The Second Sunday in Lent
Texts: Luke 13:31-35
My Grandma Hubbard used to get eggs from the Hodges who lived down the dirt road about a mile. When I was about 5 or 6, Grandma and I would walk down there on a cool summer’s evening.
We would sit on the porch and talk and drink lemonade; sometimes I could persuade Mrs. Hodges to play the little pump organ in the living room by agreeing to pump the pedals for her. (Her legs hurt.)
Eventually we would go with Mr. Hodges out past the hen-house to the spring-house, where he kept his eggs (and the family’s milk and butter) in little wire cages submerged in a concrete tank feed by a mountain spring.
We put the eggs in little pails padded with dishcloths and walked home for supper, probably bacon and eggs with biscuit, ‘cause grandma wasn’t particular about exactly when she had breakfast.
She only put a few in my basket, because I was famous for not ever making it home without breaking all the eggs in my pail.
One day we came out of the spring-house and an awful fuss arose in the chicken yard.
There was a raising of dust, and a flurry of feathers and a scattering of hens and chickens, and much screeching and squawking, and then, just as suddenly, things calmed down and an old gray hen emerged with a large black snake in her mouth.
I thought of that day again when I read today’s Gospel lesson. The first thing that leapt out at me was Jesus’ barnyard imagery;
Herod, the king, the worldly power portrayed as a fox in the chicken yard, with Messiah, the Christ, portrayed as a Bold Female, risking all to protect her chicks. It’s an interesting play of images.
As our Gospel lesson begins, Jesus is told that he should be afraid, he should watch out, that the evil King Herod is out to get him.
Jesus appears to be unafraid, of either Herod or dying. It would be appropriate for Jesus to be scared, but Jesus shows no fear, instead he taunts Herod, saying, come and get me, or better yet, I’ll come to you.
No true prophet can die outside Jerusalem.
At the mention of Jerusalem, Jesus’ tone changes.
He cries over the people, laments their misguided rejection of God’s messengers of truth and love.
And then comes this most startling image: God, Christ, as a Mother Hen protecting her children from the evil fox in their midst.
Jerusalem is Israel and Israel is us, all of us, all of humanity.
The truth is that God has loved us, all of us,
from the very beginning,
from the time of creation,
from the time of Noah and the flood,
from the time of Abram and Sari and the Promise, from the time of Moses and Miriam and the Exodus, from the time of Deborah
and the other judges of Israel
and the kings and queens
and prophets and psalmists,
God has loved the world
and sent us signs and wonders
and messages of that love.
And all too often, we have failed to understand or respond to that love.
All too often, we have turned God’s Word of love into a life of hate, we have turned God’s call to repentance into pointing fingers and a call to arms.
The sly fox of the world has turned us away from that which is good and eternal and has pulled us in the direction of those things which satisfy now but do not linger and live with us for an eternity with God.
If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, then you understand the sadness in Jesus’ voice here.
If you’ve ever watched someone waste their life away on drugs or booze or bad relationships or chasing after material possessions or honors or notoriety or celebrity, or something.
Something undefined but just around the corner that will, they hope, make them whole and complete and healed, but which is never there; then you know the pain Jesus feels.
For you cannot save them, you cannot make them change, you cannot make anyone give up the things that are ruining them.
All you can do is open your arms, you cannot make anyone walk into them. (Repeat)
And, it is the most vulnerable posture in the world, arms spread, chest exposed.
Or, to continue Jesus’ Mother Hen imagery, Wings spread, Breast exposed.
It is interesting that this turns out to be the way Jesus died in Jerusalem, Wings spread, Breast exposed.
Jesus was able to face down and laugh at Herod the fox because he had faith in the God of Promise, the God who promises and follows through, Jesus had faith in the God who promised Abram and Sarai that they would have a Son and that they would be the parents of a people who filled the earth.
Jesus was able to go to the cross because he believed the Psalmists when he said,
The LORD is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid?
In the middle of the night, when the fox is loose in the henhouse of our lives, we grow fearful and we wonder: where is God, will God come?
And Jesus is the promise that YES! God comes.
She boldly comes across the chickenyard - clucking and screeching, Wings spread, Breast Exposed!
She comes, to rescue, protect, save her children.
Yes, God comes, that is the promise Jesus made and that is the promise Jesus kept upon the cross,
where he sheltered us from the devil’s wrath and saved us from ourselves so that we might live forever in God’s love.
Amen and Amen.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Lent 1, Feb. 21, 2010
LENT I
February 21, 2010
Text: Luke 4:1-13
(A sermon preached at Christ Lutheran Church, Prattville, AL.)
Several years ago someone gave me a tee-shirt that I absolutely loved. I wore it so much I wore it out.
Just the other day, I was dusting the furniture and found its remnants in the rag box. It read:
“To do is to be” – PLATO
“To be is to do” – DESCARTES
“Dobedobedo” - SINATRA
What we do, how be behave, what we believe; is a large part of how others define us.
Pastor, teacher, housewife, student, musician, funny, quiet, aggressive, talkative, etc.
And how we define ourselves has a major effect on how we behave.
It is, at times, a chicken and the egg question.
Which came first? Am I a Pastor because I do pastoral things; or do I do pastoral things because I am a Pastor?
The biblical position is that we act out of our identity; that who we believe ourselves to be is the determining factor in what we choose to do.
Have you ever noticed that when someone behaves in an outrageous or improper or, most often, horribly RUDE manner, the first thing people say is: “Well, just who do you think you are?”
That is the right question. Who we think we are shapes our behavior.
And the Bible shows us that Satan knew this. That is why he challenged Jesus on the point of identity in today’s Gospel lesson.
The key to understanding the story of the temptations lies in the THREE little words: IF YOU ARE.
In the last verse of Chapter Three, verse 22, following Jesus’ baptism, a voice comes from heaven and says,
“This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
And here just a few days later, the devil says, “If you are the Son of God.”
Satan presents Jesus with the opportunity to define what it means to be the Son of God;
He is given the opportunity to win popularity by turning stones into bread,
feeding the masses and feeding his ego at the same time,
He is given the opportunity to achieve great power by worshipping the devil and turning his back on trusting God to provide.
He is given the opportunity to achieve great fame by throwing himself off the temple and showing himself to be God’s Chosen One by letting the angels catch him.
These temptations invite Jesus to imitate the Emperors in Rome who secured power by giving the people free food and free entertainment, winning their favor with bread and gladiators.
The temptations with which Jesus was faced are the very ones we, you and I, fall victim to on a regular, I would almost say, a daily basis.
In little subtle ways we seek popularity or power or possessions as a way of hedging our bets against the uncertainty of the world.
After all, we live in an age in which terrorists strap on bombs and blow up innocent people, stock markets plunge and housing prices fall, where wars rage and tornados strike and earthquakes break open the very ground beneath our feet.
A little control over our own lives and a bit of money securely invested, what’s wrong with that?
It comes down to a matter of faith, of trust, of belief and confidence in the promises of God to love and care for us throughout life’s trials and temptations.
The problem is: the things the Devil wanted Jesus to do as the Son of God are selfish, and self-serving and ultimately self-glorifying.
And Jesus rejected them because being centered on self is inconsistent with being the Christ, the Beloved, the Son of God, the one sent to save others.
It was during the forty days in the wilderness that Jesus struggled with what it meant to be the Son of God.
When he became clear about that identity, he came out of the wilderness, and began to preach the Kingdom of God and to perform mighty acts of healing and exorcism.
In the forty days in the wilderness, Jesus found out who he was and came forth ready to behave in accord with his identity.
When Jesus knew who he was, the question of what he was to do was already answered.
To be the Christ, the Son of God, laid out for him a path to follow, a way of being in the world that led to certain things to do.
Preaching. Healing. Confronting Evil.
Throughout these forty days of Lent we are called to contemplate the life of Jesus, his path of service and obedience to God, his living out his identity as the Son of God.
As we do that, we must ask ourselves some identity questions, personally and congregationally.
Who am I? Who am I, really? And what is God calling me to do?
Who are we? Who are we, really? And what is God calling us to do?
Not too long ago I turned on the TV to watch a ballgame and caught the tail end of an old episode of LAW AND ORDER.
Two lawyers, one white, one black, were sitting in a book lined office, having a drink and discussing the just ended case.
The Black lawyer said, “I used to think I was a lawyer who happened to be Black. Now I feel more like a Black man who happens to be a lawyer.”
It is a question of identity that will shape his life and work.
Who am I? Am I a lawyer, or doctor, or policeman, or office manager, or teacher, or truck-driver or nurse, or retiree who happens to be a Christian?
Or am I a Christian; who happens to be a lawyer or doctor or policeman, etc.
It is an important question, and the answer will shape your life.
Likewise, as a congregation, as a community, we struggle with identity questions.
Who are we, really? Are we a gathering of like-minded people, a little ELCA Lutheran enclave in Prattville?
If so, then the things we do should be designed to take care of ourselves.
Or are we a people whom God has called together to be the Body of Christ, as Luther says in the Small Catechism: Called, gathered, empowered and sent?
Called to be a Christian, gathered around Word and Sacrament, Empowered by the Holy Spirit, Sent into the world to spread the Love of God.
If that is who we are (and I believe it is) then the things we do will be designed to care for others.
Jesus spent forty days in the Wilderness struggling with the question of identity, struggling to discover what it meant to be the Son of God.
Throughout the forty days of Lent, we are called to do the same.
We must ask ourselves,
If we are the beloved children of God, what is God calling us to do?
Christ Church, Prattville; just WHO do you think you are?
Amen and amen.
February 21, 2010
Text: Luke 4:1-13
(A sermon preached at Christ Lutheran Church, Prattville, AL.)
Several years ago someone gave me a tee-shirt that I absolutely loved. I wore it so much I wore it out.
Just the other day, I was dusting the furniture and found its remnants in the rag box. It read:
“To do is to be” – PLATO
“To be is to do” – DESCARTES
“Dobedobedo” - SINATRA
What we do, how be behave, what we believe; is a large part of how others define us.
Pastor, teacher, housewife, student, musician, funny, quiet, aggressive, talkative, etc.
And how we define ourselves has a major effect on how we behave.
It is, at times, a chicken and the egg question.
Which came first? Am I a Pastor because I do pastoral things; or do I do pastoral things because I am a Pastor?
The biblical position is that we act out of our identity; that who we believe ourselves to be is the determining factor in what we choose to do.
Have you ever noticed that when someone behaves in an outrageous or improper or, most often, horribly RUDE manner, the first thing people say is: “Well, just who do you think you are?”
That is the right question. Who we think we are shapes our behavior.
