina countryside, eating as many as I could hold during the two-hour trip, because I knew those were all I would get; for I had made the mistake of sharing them with my room-mate once,
and now every Sunday night, ravenous 18 and 19 year old men/boys gathered in my room,
waiting to descend upon that Tupperware Bowl.
I was a very popular fellow at Guilford College, and I owed it all to my girlfriend’s mother’s ham biscuits.
They were terribly unhealthy, I’m sure. Bleached white flour and lard and buttermilk; mixed in a carved wooden bowl that was kept under the sink.But my goodness, they were good.
Even today, just thinking about them makes my mouth water. In the years since Deborah and I married, the frequency with which we visit the farm in Goldsboro NC has dwindled,
from once a month to our current once a year. But, through the years, every time I went,
those biscuits were a constant fixture in the visit.
We would arrive, and there would be a table laden with food, and Jean would say, "Good, you’re here. I can put the biscuits in now." I never told her that the biscuits alone would have been enough for me.
A few years ago, we drove over, arriving deep into the night, so of course, there was no dinner waiting for us. We had told them we would eat on the way. For the last 200 miles, all I could think about was those biscuits. I was sure we would get there, and pile into our beds,
and sleep late the next morning, only to be awakened by the sounds and smells of coffee perking and ham frying and biscuits baking. My mouth watered, my tongue played around my lips. While my family slept, I kept myself awake through the Carolina countryside by thinking of all the ways I would eat Jean’s biscuits; buttered, with jelly, with apple butter, with red-eye gravy, with country ham, with sausage, etc.
The next morning, I awoke, and indeed I smelled the coffee, and the ham frying and I heard the oven door opening and shutting. I got up, washed my face and wandered into the kitchen. I walked over to the table.
Why, there was my old Tupperware bowl, covered with a clean dishtowel, filled with ham biscuits. I smiled at Jean, closed my eyes, reached my hand under that dish towel and grabbed a ham biscuit and put it in my mouth and .......
argh, what is this? This is not one of your biscuits. What is this?
My mother-in-law looked at me blankly and said, "Oh, I don’t make them from scratch anymore. I used the canned ones. They’re so much easier."
I had waited, anticipated, planned, prepared, visioned, this moment; and suddenly, it was wrenched away from me in the blink of an eye. All I had hoped for; gone in the name of progress and convenience. It was, for me, a heart-breaking moment.
Today is the first Sunday of Advent, the time when we begin to wait, to watch, to prepare and plan and anticipate, to envision; God’s future in our midst. It is a time in which our vision of the future can be clouded by our memories of the past.
Indeed, our entire vison of the future can be simply a recreation of what was, so much so that we are unwilling and unable to receive the future God has in store for us.
For many of us, Advent is the time to get ready for Christmas, and our vision of what Christmas will be like has been shaped by our "fuzzy memories" of Christmas past. We have a tendency to forget the uncomfortable moments, the faux paus, the loneliness and the bad parties; those things fade away, and all we remember is the good stuff. And in the glow of the ever present Christmas publicity machine, a Vision of this years Christmas grows, and we do all within our power to make that Vision a reality; and. . . .argh, it almost never happens. Someone, unwittingly, slips some canned biscuits in on us. Things go wrong, we spend too much money, some relative or the other makes an uncomfortable scene about something we didn’t think was important. And so it goes. And somehow, Christmas isn’t as special as we had hoped it would be.
Which is what happens when we build our dreams for the future on fractured and fuzzy memories of the past. We create a hope for a world`that will never be out of the pieces of a world that never was.
All three of our Scripture lessons are about being ready; about being ready for God to act and act decisively in the world and in our lives. And, there is nothing in these texts about building that vision of the future on the recovery of some past Glory of our own. In our texts; God is doing totally new and unprecedented and unexpected things because God is loving and merciful.
In Isaiah, the prophet is speaking to people in exile, people whose nation does not exist anymore. Isreal has been conquered and wiped out, erased from the political map.
Yet Isaiah says something new, and impossible and unheard of is getting ready to happen.
Paul writes to the church in Corinth to remind them not to build their hopes for the future on their past. Indeed, he calls them to break with their past, to continue to wait for the Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of the future.
And in our Gospel lesson, Jesus reminds us that we cannot know when or how
God will act; so, we must always be ready, and being ready means being about the Lord’s business TODAY, with our eyes on the future, not on the past.
So, what does that mean for us here, today, at Holy Family. Well, it means a number of things.
1)It means we must enjoy our Christmas; but not lay more weight on it than it can bear. We must realize that our memories of the past are filtered through a lens of time and desire, and that no Christmas was ever as good or as bad as we remember it, so we should go easy on the anticipation and smile when somebody hands us some "canned biscuits".
2) We must take time this Advent season to watch and pray and seek a new vision,
a vision of the new thing God is doing in our midst, God is building a new church, a new community of faith.
3) We must commit ourselves to that new vision. We must commit ourselves to this new thing God is doing in, with and through us. For we are fulfilling Isaiah’s vision,
we are building the Lord’s house on the mountain,
we are creating a place where many people shall come to worship.
God is acting in us to create a house of the God of Jacob
in which we can teach God’s ways,
in which people shall learn to walk in God’s path.
We are building our Vision for all God’s children,
and it will be like nothing we have ever seen or heard before.
THANKS BE TO GOD! AMEN.
Peace,
Delmo
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