And the Bible shows us that Satan knew this. That is why he challenged Jesus on the point of identity in today’s Gospel lesson.
The key to understanding the story of the temptations lies in the THREE little words: IF YOU ARE.
In the last verse of Chapter Three, verse 22, following Jesus’ baptism, a voice comes from heaven and says,
“This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
And here just a few days later, the devil says, “If you are the Son of God.”
Satan presents Jesus with the opportunity to define what it means to be the Son of God;
He is given the opportunity to win popularity by turning stones into bread,
feeding the masses and feeding his ego at the same time,
He is given the opportunity to achieve great power by worshipping the devil and turning his back on trusting God to provide.
He is given the opportunity to achieve great fame by throwing himself off the temple and showing himself to be God’s Chosen One by letting the angels catch him.
These temptations invite Jesus to imitate the Emperors in Rome who secured power by giving the people free food and free entertainment, winning their favor with bread and gladiators.
The temptations with which Jesus was faced are the very ones we, you and I, fall victim to on a regular, I would almost say, a daily basis.
In little subtle ways we seek popularity or power or possessions as a way of hedging our bets against the uncertainty of the world.
After all, we live in an age in which terrorists strap on bombs and blow up innocent people, stock markets plunge and housing prices fall, where wars rage and tornados strike and earthquakes break open the very ground beneath our feet.
A little control over our own lives and a bit of money securely invested, what’s wrong with that?
It comes down to a matter of faith, of trust, of belief and confidence in the promises of God to love and care for us throughout life’s trials and temptations.
The problem is: the things the Devil wanted Jesus to do as the Son of God are selfish, and self-serving and ultimately self-glorifying.
And Jesus rejected them because being centered on self is inconsistent with being the Christ, the Beloved, the Son of God, the one sent to save others.
It was during the forty days in the wilderness that Jesus struggled with what it meant to be the Son of God.
When he became clear about that identity, he came out of the wilderness, and began to preach the Kingdom of God and to perform mighty acts of healing and exorcism.
In the forty days in the wilderness, Jesus found out who he was and came forth ready to behave in accord with his identity.
When Jesus knew who he was, the question of what he was to do was already answered.
To be the Christ, the Son of God, laid out for him a path to follow, a way of being in the world that led to certain things to do.
Preaching. Healing. Confronting Evil.
Throughout these forty days of Lent we are called to contemplate the life of Jesus, his path of service and obedience to God, his living out his identity as the Son of God.
As we do that, we must ask ourselves some identity questions, personally and congregationally.
Who am I? Who am I, really? And what is God calling me to do?
Who are we? Who are we, really? And what is God calling us to do?
Not too long ago I turned on the TV to watch a ballgame and caught the tail end of an old episode of LAW AND ORDER.
Two lawyers, one white, one black, were sitting in a book lined office, having a drink and discussing the just ended case.
The Black lawyer said, “I used to think I was a lawyer who happened to be Black. Now I feel more like a Black man who happens to be a lawyer.”
It is a question of identity that will shape his life and work.
Who am I? Am I a lawyer, or doctor, or policeman, or office manager, or teacher, or truck-driver or nurse, or retiree who happens to be a Christian?
Or am I a Christian; who happens to be a lawyer or doctor or policeman, etc.
It is an important question, and the answer will shape your life.
Likewise, as a congregation, as a community, we struggle with identity questions.
Who are we, really? Are we a gathering of like-minded people, a little ELCA Lutheran enclave in Prattville?
If so, then the things we do should be designed to take care of ourselves.
Or are we a people whom God has called together to be the Body of Christ, as Luther says in the Small Catechism: Called, gathered, empowered and sent?
Called to be a Christian, gathered around Word and Sacrament, Empowered by the Holy Spirit, Sent into the world to spread the Love of God.
If that is who we are (and I believe it is) then the things we do will be designed to care for others.
Jesus spent forty days in the Wilderness struggling with the question of identity, struggling to discover what it meant to be the Son of God.
Throughout the forty days of Lent, we are called to do the same.
We must ask ourselves,
If we are the beloved children of God, what is God calling us to do?
Christ Church, Prattville; just WHO do you think you are?
Amen and amen.
Monday, February 15, 2010
To my readers
The title "To My Readers," seems a bit pretentious to me, especially since I am generally surprised to find out I have readers!
I preached Epiphany 4 and 5 at the Episcopal Church here in Hayesville and the second week someone asked why I had not posted the previous week's sermon.
So, tonight, I have caught up by posting Epiphany 4 and Transfiguaration and a little serio-comic piece I did on Shrove Tuesday and Mardi Gras.
Thing is, I'm not smart enough to do them in correct chronological order, but you all are smart enough to figure it out.
I really would like to know who's reading this and if it is something I should keep doing. So, please email me at delmer.chilton@gmail.com and let me know you're reading and whether you'd like me to continue writing.
thanks,
delmer
I preached Epiphany 4 and 5 at the Episcopal Church here in Hayesville and the second week someone asked why I had not posted the previous week's sermon.
So, tonight, I have caught up by posting Epiphany 4 and Transfiguaration and a little serio-comic piece I did on Shrove Tuesday and Mardi Gras.
Thing is, I'm not smart enough to do them in correct chronological order, but you all are smart enough to figure it out.
I really would like to know who's reading this and if it is something I should keep doing. So, please email me at delmer.chilton@gmail.com and let me know you're reading and whether you'd like me to continue writing.
thanks,
delmer
Epiphany Four
Epiphany Four, January 31, 2010
Luke 4:21-30
My friend Sam Dixon died in the Earthquake in Haiti. He was a UMC minister who was the Director of the UM Relief agency UMCOR.
At his Memorial Service in Raleigh last week, a Methodist lay preacher used an illustration that really struck me.
He said that he and the Rev. Dixon had attended a workshop on Church Growth and that the presenter had talked about the familiar paintings of Jesus Knocking at the Door
We've all seen them in homes and in churches; Jesus knocking at the door of a 18th century cottage.
Most of us, most of the time, have seen that painting as symbolic of Jesus knocking at the door of our hearts, seeking to come in.
At this workshop, the Presenter, Professor Ken Callahan from Candler School of Theology, had suggested that while that was true, there was also another way to think about that painting.
"Perhaps", he said, "Jesus is knocking at the door of our lives, inviting us to come out of our private concerns and to get ourselves involved in the world's needs and hurts and pains."
GOOD NEWS TO THE POOR
RELEASE TO THE CAPTIVES
RECOVERY OF SIGHT TO THE BLIND
THE OPPRESSED GO FREE
THE YEAR OF THE LORD'S FAVOR
As we heard in last week's Gospel lesson; that is Jesus' self-identified job description.
It is our job description too.
To understand what happened in today's Gospel Lesson, we have to go back to the middle of chapter three and recall what has been going on in Jesus' life.
Jesus had responded to the call of John by getting baptized,
the Holy Spirit came upon him,
he is declared the Beloved Son of God.
Then the Spirit leads him into the Wilderness,
where he resists the Devil’s temptations to fame and power,
then, still full of the Spirit,
he returns to Galilee and begins preaching and healing.
Then he comes to Nazareth, his hometown, and goes to the Synagogue and reads the text from Isaiah about being the Lord’s anointed, and then, our scripture begins.
Jesus says - Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.
Many commentators believe that this is not all that he said, but rather it is a synopsis of what he said; a summary of the short homily, or talk, or teaching Jesus gave in the synagogue that day.
At first people were pretty impressed. Verse 22 says, “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” They are simply impressed, and not a little surprised.
Like the old men in Mount Airy will tell you about going to school with Andy Griffith, “Shoot, I knew him when he was a snot-nosed kid. We went to school together over there on Rockford Street. He warn’t nothing special. A little prissy to tell you the truth, always singing and acting and playing that trombone and such.”
It is in verses 23-27 that he makes them mad. Again, this is a shortened version of the discussion. Apparently they were pleased with his preaching, but they had heard that he had done miracles and healings elsewhere and they wanted him to do some for them.
And Jesus refused, Why? Because all they wanted was a show, an exhibition.
They weren’t interested in people being healed, they wanted to be entertained,
Jesus was having none of it.
And so, we can read between the lines and hear them saying things like, Who do you think you are? What’s the matter, you too good for us now? You gone off to the city and now you’re too big to do miracles for us?
This is where a nasty line from Mark’s version of the story comes into play, instead of Son of Joseph, Mark has them call him “Mary’s boy.” That’s another way of saying, "We haven't forgotten about the questions about who your Daddy is." Small towns are all alike in some things.
Jesus responds with two Hebrew Bible stories of healing. Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath
and Elisha and Namaan. What’s important here is that both the widow of Zarephath and Namaan were gentiles, foreigners, aliens.
Jesus points out that there were many widows and lepers in Israel, but God chose to use Elijah and Elisha to heal the outsiders, and God has chosen Jesus to bring God’s love to everybody, not just the Children of Israel.
This made them really mad. So mad that they ran him out of town and tried to kill him, but he mysteriously got away
Now, here’s the question for us today.
Are we like the people of Nazareth, pleased with Jesus as long as what he says sounds good to us, but turning our backs on him when he says things we don’t like?
Now, most of us would never come right out and say we disagree with Jesus, so we basically use wiggle room to avoid it.
Whenever we hear something we don’t like coming out of Jesus’ mouth, we blame it on somebody other than Jesus: the professors, the liberals, the over-educated preachers, the bleeding hearts, the conservatives,the fundamentalists.
Anything but admitting that Jesus said it, and I’m supposed to deal with it. For example, I’ll admit it; I’m a little hard-hearted about poor people and homeless people. My heart sneers; get a job, go to work, get busy. If you’re poor, it’s your own fault.
Despite a UNC and Duke education and years of prayer and Bible study and living with a Social Worker for 35 years, somewhere in a place I don’t visit very often, deep in my soul,
I still feel that way.
And yet Jesus said The Holy Spirit had anointed him to preach Good News to the poor.
He told the rich young ruler to sell all he had and give it to the poor.
There is the great judgment parable in which Jesus said, “If you did unto one of the least of these, the cold, the hungry, the naked, the poor, you did it unto me.”
And many more things about the poor and my, our obligation to them.
We have to deal with that.
Do we sort of ignore it or do we get mad about it, and turn our backs on Jesus, like the people of Nazareth?
Or do we swallow our pride and obey our master?
Have we stopped listening to Jesus?
He says many things about loving the stranger and the foreigner, about turning the other cheek, about living a life of prayer, about selling what we have and giving it to the poor, about the Kingdom of God being inside us, etc. etc.
Here’s the question, do we take Jesus seriously?
Or are we giving him the yada, yada treatment, nodding and smiling, but not really listening, putting him off and putting him on?
I hope not. I really hope not. But listening to Jesus is hard. Many things he says challenge us; challenge our ideas and our prejudices and our actions.
But Jesus also invites us, invites us to think about things in a new way, to think about others in a new way, to act toward others in a new way.
Jesus invites us to join him in living in the world by the rules of the Kingdom of God, not the rules of earthly success and happiness.
Jesus invites us to join him in blessing the world with God’s grace and acts of healing and love.
Jesus invites us to join him in going out to all lands and all peoples with the great Good News that the Kingdom of God has come and we are all invited to be a part of it.
So, Jesus invites us to walk the way of the cross; are you coming?
Amen and amen.
Luke 4:21-30
My friend Sam Dixon died in the Earthquake in Haiti. He was a UMC minister who was the Director of the UM Relief agency UMCOR.
At his Memorial Service in Raleigh last week, a Methodist lay preacher used an illustration that really struck me.
He said that he and the Rev. Dixon had attended a workshop on Church Growth and that the presenter had talked about the familiar paintings of Jesus Knocking at the Door
We've all seen them in homes and in churches; Jesus knocking at the door of a 18th century cottage.
Most of us, most of the time, have seen that painting as symbolic of Jesus knocking at the door of our hearts, seeking to come in.
At this workshop, the Presenter, Professor Ken Callahan from Candler School of Theology, had suggested that while that was true, there was also another way to think about that painting.
"Perhaps", he said, "Jesus is knocking at the door of our lives, inviting us to come out of our private concerns and to get ourselves involved in the world's needs and hurts and pains."
GOOD NEWS TO THE POOR
RELEASE TO THE CAPTIVES
RECOVERY OF SIGHT TO THE BLIND
THE OPPRESSED GO FREE
THE YEAR OF THE LORD'S FAVOR
As we heard in last week's Gospel lesson; that is Jesus' self-identified job description.
It is our job description too.
To understand what happened in today's Gospel Lesson, we have to go back to the middle of chapter three and recall what has been going on in Jesus' life.
Jesus had responded to the call of John by getting baptized,
the Holy Spirit came upon him,
he is declared the Beloved Son of God.
Then the Spirit leads him into the Wilderness,
where he resists the Devil’s temptations to fame and power,
then, still full of the Spirit,
he returns to Galilee and begins preaching and healing.
Then he comes to Nazareth, his hometown, and goes to the Synagogue and reads the text from Isaiah about being the Lord’s anointed, and then, our scripture begins.
Jesus says - Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.
Many commentators believe that this is not all that he said, but rather it is a synopsis of what he said; a summary of the short homily, or talk, or teaching Jesus gave in the synagogue that day.
At first people were pretty impressed. Verse 22 says, “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” They are simply impressed, and not a little surprised.
Like the old men in Mount Airy will tell you about going to school with Andy Griffith, “Shoot, I knew him when he was a snot-nosed kid. We went to school together over there on Rockford Street. He warn’t nothing special. A little prissy to tell you the truth, always singing and acting and playing that trombone and such.”
It is in verses 23-27 that he makes them mad. Again, this is a shortened version of the discussion. Apparently they were pleased with his preaching, but they had heard that he had done miracles and healings elsewhere and they wanted him to do some for them.
And Jesus refused, Why? Because all they wanted was a show, an exhibition.
They weren’t interested in people being healed, they wanted to be entertained,
Jesus was having none of it.
And so, we can read between the lines and hear them saying things like, Who do you think you are? What’s the matter, you too good for us now? You gone off to the city and now you’re too big to do miracles for us?
This is where a nasty line from Mark’s version of the story comes into play, instead of Son of Joseph, Mark has them call him “Mary’s boy.” That’s another way of saying, "We haven't forgotten about the questions about who your Daddy is." Small towns are all alike in some things.
Jesus responds with two Hebrew Bible stories of healing. Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath
and Elisha and Namaan. What’s important here is that both the widow of Zarephath and Namaan were gentiles, foreigners, aliens.
Jesus points out that there were many widows and lepers in Israel, but God chose to use Elijah and Elisha to heal the outsiders, and God has chosen Jesus to bring God’s love to everybody, not just the Children of Israel.
This made them really mad. So mad that they ran him out of town and tried to kill him, but he mysteriously got away
Now, here’s the question for us today.
Are we like the people of Nazareth, pleased with Jesus as long as what he says sounds good to us, but turning our backs on him when he says things we don’t like?
Now, most of us would never come right out and say we disagree with Jesus, so we basically use wiggle room to avoid it.
Whenever we hear something we don’t like coming out of Jesus’ mouth, we blame it on somebody other than Jesus: the professors, the liberals, the over-educated preachers, the bleeding hearts, the conservatives,the fundamentalists.
Anything but admitting that Jesus said it, and I’m supposed to deal with it. For example, I’ll admit it; I’m a little hard-hearted about poor people and homeless people. My heart sneers; get a job, go to work, get busy. If you’re poor, it’s your own fault.
Despite a UNC and Duke education and years of prayer and Bible study and living with a Social Worker for 35 years, somewhere in a place I don’t visit very often, deep in my soul,
I still feel that way.
And yet Jesus said The Holy Spirit had anointed him to preach Good News to the poor.
He told the rich young ruler to sell all he had and give it to the poor.
There is the great judgment parable in which Jesus said, “If you did unto one of the least of these, the cold, the hungry, the naked, the poor, you did it unto me.”
And many more things about the poor and my, our obligation to them.
We have to deal with that.
Do we sort of ignore it or do we get mad about it, and turn our backs on Jesus, like the people of Nazareth?
Or do we swallow our pride and obey our master?
Have we stopped listening to Jesus?
He says many things about loving the stranger and the foreigner, about turning the other cheek, about living a life of prayer, about selling what we have and giving it to the poor, about the Kingdom of God being inside us, etc. etc.
Here’s the question, do we take Jesus seriously?
Or are we giving him the yada, yada treatment, nodding and smiling, but not really listening, putting him off and putting him on?
I hope not. I really hope not. But listening to Jesus is hard. Many things he says challenge us; challenge our ideas and our prejudices and our actions.
But Jesus also invites us, invites us to think about things in a new way, to think about others in a new way, to act toward others in a new way.
Jesus invites us to join him in living in the world by the rules of the Kingdom of God, not the rules of earthly success and happiness.
Jesus invites us to join him in blessing the world with God’s grace and acts of healing and love.
Jesus invites us to join him in going out to all lands and all peoples with the great Good News that the Kingdom of God has come and we are all invited to be a part of it.
So, Jesus invites us to walk the way of the cross; are you coming?
Amen and amen.
Transfiguration
TEXTS: Exodus 34:29-35,
II Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Luke 9:28-36
TITLE: The Hidden-ness of the Holy
Almost every Saturday afternoon, I listen to the opera on the Public Radio Station.
Don’t look so surprised. I like opera; not as much as I like Lynard Skynard or ZZ Topp, but I like opera.
Well, actually I don’t like opera, but I do like the idea of liking opera; deep down inside I fell like an educated person SHOULD like opera, and sooo;
On Saturday afternoon’s I listen to opera; kind of on the same theory as your mother had when she kept feeding you liver and asparagus,
hoping that one day you would come in and when she said, “What would you like for dinner?,” you would say, “How about some yummy liver and asparagus?”
Not gonna happen, but hope springs eternal in the human breast.
Anyway, I listen to opera in the vague hope that someday I’ll like it and can then count myself as a genuinely educated and cultured person.
Every once in a while, I find myself liking a piece, nodding along and getting into it and thinking, “Gee, I beginning to like this opera stuff.”
But then I realized that the opera pieces I liked were the ones they used as soundtracks for Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd cartoons, and I was back to square one;
I still didn’t like opera; I was just engaging in nostalgia about my childhood.
It seems to me that many people are seeking after Spiritual Enlightenment in much the same way that I have been seeking Musical Enlightenment; it’s something they’ve heard about, many of the better people have had these experiences, so they believe they ought to have them too.
So, they go seeking after the next new thing; the latest prayer techniques and the different churches and the praise bands and labyrinth walks and Alpha Bible Study and the Men’s drum-beating Sweat Lodge, and I don’t know what all.
Whatever they’re looking for, it isn’t where they are, it must be over the hill or around the next corner.
Some of this can be traced to biblical stories like today’s scripture lessons, which tell us about extra-ordinary spiritual events.
In our First Lesson, Moses goes up on the mountain and meets God in cloud and devouring fire.
In the Gospel lesson, Jesus goes up the mountain with Peter, James and John; and while there is TRANSFIGURED, whatever that means.
And in our Second Lesson, Paul refers to Moses and the veil.
Somehow, some people are always looking for something more, something electric and kinetic and spine tingling to happen to them religiously.
Which is okay, those things do happen, sometimes, to some people.
What is not okay is when one believes that such experiences are what religion in general and Christianity in particular are all about.
What is not okay is when people think that unless one has had such an experience, one has not really encountered the HOLY.
The truth of the matter is that religion is NOT about seeking after the extraordinary, not about the quest for the next new spiritual high, not about looking for an experiential fix of the Holy to carry one through another drab and ordinary week.
NO! Religion is about seeing, and feeling and hearing and respecting the Holy in, with and under the ordinary-ness of our daily lives.
To be religious is not a matter of being otherworldly;
to be religious is to be uniquely grounded in this world, seeing the very stuff of life as the very stuff of God.
Where are we to find the Holy?
On Mountaintops and in Sweat Lodges?
Where are we to look for God’s presence in our lives?
Well, you don’t have to go to the mountaintop; it’s all around you, all the time. We know this. It’s shown to us in our sacraments.
The water in the font, the water in which we baptize.
It’s ordinary water. It’s the same water that goes into the drinking fountain, the same water that flushes the toilet.
It’s just water.
What makes it holy? The use makes it holy. We use it to baptize a child, we speak the promise of Christ, and in with that water we bring a new child into Covenant with God and into Community with us.
Look at this wafer. It’s just a little whole-wheat flour and water. We buy them by the thousands. It’s not very good to eat; if you’re not careful, it will stick to the roof of your mouth.
And this, its just wine, grapes fermented and bottled and sold at the liquor store along with Budweiser Beer and Jack Daniel's Whiskey.
It’s good wine, good with dinner, but it’s nothing special or extraordinary, not until we make Eucharist out of it.
What makes it holy? What turns this ordinary stuff into the Body and Blood of Christ? Not me, not Pastors Scott and Mark.
I don’t have magical powers, and neither do they.
It’s us; us and God together; God promising and acting and our believing and celebrating which reveals the Holy within the ordinary.
That’s what happened to Jesus up on that mountain.
Jesus was a man, just like every other man; smarter, holier than most perhaps, but still very much a fully human person.
Even though the disciples called him Rabbi, Christ even, they still saw him as a man. And then this thing happened. And then they knew; Peter James and John knew; that here was the Divine, the Holy, in human form.
And we too are ordinary people, doing ordinary things. We too, as a church, as a community of faith, as the Body of Christ in the world, we too carry in, with and under our human-ness, the brightness of the Holy-ness of God.
We don’t have to go looking for it; we don’t have to struggle after extraordinary spiritual experiences. God is here with us in all that we do.
Our calling is to pay attention; to listen, look, feel and know that God is here, in this place, and in all our places:
at home, at work, at church, at school. God is present with us in the world, all we have to do is lift the veil and look for the Holy with the eyes of the heart.
AMEN AND AMEN.
II Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Luke 9:28-36
TITLE: The Hidden-ness of the Holy
Almost every Saturday afternoon, I listen to the opera on the Public Radio Station.
Don’t look so surprised. I like opera; not as much as I like Lynard Skynard or ZZ Topp, but I like opera.
Well, actually I don’t like opera, but I do like the idea of liking opera; deep down inside I fell like an educated person SHOULD like opera, and sooo;
On Saturday afternoon’s I listen to opera; kind of on the same theory as your mother had when she kept feeding you liver and asparagus,
hoping that one day you would come in and when she said, “What would you like for dinner?,” you would say, “How about some yummy liver and asparagus?”
Not gonna happen, but hope springs eternal in the human breast.
Anyway, I listen to opera in the vague hope that someday I’ll like it and can then count myself as a genuinely educated and cultured person.
Every once in a while, I find myself liking a piece, nodding along and getting into it and thinking, “Gee, I beginning to like this opera stuff.”
But then I realized that the opera pieces I liked were the ones they used as soundtracks for Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd cartoons, and I was back to square one;
I still didn’t like opera; I was just engaging in nostalgia about my childhood.
It seems to me that many people are seeking after Spiritual Enlightenment in much the same way that I have been seeking Musical Enlightenment; it’s something they’ve heard about, many of the better people have had these experiences, so they believe they ought to have them too.
So, they go seeking after the next new thing; the latest prayer techniques and the different churches and the praise bands and labyrinth walks and Alpha Bible Study and the Men’s drum-beating Sweat Lodge, and I don’t know what all.
Whatever they’re looking for, it isn’t where they are, it must be over the hill or around the next corner.
Some of this can be traced to biblical stories like today’s scripture lessons, which tell us about extra-ordinary spiritual events.
In our First Lesson, Moses goes up on the mountain and meets God in cloud and devouring fire.
In the Gospel lesson, Jesus goes up the mountain with Peter, James and John; and while there is TRANSFIGURED, whatever that means.
And in our Second Lesson, Paul refers to Moses and the veil.
Somehow, some people are always looking for something more, something electric and kinetic and spine tingling to happen to them religiously.
Which is okay, those things do happen, sometimes, to some people.
What is not okay is when one believes that such experiences are what religion in general and Christianity in particular are all about.
What is not okay is when people think that unless one has had such an experience, one has not really encountered the HOLY.
The truth of the matter is that religion is NOT about seeking after the extraordinary, not about the quest for the next new spiritual high, not about looking for an experiential fix of the Holy to carry one through another drab and ordinary week.
NO! Religion is about seeing, and feeling and hearing and respecting the Holy in, with and under the ordinary-ness of our daily lives.
To be religious is not a matter of being otherworldly;
to be religious is to be uniquely grounded in this world, seeing the very stuff of life as the very stuff of God.
Where are we to find the Holy?
On Mountaintops and in Sweat Lodges?
Where are we to look for God’s presence in our lives?
Well, you don’t have to go to the mountaintop; it’s all around you, all the time. We know this. It’s shown to us in our sacraments.
The water in the font, the water in which we baptize.
It’s ordinary water. It’s the same water that goes into the drinking fountain, the same water that flushes the toilet.
It’s just water.
What makes it holy? The use makes it holy. We use it to baptize a child, we speak the promise of Christ, and in with that water we bring a new child into Covenant with God and into Community with us.
Look at this wafer. It’s just a little whole-wheat flour and water. We buy them by the thousands. It’s not very good to eat; if you’re not careful, it will stick to the roof of your mouth.
And this, its just wine, grapes fermented and bottled and sold at the liquor store along with Budweiser Beer and Jack Daniel's Whiskey.
It’s good wine, good with dinner, but it’s nothing special or extraordinary, not until we make Eucharist out of it.
What makes it holy? What turns this ordinary stuff into the Body and Blood of Christ? Not me, not Pastors Scott and Mark.
I don’t have magical powers, and neither do they.
It’s us; us and God together; God promising and acting and our believing and celebrating which reveals the Holy within the ordinary.
That’s what happened to Jesus up on that mountain.
Jesus was a man, just like every other man; smarter, holier than most perhaps, but still very much a fully human person.
Even though the disciples called him Rabbi, Christ even, they still saw him as a man. And then this thing happened. And then they knew; Peter James and John knew; that here was the Divine, the Holy, in human form.
And we too are ordinary people, doing ordinary things. We too, as a church, as a community of faith, as the Body of Christ in the world, we too carry in, with and under our human-ness, the brightness of the Holy-ness of God.
We don’t have to go looking for it; we don’t have to struggle after extraordinary spiritual experiences. God is here with us in all that we do.
Our calling is to pay attention; to listen, look, feel and know that God is here, in this place, and in all our places:
at home, at work, at church, at school. God is present with us in the world, all we have to do is lift the veil and look for the Holy with the eyes of the heart.
AMEN AND AMEN.
Shrove Tuesday/Mardi Gras
Shrove Tuesday/Mardi Gras Meditation
Text: Romans 7: 14-25
Title: Shriven or Fat?
OPENING:
When I was a kid growing up in Mount Airy, NC; I had absolutely no knowledge or experience of the church year. We had a Christmas play on the Sunday night before Christmas and Easter just kind of showed up one Sunday with no preliminaries and had more to do with Sunrise Service at the Moravian Cemetery and the Easter Egg Hunt during Sunday School and my sisters and mother having new dresses than anything else. We were not a liturgical people.
My favorite place to shop when I was a kid was the Robby's Army/Navy Surplus store on Main Street. Most Fridays I went to town with Mama when she went to "get her hair fixed," and went to Robby's to look at manly men stuff and to occasionally buy a knife or a shirt or something.
Across the street from Robby's was Trinity Episcopal Church; a tiny stone building that seated maybe 50 people and had a Fellowship Hall downstairs. Every year I was fascinated to see the sign go up in their yard advertising "Shrove Tuesday Pancake Dinner and Ash Wednesday Service" Two different days; one sign.
Nobody I knew could tell me what that was all about; not parents or teachers or even my preacher. The best anyone could do was my Baptist Deacon Grandaddy who said, "I reckon it's the way them 'Piskipalians has a revival and a fellowship dinner." Close enough, I'd say, for an opinion formed out of almost complete ignorance of the subject; a technique I have inherited and exploited with children over the years.
At about the same time, I became acquainted with the New Orleans tradition of Mardi Gras, mostly through my devout Aunt Ethel; who gave me Evangelical Tracts and Paperback books for Birthday and Christmas presents until she died when I was forty. (She was still hoping I would turn my back on my obvious crypto-Catholicism and accept Jesus.)
It was in a somewhat lurid paperback description of the soul-saving work of the Rev. Bob Harrington, known to his admirers as the "Chaplain of Bourbon Street." The only religious effect it had on me was making me consider going into the Baptist Ministry just so I could attend New Orleans Baptist Seminary.
It was only in Seminary that I began to connect the dots between Shrove Tuesday and Mardi Gras. Here's this from The Oxford Encyclopedia of Christianity.
On the eve of Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, the season of fasting, people first went to confession, to be "shriven," hence Shrove Tuesday, and then ate pancakes, to use up the ingredients forbidden during Lent. This turned into a longer period of pre-Lent celebration, known as Carnival or Mardi Gras. P. 468
Although I admit to having a little fun with this, I don't think it far-fetched of me to see the two different ways of observing this day as being more than a cultural difference between the repressed and dour English and Northern Europeans on the one hand and the more "party-hearty" attitude of the French and the other Mediterranean peoples on the other.
We all find it difficult to figure out how seriously to take sin; our own and that of others. We know we're not as good as we could be; or maybe should be.
But also, most of us are unwilling to admit being as bad as some other people think we are; or conversely, as bad as we think some other people are.
No matter how we have failed our own ethical and moral standards, we are all of us more than willing to look around and say, "Well, Lord, at least I'm not as bad as that person. At least I didn't do THAT!"
And so, we come up to Lent with two attitudes:
One is represented by being Shriven. We look at Lent as a time to grow spiritually, to pray, and read and draw closer to God. We see this time before Lent as a time of solemn contemplation and sober reflection; well represented by eating damp and tepid pancakes and half-cooked sausage on a paper plate that folds up and spills syrup on the Fellowship Hall table as you sit uncomfortably in your folding chair and sip bad coffee from a Styrofoam Cup.
The other is represented by getting FAT. By the wonderful phrase "Let the good times Roll!"
We have to go through this Lenten time of restriction and restraint, so we'd best get the partying out of our system before it starts.
To tell you the truth, I'm not exactly sure which of these represents Saint and which Sinner in Luther's famous simul Justus et Peccator; saint and sinner at the same time.
What I am really clear about is that each of us is just that; saint and sinner at the same time,
each of us struggles with it; each of us seeks the good, and all too often fails; fails to see it in others or to achieve it in ourselves.
And the gospel is; God loves us anyway, yes indeed, God loves us anyway;
Ye that do truly and earnestly repent of your sins, LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!
Amen and amen.
Text: Romans 7: 14-25
Title: Shriven or Fat?
OPENING:
When I was a kid growing up in Mount Airy, NC; I had absolutely no knowledge or experience of the church year. We had a Christmas play on the Sunday night before Christmas and Easter just kind of showed up one Sunday with no preliminaries and had more to do with Sunrise Service at the Moravian Cemetery and the Easter Egg Hunt during Sunday School and my sisters and mother having new dresses than anything else. We were not a liturgical people.
My favorite place to shop when I was a kid was the Robby's Army/Navy Surplus store on Main Street. Most Fridays I went to town with Mama when she went to "get her hair fixed," and went to Robby's to look at manly men stuff and to occasionally buy a knife or a shirt or something.
Across the street from Robby's was Trinity Episcopal Church; a tiny stone building that seated maybe 50 people and had a Fellowship Hall downstairs. Every year I was fascinated to see the sign go up in their yard advertising "Shrove Tuesday Pancake Dinner and Ash Wednesday Service" Two different days; one sign.
Nobody I knew could tell me what that was all about; not parents or teachers or even my preacher. The best anyone could do was my Baptist Deacon Grandaddy who said, "I reckon it's the way them 'Piskipalians has a revival and a fellowship dinner." Close enough, I'd say, for an opinion formed out of almost complete ignorance of the subject; a technique I have inherited and exploited with children over the years.
At about the same time, I became acquainted with the New Orleans tradition of Mardi Gras, mostly through my devout Aunt Ethel; who gave me Evangelical Tracts and Paperback books for Birthday and Christmas presents until she died when I was forty. (She was still hoping I would turn my back on my obvious crypto-Catholicism and accept Jesus.)
It was in a somewhat lurid paperback description of the soul-saving work of the Rev. Bob Harrington, known to his admirers as the "Chaplain of Bourbon Street." The only religious effect it had on me was making me consider going into the Baptist Ministry just so I could attend New Orleans Baptist Seminary.
It was only in Seminary that I began to connect the dots between Shrove Tuesday and Mardi Gras. Here's this from The Oxford Encyclopedia of Christianity.
On the eve of Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, the season of fasting, people first went to confession, to be "shriven," hence Shrove Tuesday, and then ate pancakes, to use up the ingredients forbidden during Lent. This turned into a longer period of pre-Lent celebration, known as Carnival or Mardi Gras. P. 468
Although I admit to having a little fun with this, I don't think it far-fetched of me to see the two different ways of observing this day as being more than a cultural difference between the repressed and dour English and Northern Europeans on the one hand and the more "party-hearty" attitude of the French and the other Mediterranean peoples on the other.
We all find it difficult to figure out how seriously to take sin; our own and that of others. We know we're not as good as we could be; or maybe should be.
But also, most of us are unwilling to admit being as bad as some other people think we are; or conversely, as bad as we think some other people are.
No matter how we have failed our own ethical and moral standards, we are all of us more than willing to look around and say, "Well, Lord, at least I'm not as bad as that person. At least I didn't do THAT!"
And so, we come up to Lent with two attitudes:
One is represented by being Shriven. We look at Lent as a time to grow spiritually, to pray, and read and draw closer to God. We see this time before Lent as a time of solemn contemplation and sober reflection; well represented by eating damp and tepid pancakes and half-cooked sausage on a paper plate that folds up and spills syrup on the Fellowship Hall table as you sit uncomfortably in your folding chair and sip bad coffee from a Styrofoam Cup.
The other is represented by getting FAT. By the wonderful phrase "Let the good times Roll!"
We have to go through this Lenten time of restriction and restraint, so we'd best get the partying out of our system before it starts.
To tell you the truth, I'm not exactly sure which of these represents Saint and which Sinner in Luther's famous simul Justus et Peccator; saint and sinner at the same time.
What I am really clear about is that each of us is just that; saint and sinner at the same time,
each of us struggles with it; each of us seeks the good, and all too often fails; fails to see it in others or to achieve it in ourselves.
And the gospel is; God loves us anyway, yes indeed, God loves us anyway;
Ye that do truly and earnestly repent of your sins, LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!
Amen and amen.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Epiphany 5 - Feb. 7, 2010
The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
February 7, 2010
A Sermon Preached at the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd, Hayesville, NC
It was during Lent, 25 years ago. I was the pastor of a very old Lutheran church in north of Charlotte. North Carolina.
On the wall of the apse, above the altar, there was a stained glass window in the shape of a cross lit by light bulbs.
One Wednesday afternoon I was putzing around the altar getting things ready for mid-week service when I noticed that one of the bulbs had gone out.
I resolved to change it, but, as often happens with me, I got distracted and forgot about it until the middle of the pre-service Fellowship Meal.
I excused myself and went into the church and then upstairs and opened a little door in the hall like the door Alice went through in Wonderland, got down on my knees to change the bulb. This is when I saw Seth.
Seth wasn't a bad kid; he was just six, and mischievous, he got into things.
This night Seth had gone into the church alone and he was pulling the big, heavy pulpit chair over to the front of the altar.
The altar was set for Communion, in country Lutheran fashion; with a plate full of wafers, a stack of trays and a cup of wine already set out under a sheer, white veil.
In a moment I realized what Seth was doing; he wanted to get a look at that table, and I visualized him pulling everything down on his head and falling out of the chair, etc. etc.
So, without thinking I barked out; "Seth, get down from there, you're going to hurt yourself!"
I will never forget the look of sheer terror that washed over Seth's face as he jerked his head up and looked into the face of Jesus staring down at him from above the Altar.
He started crying and yelling "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" and ran out of the room.
I left what I was doing and followed Seth out of the Church, across the parking lot into the Fellowship Hall, where he was weeping into his grandmother's large and welcoming lap.
Grandma, Grandma, Grandma; Jesus yelled at me. I want to go home NOW!
Isaiah said, Woe is me!. . I am LOST, for I am a man of unclean lips! . . .
And Peter, falling at Jesus' knees, says, Go away from me LORD, for I am a sinful man.
IT IS A FEARFUL THING TO FALL INTO THE HANDS OF THE LIVING GOD.
So says the writer of the book of Hebrews. A fearful thing. Be careful.
Coming to church would be easy if we could think of it as the weekly meeting of the religiously inclined.
A musically augmented study group to examine the latest findings of the theologians and scholars of antiquity.
Or perhaps a ritual dinner to keep alive the memory of a departed and influential leader and hero.
BUT NO. That is not what we do here. To gather here is to take the risk of falling into the hands of the Living God.
Make no mistake about it; the love of the living God can blow your life to bits, can turn your world upside down, can turn you inside out; can send you screaming into the arms of your Grandma, GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!
This may be why we often tiptoe around in God's presence, why we turn our churches into carpeted living rooms, our pews into padded sofas.
We are fearful that if we talk too loudly we might wake up this Living God, so we form our worship into a comfortable thing, a friendly thing, a reassuring thing.
It's only church, it's only Sunday, it's only Jesus, meek and mild; nothing to worry about.
Isaiah knew better, and in our better moments, so do we. We know that to really stand in the presence of the Living God is to be brought to your knees.
Woe is me, I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips . . .
Here in this room, facing this Altar, and this Cross, singing a hymn, praying the liturgy; our defenses begin to crumble.
Our pretensions melt away and we realize that we ARE, right now and right here; in the presence of the Living God,
And that it is both a wonderful and a fearful thing.
Standing here, face to face with God, with one who is so good, so just, so holy, we like Peter fall to our knees and cry out:
Go away from me, LORD, for I am sinful. .
It is not any particular sin that brings us to our knees, no long forgotten indiscretion or well hidden peccadillo. It is not our sins and faults and failures that slay us.
It is rather the sudden awareness of the great and unbridgeable distance between who we are and who God is.
UMC bishop Will Willimon says that there are two ways to be terrified of God.
1 - You can be afraid of God because you believe God is cruel and harsh and you must not slip up for fear of punishment; or 2 - God is so wonderfully loving that you deeply regret all the ways you have betrayed that love.
As we gaze into the face of God, we see our reflection in God's eyes. We see every moment of our lives, every secret thought, all the good little things we have done for bad little reasons, all the pain and hurt and sorrow we have endured in ourselves and produced in others. Face to face with God, we see every second of our lives tick, tick, tick away.
And in that moment, we cannot stand to stand there in front of God. It is too much; it is too brutally honest and holy. We seek to flee back into the comfortable façade of normality. We cry out to God;
Depart from me, leave me; Grandma, I want to go home, NOW!
But God refuses to leave us or let us go. God looks at us with tender eyes; god examines us with what the writer of Ephesians calls "the eyes of the heart,"
God casts upon us a look of mercy and release.
The Living God is no cold mirror of judgment. NO, the Living God is the Lord of love. God touched the unclean lips of Isaiah and turned him into a great prophet.
Isaiah was wrong, he was not lost; when he met God in the temple, he had just that moment been found.
Jesus called Peter to be a disciple, to be a catcher of people. Jesus refuses to leave this self-proclaimed sinful man.
Jesus forgives this sinful man.
Jesus even forgives this sinful man when he denies Jesus three times.
Why? Because when the Living God gets hold of you, you are not going to get loose.
We are called today into the presence of the living God. It is truly a fearful thing to be called into that presence; to be summoned into a meeting with your Creator.
It is a fearful thing; but it is not a bad thing. Indeed it may be the best thing that ever happens to any of us.
Standing there, face to face with Good, we will discover how very much we are loved, how very precious we are to God, and what a very important job God has for us to do.
For we, like Isaiah, are called to go into the world bearing in our lives and on our lips the message of the Living God's unending love.
And we, like Peter, are called upon to become catchers of people, snaring them from the depths of despair and bringing them into God's fearful, yet wonderful, presence.
And the only question is, will we, like Isaiah, say,
Here I am Lord, SEND ME!
Amen and amen.
February 7, 2010
A Sermon Preached at the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd, Hayesville, NC
It was during Lent, 25 years ago. I was the pastor of a very old Lutheran church in north of Charlotte. North Carolina.
On the wall of the apse, above the altar, there was a stained glass window in the shape of a cross lit by light bulbs.
One Wednesday afternoon I was putzing around the altar getting things ready for mid-week service when I noticed that one of the bulbs had gone out.
I resolved to change it, but, as often happens with me, I got distracted and forgot about it until the middle of the pre-service Fellowship Meal.
I excused myself and went into the church and then upstairs and opened a little door in the hall like the door Alice went through in Wonderland, got down on my knees to change the bulb. This is when I saw Seth.
Seth wasn't a bad kid; he was just six, and mischievous, he got into things.
This night Seth had gone into the church alone and he was pulling the big, heavy pulpit chair over to the front of the altar.
The altar was set for Communion, in country Lutheran fashion; with a plate full of wafers, a stack of trays and a cup of wine already set out under a sheer, white veil.
In a moment I realized what Seth was doing; he wanted to get a look at that table, and I visualized him pulling everything down on his head and falling out of the chair, etc. etc.
So, without thinking I barked out; "Seth, get down from there, you're going to hurt yourself!"
I will never forget the look of sheer terror that washed over Seth's face as he jerked his head up and looked into the face of Jesus staring down at him from above the Altar.
He started crying and yelling "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" and ran out of the room.
I left what I was doing and followed Seth out of the Church, across the parking lot into the Fellowship Hall, where he was weeping into his grandmother's large and welcoming lap.
Grandma, Grandma, Grandma; Jesus yelled at me. I want to go home NOW!
Isaiah said, Woe is me!. . I am LOST, for I am a man of unclean lips! . . .
And Peter, falling at Jesus' knees, says, Go away from me LORD, for I am a sinful man.
IT IS A FEARFUL THING TO FALL INTO THE HANDS OF THE LIVING GOD.
So says the writer of the book of Hebrews. A fearful thing. Be careful.
Coming to church would be easy if we could think of it as the weekly meeting of the religiously inclined.
A musically augmented study group to examine the latest findings of the theologians and scholars of antiquity.
Or perhaps a ritual dinner to keep alive the memory of a departed and influential leader and hero.
BUT NO. That is not what we do here. To gather here is to take the risk of falling into the hands of the Living God.
Make no mistake about it; the love of the living God can blow your life to bits, can turn your world upside down, can turn you inside out; can send you screaming into the arms of your Grandma, GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!
This may be why we often tiptoe around in God's presence, why we turn our churches into carpeted living rooms, our pews into padded sofas.
We are fearful that if we talk too loudly we might wake up this Living God, so we form our worship into a comfortable thing, a friendly thing, a reassuring thing.
It's only church, it's only Sunday, it's only Jesus, meek and mild; nothing to worry about.
Isaiah knew better, and in our better moments, so do we. We know that to really stand in the presence of the Living God is to be brought to your knees.
Woe is me, I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips . . .
Here in this room, facing this Altar, and this Cross, singing a hymn, praying the liturgy; our defenses begin to crumble.
Our pretensions melt away and we realize that we ARE, right now and right here; in the presence of the Living God,
And that it is both a wonderful and a fearful thing.
Standing here, face to face with God, with one who is so good, so just, so holy, we like Peter fall to our knees and cry out:
Go away from me, LORD, for I am sinful. .
It is not any particular sin that brings us to our knees, no long forgotten indiscretion or well hidden peccadillo. It is not our sins and faults and failures that slay us.
It is rather the sudden awareness of the great and unbridgeable distance between who we are and who God is.
UMC bishop Will Willimon says that there are two ways to be terrified of God.
1 - You can be afraid of God because you believe God is cruel and harsh and you must not slip up for fear of punishment; or 2 - God is so wonderfully loving that you deeply regret all the ways you have betrayed that love.
As we gaze into the face of God, we see our reflection in God's eyes. We see every moment of our lives, every secret thought, all the good little things we have done for bad little reasons, all the pain and hurt and sorrow we have endured in ourselves and produced in others. Face to face with God, we see every second of our lives tick, tick, tick away.
And in that moment, we cannot stand to stand there in front of God. It is too much; it is too brutally honest and holy. We seek to flee back into the comfortable façade of normality. We cry out to God;
Depart from me, leave me; Grandma, I want to go home, NOW!
But God refuses to leave us or let us go. God looks at us with tender eyes; god examines us with what the writer of Ephesians calls "the eyes of the heart,"
God casts upon us a look of mercy and release.
The Living God is no cold mirror of judgment. NO, the Living God is the Lord of love. God touched the unclean lips of Isaiah and turned him into a great prophet.
Isaiah was wrong, he was not lost; when he met God in the temple, he had just that moment been found.
Jesus called Peter to be a disciple, to be a catcher of people. Jesus refuses to leave this self-proclaimed sinful man.
Jesus forgives this sinful man.
Jesus even forgives this sinful man when he denies Jesus three times.
Why? Because when the Living God gets hold of you, you are not going to get loose.
We are called today into the presence of the living God. It is truly a fearful thing to be called into that presence; to be summoned into a meeting with your Creator.
It is a fearful thing; but it is not a bad thing. Indeed it may be the best thing that ever happens to any of us.
Standing there, face to face with Good, we will discover how very much we are loved, how very precious we are to God, and what a very important job God has for us to do.
For we, like Isaiah, are called to go into the world bearing in our lives and on our lips the message of the Living God's unending love.
And we, like Peter, are called upon to become catchers of people, snaring them from the depths of despair and bringing them into God's fearful, yet wonderful, presence.
And the only question is, will we, like Isaiah, say,
Here I am Lord, SEND ME!
Amen and amen.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Epiphany 3, January 24, 2010
EPIPHANY THREE
January 24, 2010
(A sermon preached at Christ Lutheran Church, Cullman, AL)
One thing that my home state of North Carolina and your state of Alabama have in common is colorful politicians and funny stories about them.
Thad Eure was secretary of State in NC for over 50 years. He called himself "the oldest rat in the democratic barn."
He used to tell a story about a man running for governor who was politicking and speechifying at a huge outdoor rally down east of Raleigh.
They were serving a big dinner of pork barbecue and fried chicken with all the necessary accoutrements.
As the candidate made his way through the serving line, he received on piece of chicken, a little bitty, scrawny, no-account piece; a wing or a back or something.
He smiled his politician's smile and asked the serving woman for another piece.
Without looking up she said, "One per person."
He smiled again and looked around to make sure everyone saw how nice he was being and said,
"Yes, but it's an awfully small piece and I'm a right big man. Could I please have another piece?"
Again she said, "One per person."
At this point the candidate got a little huffy and said,
"Hey, look. Do you know who I am?"
She said. "NO, but I know who I am. I'm the chicken lady, and I said one per person!"
Today's Gospel lesson is about knowing who you are.
More particularly, it's about Jesus knowing who he is and what he is called to do.
And it is also about our knowing who we are and what God has called us to do.
Our identity as a Christian people flows out of Jesus' identity as the Christ of God, and what we are called to do flows out of what Jesus was called to do.
As we look at this story, it is important to place it in its proper context.
The outline of the story in Luke goes like this:
John the Baptist is Preaching and Baptizing.
Lots of people are coming to get baptized
One of these people is Jesus.
After Jesus gets baptized:
- the Spirit descends on him like a dove
and he is declared to be:
THE BELOVED SON OF GOD.
- the Spirit leads him into the wilderness:
WHERE HE IS TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL.
- THEN our text begins -
"filled with the power of the Spirit:"
HE TEACHES AROUND GALILEE
- he goes to the synagogue (HIS HABIT)
and reads and preaches/teaches about
THE SPIRIT ANOINTING HIM FOR MINISTRY
Now, immediately after this, following the section we read, his friends and neighbors get very upset by his sermon and run him out of town; really, they meant of kill him, but he got away.
What are we to make of this strange story?
How can we begin to understand what this means for us here today.
There are two things I want to focus on here:
one is identity and the other is activity.
We'll take them in turn.
First: is the business of the Spirit and Identity.
As I retold the last half of chapter 3 and the beginning of chapter 4 in Luke, I purposely emphasized the role of the Holy Spirit.
What Jesus was about in life was rooted in the leading of the Spirit, the power of the Spirit and the comfort of the Spirit.
All too often we in church act as though what happens in the life of the church is up to us.
We take a bow in God's direction and say a prayer or two for guidance, but we go about the church's business relying on our own ideas and interests and abilities.
We forget that even Jesus was dependent upon the Spirit; who are we to think or act as though we can go it alone, get by without it?
In the Bible, FORTY is a number that symbolizes a long time, usually a long time of testing and waiting and getting clear spiritually.
Think about the children of Israel being in the wilderness for 40 years, the rain fell on Noah's ark for 40 days and nights, etc. etc.
When the bible says Jesus was in the wilderness 40 days, it means he spent a great deal of time in prayer and study and spiritual discipline, seeking to know exactly what it was that God was calling him to be and do.
Biblical Scholar and Anglican bishop Tom Wright points out that what we sometimes call an "inspired" performance (that is "full of the Spirit") is usually the result of long years of practice and preparation.
A great musician, a fine actor, a superb athlete; none of them appears on the world's stage without the blood, sweat and tears of long years of dedicated work to get ready.
Jesus had spent the time in prayer and study to be prepared the moment God called upon him to come forth as the Lord's anointed. When the Spirit came upon him, he was ready to receive it.
We are called to do no less. We are called to be prepared, to be ready, to be open to the Spirit.
And the only way to do that is to take seriously our call to study the Bible and to pray and to seek God's will in and with the community of the faithful.
It is not by accident that it was Jesus' habit and custom to go to the synagogue.
He didn't go there because they were "the friendliest church in town," (they most certainly were not.)
He didn't go there because his Mama and his brothers and sisters and his cousins were there (though they were.)
Jesus went there to pray, to hear God's word read and explained, to discuss God's word with others, and to prepare for those times when God called upon him to do something extraordinary.
And, when that moment came, Jesus was ready.
I said there were two things: The first has to do with preparing for and receiving the leading off the Spirit.
The second is to examine the nature of the task Jesus was called upon to perform.
A pastor friend of mine likes unusual church signs. He especially likes the ones that are unintentionally funny.
He called me up recently and told me he had seen a sign on a church that said in big letters GOD CARES FOR YOU.
Underneath in small letters, it said, Sundays, 10 AM Only.
My friend said, "Since God only cares for me at 10 AM on Sunday, will you care for me the rest of the time?"
The things that Jesus is called to say and do as the Lord's Anointed shout out to the world: GOD CARES FOR YOU!
Good News to the Poor, Release to the Captives, Recovery of sight to the Blind, Freedom for the Oppressed.
As the followers of the Christ, we too are called to care, not just on Sundays but all the time. We are called to find ways to love the world in the name of Christ.
We are called as individuals, as family members, as students and teachers, as butchers and bakers and candle-stick makers; and we are called as the church, as a community of faith.
We are called to find ways to do these very things Jesus talks about in the Bible. To do any less is to back away from our calling to take up the cross and follow Jesus.
When I was a kid, Yogi Berra of the Yankees was my favorite baseball player.
When I got older, I grew even fonder of him as I read in the sports pages some of what were called "Yogisms," things he said that did, and didn't, make sense.
That restaurant's so crowded nobody goes there anymore.
If you come to a fork in the road, take it.
Anybody who is popular is bound to be disliked.
This is my all time favorite:
If you don't know where you're going, you might end up someplace else.
It is very clear that Jesus knows who he is and where he is going.
He is the Lord's anointed called into the world to save the world.
The question today is: Do we know who we are and what we are called to do?
Amen.
January 24, 2010
(A sermon preached at Christ Lutheran Church, Cullman, AL)
One thing that my home state of North Carolina and your state of Alabama have in common is colorful politicians and funny stories about them.
Thad Eure was secretary of State in NC for over 50 years. He called himself "the oldest rat in the democratic barn."
He used to tell a story about a man running for governor who was politicking and speechifying at a huge outdoor rally down east of Raleigh.
They were serving a big dinner of pork barbecue and fried chicken with all the necessary accoutrements.
As the candidate made his way through the serving line, he received on piece of chicken, a little bitty, scrawny, no-account piece; a wing or a back or something.
He smiled his politician's smile and asked the serving woman for another piece.
Without looking up she said, "One per person."
He smiled again and looked around to make sure everyone saw how nice he was being and said,
"Yes, but it's an awfully small piece and I'm a right big man. Could I please have another piece?"
Again she said, "One per person."
At this point the candidate got a little huffy and said,
"Hey, look. Do you know who I am?"
She said. "NO, but I know who I am. I'm the chicken lady, and I said one per person!"
Today's Gospel lesson is about knowing who you are.
More particularly, it's about Jesus knowing who he is and what he is called to do.
And it is also about our knowing who we are and what God has called us to do.
Our identity as a Christian people flows out of Jesus' identity as the Christ of God, and what we are called to do flows out of what Jesus was called to do.
As we look at this story, it is important to place it in its proper context.
The outline of the story in Luke goes like this:
John the Baptist is Preaching and Baptizing.
Lots of people are coming to get baptized
One of these people is Jesus.
After Jesus gets baptized:
- the Spirit descends on him like a dove
and he is declared to be:
THE BELOVED SON OF GOD.
- the Spirit leads him into the wilderness:
WHERE HE IS TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL.
- THEN our text begins -
"filled with the power of the Spirit:"
HE TEACHES AROUND GALILEE
- he goes to the synagogue (HIS HABIT)
and reads and preaches/teaches about
THE SPIRIT ANOINTING HIM FOR MINISTRY
Now, immediately after this, following the section we read, his friends and neighbors get very upset by his sermon and run him out of town; really, they meant of kill him, but he got away.
What are we to make of this strange story?
How can we begin to understand what this means for us here today.
There are two things I want to focus on here:
one is identity and the other is activity.
We'll take them in turn.
First: is the business of the Spirit and Identity.
As I retold the last half of chapter 3 and the beginning of chapter 4 in Luke, I purposely emphasized the role of the Holy Spirit.
What Jesus was about in life was rooted in the leading of the Spirit, the power of the Spirit and the comfort of the Spirit.
All too often we in church act as though what happens in the life of the church is up to us.
We take a bow in God's direction and say a prayer or two for guidance, but we go about the church's business relying on our own ideas and interests and abilities.
We forget that even Jesus was dependent upon the Spirit; who are we to think or act as though we can go it alone, get by without it?
In the Bible, FORTY is a number that symbolizes a long time, usually a long time of testing and waiting and getting clear spiritually.
Think about the children of Israel being in the wilderness for 40 years, the rain fell on Noah's ark for 40 days and nights, etc. etc.
When the bible says Jesus was in the wilderness 40 days, it means he spent a great deal of time in prayer and study and spiritual discipline, seeking to know exactly what it was that God was calling him to be and do.
Biblical Scholar and Anglican bishop Tom Wright points out that what we sometimes call an "inspired" performance (that is "full of the Spirit") is usually the result of long years of practice and preparation.
A great musician, a fine actor, a superb athlete; none of them appears on the world's stage without the blood, sweat and tears of long years of dedicated work to get ready.
Jesus had spent the time in prayer and study to be prepared the moment God called upon him to come forth as the Lord's anointed. When the Spirit came upon him, he was ready to receive it.
We are called to do no less. We are called to be prepared, to be ready, to be open to the Spirit.
And the only way to do that is to take seriously our call to study the Bible and to pray and to seek God's will in and with the community of the faithful.
It is not by accident that it was Jesus' habit and custom to go to the synagogue.
He didn't go there because they were "the friendliest church in town," (they most certainly were not.)
He didn't go there because his Mama and his brothers and sisters and his cousins were there (though they were.)
Jesus went there to pray, to hear God's word read and explained, to discuss God's word with others, and to prepare for those times when God called upon him to do something extraordinary.
And, when that moment came, Jesus was ready.
I said there were two things: The first has to do with preparing for and receiving the leading off the Spirit.
The second is to examine the nature of the task Jesus was called upon to perform.
A pastor friend of mine likes unusual church signs. He especially likes the ones that are unintentionally funny.
He called me up recently and told me he had seen a sign on a church that said in big letters GOD CARES FOR YOU.
Underneath in small letters, it said, Sundays, 10 AM Only.
My friend said, "Since God only cares for me at 10 AM on Sunday, will you care for me the rest of the time?"
The things that Jesus is called to say and do as the Lord's Anointed shout out to the world: GOD CARES FOR YOU!
Good News to the Poor, Release to the Captives, Recovery of sight to the Blind, Freedom for the Oppressed.
As the followers of the Christ, we too are called to care, not just on Sundays but all the time. We are called to find ways to love the world in the name of Christ.
We are called as individuals, as family members, as students and teachers, as butchers and bakers and candle-stick makers; and we are called as the church, as a community of faith.
We are called to find ways to do these very things Jesus talks about in the Bible. To do any less is to back away from our calling to take up the cross and follow Jesus.
When I was a kid, Yogi Berra of the Yankees was my favorite baseball player.
When I got older, I grew even fonder of him as I read in the sports pages some of what were called "Yogisms," things he said that did, and didn't, make sense.
That restaurant's so crowded nobody goes there anymore.
If you come to a fork in the road, take it.
Anybody who is popular is bound to be disliked.
This is my all time favorite:
If you don't know where you're going, you might end up someplace else.
It is very clear that Jesus knows who he is and where he is going.
He is the Lord's anointed called into the world to save the world.
The question today is: Do we know who we are and what we are called to do?
Amen.
Friday, January 15, 2010
January 17, 2010 - Epiphany 2, Lectionary 2
The Second Sunday after the Epiphany
January 17, 2010
A sermon preached at Cross of Life Lutheran Church, Roswell, GA, the sunday before new pastor arrives.
Some years ago I heard a story about an Italian trying to start a vineyard up Northeast of here a ways, on the other side of Sewanee.
The County Commissioners were a bunch of good Southern Christians, and at that time that county was dry, like most of the rest of rural Georgia, and the Commissioners were none too keen on granting a permit for such a business.
The man from Italy was very confused by their attitude. Most of all, he could not understand how making wine could be considered un-Christian.
"After all," he said, "did not Our Lord turn water into wine at the wedding of Cana in Galilee?"
Wall, that remark sure got'em stirred up. Every good southern evangelical was very clear on the reality that though Jesus may have turned the water into what they CALLED wine, it was not wine as we know it; it was grape juice, unfermented,, non-alcoholic; the recipe for which was lost from Biblical times until the 1800's; when a dentist and Methodist communion steward named Welch rediscovered it.
(That's mostly true; Welch's grape juice was originally created as non-alcoholic communion wine. The whole jams and jellies thing came later.)
Anyway, the Italian Catholic vintner stood there in amazement as the folks argued among themselves until the chair used his gavel and called for order and said,
"Well, I have researched this thing and I have to say there was no such thing as unfermented grape juice in bible times. They didn't have the technology for it. Jesus really did turn the water into wine. . . .
And I've always been a little disappointed in our Lord for that!"
The story of turning water into wine at a wedding is very well known, and it has been used for a number of purposes.
It is cited in the Lutheran wedding service for example; as a way, I suppose, of saying that Jesus endorses marriage;
or perhaps that Jesus endorses drinking a bit and partying after a wedding.
Along those lines, I've heard it cited on both sides of the drink/don't drink argument.
See, it's not like a healing, or a Transfiguration, or a raising from the dead, or a feeding of the 5000, or even a stilling of the storm or a walking on the water.
It doesn't come with any easily discernible, easily preachable, easily applicable meaning.
It's just this extraordinary thing Jesus did.
It makes one feel more like saying, "Party on, Dude," than "Amen Brother!"
So, knowing that John included this story in his gospel for a reason, we must ask the question -
What are we expected to learn from this story?
If the fact that Jesus could turn water into wine is not the real point, then what is?
John is a writer whose work is full of symbolism.
Unlike the other Gospel writers; Matthew, Mark and Luke; he makes no pretence that his is a straight forward, historical narrative of the life and ministry of Jesus.
John's intent is to reveal to us SPIRITUAL TRUTH through the use of human stories.
Reading John is something like watching the TV show LOST.
Things are always different than they seem and this means it's generally a bit tricky to figure out what John is getting at.
A prevailing theme throughout John's Gospel is the dawning of a New AGE.
To John, the coming of Jesus as the Messiah has changed the world from what it used to be into something totally new and different.
This is why John prefers to use the word SIGNS instead of the word MIRACLES.
These things that Jesus did, like turning water into wine, were signs to the faithful that the new age of God's dealing with the world had come.
So - what Jesus did was not about an obedient son reluctantly doing what his mother asked;
nor was it about Jesus making sure the Host of the wedding was not embarrassed by the wine running out,
nor was it about making sure those attending the party were able to keep drinking.
What is really Significant in this story is that the water was special water.
It was water that had been set aside for the Jewish purification rites.
It was there for the people to wash up in.
This washing was not about being sanitary or comfortable.
This washing was a religious ceremony; it was a ritual cleansing in order to go before the LORD during the wedding feat.
IN this SIGN - Jesus takes the OLD - the ritual bath water;
and turns it into the NEW - fresh wine.
It is important to realize that Jesus DID NOT take the BAD and turn it into the GOOD!
He did not take the USELESS and turn it into the USEFUL.
He took good things from the past and transformed, changed them, into other good things for the future.
A good question for us today is "what does this text say to us?" today, in Roswell, GA, in the year 2010.
What is our water that Jesus has come to turn into wine?
You all are in the midst of an important transition, from one pastoral ministry to another.
As always in a time of transition; you have experienced a great deal of excitement, upheaval and yes, some anxiety and stress.
It is important for us in times of transition, upheaval and change to remember that God in Christ is actively involved in turning our old water into new wine.
The New Age brought by Jesus the Christ is an ongoing age of transformation and growth.
We are not the people we once were;
nor are we the people we will someday become.
We are in a state of fluidity; we are water being changed into wine.
Now, we have choices, as individuals and as a community of faith.
We can face the future's changes with fear and resistance;
or, we can embrace them with faith and excitement.
Either way, change is going to happen, the New Age is upon us, the water is beginning to change, and God is smack dab in the middle of it.
My late father-in-law was a story-telling Baptist deacon.
He used to tell the story of the old country preacher pulled over for dangerous and uncontrolled driving on a curvy mountain road.
Preacher - "Sorry Officer, I was a bit distracted. I was thinking about my sermon for the funeral I'm going to preach up in Blairsville this evening.
Officer - "Hmm, what's that bottle there on the seat?"
Preacher -"Uh, that's just some Holy Water I use for Blessings and Baptisms and Healings and such."
Officer - "HMM - let me see that."
He uncorks the lid and smells the "holy water."
Officer - "That's not water, Reverent. That's WINE!"
Preacher - "PRAISE THE LORD! He done done it agin!"
As you move forward into God's future for your church,
Let that be your cry of faith,
"GOD has done it again! And this time, God did it in us!
Amen and amen.
January 17, 2010
A sermon preached at Cross of Life Lutheran Church, Roswell, GA, the sunday before new pastor arrives.
Some years ago I heard a story about an Italian trying to start a vineyard up Northeast of here a ways, on the other side of Sewanee.
The County Commissioners were a bunch of good Southern Christians, and at that time that county was dry, like most of the rest of rural Georgia, and the Commissioners were none too keen on granting a permit for such a business.
The man from Italy was very confused by their attitude. Most of all, he could not understand how making wine could be considered un-Christian.
"After all," he said, "did not Our Lord turn water into wine at the wedding of Cana in Galilee?"
Wall, that remark sure got'em stirred up. Every good southern evangelical was very clear on the reality that though Jesus may have turned the water into what they CALLED wine, it was not wine as we know it; it was grape juice, unfermented,, non-alcoholic; the recipe for which was lost from Biblical times until the 1800's; when a dentist and Methodist communion steward named Welch rediscovered it.
(That's mostly true; Welch's grape juice was originally created as non-alcoholic communion wine. The whole jams and jellies thing came later.)
Anyway, the Italian Catholic vintner stood there in amazement as the folks argued among themselves until the chair used his gavel and called for order and said,
"Well, I have researched this thing and I have to say there was no such thing as unfermented grape juice in bible times. They didn't have the technology for it. Jesus really did turn the water into wine. . . .
And I've always been a little disappointed in our Lord for that!"
The story of turning water into wine at a wedding is very well known, and it has been used for a number of purposes.
It is cited in the Lutheran wedding service for example; as a way, I suppose, of saying that Jesus endorses marriage;
or perhaps that Jesus endorses drinking a bit and partying after a wedding.
Along those lines, I've heard it cited on both sides of the drink/don't drink argument.
See, it's not like a healing, or a Transfiguration, or a raising from the dead, or a feeding of the 5000, or even a stilling of the storm or a walking on the water.
It doesn't come with any easily discernible, easily preachable, easily applicable meaning.
It's just this extraordinary thing Jesus did.
It makes one feel more like saying, "Party on, Dude," than "Amen Brother!"
So, knowing that John included this story in his gospel for a reason, we must ask the question -
What are we expected to learn from this story?
If the fact that Jesus could turn water into wine is not the real point, then what is?
John is a writer whose work is full of symbolism.
Unlike the other Gospel writers; Matthew, Mark and Luke; he makes no pretence that his is a straight forward, historical narrative of the life and ministry of Jesus.
John's intent is to reveal to us SPIRITUAL TRUTH through the use of human stories.
Reading John is something like watching the TV show LOST.
Things are always different than they seem and this means it's generally a bit tricky to figure out what John is getting at.
A prevailing theme throughout John's Gospel is the dawning of a New AGE.
To John, the coming of Jesus as the Messiah has changed the world from what it used to be into something totally new and different.
This is why John prefers to use the word SIGNS instead of the word MIRACLES.
These things that Jesus did, like turning water into wine, were signs to the faithful that the new age of God's dealing with the world had come.
So - what Jesus did was not about an obedient son reluctantly doing what his mother asked;
nor was it about Jesus making sure the Host of the wedding was not embarrassed by the wine running out,
nor was it about making sure those attending the party were able to keep drinking.
What is really Significant in this story is that the water was special water.
It was water that had been set aside for the Jewish purification rites.
It was there for the people to wash up in.
This washing was not about being sanitary or comfortable.
This washing was a religious ceremony; it was a ritual cleansing in order to go before the LORD during the wedding feat.
IN this SIGN - Jesus takes the OLD - the ritual bath water;
and turns it into the NEW - fresh wine.
It is important to realize that Jesus DID NOT take the BAD and turn it into the GOOD!
He did not take the USELESS and turn it into the USEFUL.
He took good things from the past and transformed, changed them, into other good things for the future.
A good question for us today is "what does this text say to us?" today, in Roswell, GA, in the year 2010.
What is our water that Jesus has come to turn into wine?
You all are in the midst of an important transition, from one pastoral ministry to another.
As always in a time of transition; you have experienced a great deal of excitement, upheaval and yes, some anxiety and stress.
It is important for us in times of transition, upheaval and change to remember that God in Christ is actively involved in turning our old water into new wine.
The New Age brought by Jesus the Christ is an ongoing age of transformation and growth.
We are not the people we once were;
nor are we the people we will someday become.
We are in a state of fluidity; we are water being changed into wine.
Now, we have choices, as individuals and as a community of faith.
We can face the future's changes with fear and resistance;
or, we can embrace them with faith and excitement.
Either way, change is going to happen, the New Age is upon us, the water is beginning to change, and God is smack dab in the middle of it.
My late father-in-law was a story-telling Baptist deacon.
He used to tell the story of the old country preacher pulled over for dangerous and uncontrolled driving on a curvy mountain road.
Preacher - "Sorry Officer, I was a bit distracted. I was thinking about my sermon for the funeral I'm going to preach up in Blairsville this evening.
Officer - "Hmm, what's that bottle there on the seat?"
Preacher -"Uh, that's just some Holy Water I use for Blessings and Baptisms and Healings and such."
Officer - "HMM - let me see that."
He uncorks the lid and smells the "holy water."
Officer - "That's not water, Reverent. That's WINE!"
Preacher - "PRAISE THE LORD! He done done it agin!"
As you move forward into God's future for your church,
Let that be your cry of faith,
"GOD has done it again! And this time, God did it in us!
Amen and amen.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Dec. 13, 2009
(A sermon preached at the dedication of Hope Lutheran Church, Ellijay, GA
This sermon is NOT on the lectionary texts, but on the text the congregation chose for the dedication of their new building. I think the Advent connection is the notion that Godd is always doing a New Thing, building, commencing newness.)
Matthew 7: 24-29
Built on a Rock
In the mail a couple of weeks ago I got an invitation to Mid-year Commencement ceremonies at Mars Hill College in Asheville, NC.
My nephew's girlfriend will graduate there on Friday night.
Then she will marry my nephew on Saturday.
That's a whole lot of "commencing" for one weekend.
Commencement is, of course, a strange word for what feels to most people like an ending.
After all to “commence” is to start, to begin, to get going; not to finish.
So why is it that people “finish” college by “commencing?”
Could it be that to finish one thing is to begin another?
To finish one’s education is to begin one’s career.
To finish one’s courtship is to begin one’s marriage.
To finish a meal is to begin . . . the dishes.
(The trouble with preaching is that sometimes metaphors break down all over the place; but you get the idea.)
We have gathered here this afternoon to celebrate the finishing of one thing and the beginning of another.
You have finished the building. Let everyone say YAAA!
You don’t have to move AGAIN! Let everyone say WAHOO!
Yes you’ve finished the building and stopped moving around town, but are you through, finished, with building the church?
Have you completed construction, or has it just begun?
Is this church ready to sit back and relax and enjoy its retirement?
Or is it time to commence another kind of building?
The truth is; building the church is never ending work.
This is because the church is more organic and alive than it is static and still.
What do I mean by that?
Although the faith we proclaim,
the God we serve,
the Jesus we love; never changes;
the people who come in and out of this place
and who serve this place
and who will be served by this place do change.
The people personally change,
and the people who make up the church,
the demographic of the church changes,
people come, people go,
people move in and then sometimes move on.
The church is always in the process of re-inventing itself, of creating disciples out of people who have been attracted by the teachings of Jesus.
The Church is always in the process of developing new things, new ideas, new directions.
Now, sometimes these new things don't go over very well, do they?
Have you ever heard the jokes about how many Lutherans it takes to change a light bulb?
FIRST JOKE: How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb?
CHANGE! WHAT DO MEAN CHANGE?
SECOND JOKE: How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb? One hundred. One to change the bulb, Ninety-nine to talk about how good and faithful the old bulb was and how much they're going to miss it.
.
You get the idea. New is necessary; it's just not always real popular.
But doing something new is a part of what it means to build the church.
We have to continually be growing, changing, adapting in order to build the church.
We are never finished, we are always commencing.
Our Gospel lesson reminds us that just building anywhere will not do.
The church must be built on a solid rock, not on shifting sand.
Often times it seems to many of us that a lot of the changes the church has gone through have been built on the shifting sands of what is popular, or hip, or the latest new thing.
As Jesus points out, things built on such a volatile and unstable foundation will soon fall.
On the other hand, a church built on the solid rock of Christ and the Scriptures and two thousand years of Christian Tradition will stand and survive in the midst of the world's continually evolving tastes, whims and fanaticisms.
We have this day marked out and blessed those things that God has provided to assist us in building the church and keeping it true.
The Baptismal Font, where we are washed and cleansed and set on our feet and to which we return for forgiveness and renewal on a regular basis.
Martin Luther said that at times of distress and peril, of despair and disappointment,
of challenge and opportunity, we must pat ourselves on the forehead and remind ourselves that
"We have been baptized,"
that we have been forgiven, we have been filled with the Holy Spirit, we have been sent out into the world to share the love of God in Christ. Our Baptism is the cornerstone of our faith and our church
The Pulpit, where God’s word is read and proclaimed to us.
This is where Christ is made present in our hearing and in our hearts and lives, where the preacher is given both the freedom and the responsibility to Preach Christ and Him Crucified.
The pulpit also symbolizes for us our educational ministries, our Sunday School and catechism classes and our adult Bible studies.
It reminds us also of the Proclamation of the Word in song by congregation and choir, actions that build up our faith and build up our community.
The Altar, the Table, where Christ is made present in the Bread and the Wine, where his life is poured out for and into our lives, where we receive nourishment for the journey.
How can anyone stay away from this table if you know what is offered to you here?
Christ himself: God from God, light from light, true God from true God, broken and shed FOR YOU, freely given FOR YOU, here for the taking FOR YOU.
What we have done here today is set apart this place and these furnishings as tools of God, as Means of Grace, by which God will build his church on the Rock of faith in Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen and amen.
This sermon is NOT on the lectionary texts, but on the text the congregation chose for the dedication of their new building. I think the Advent connection is the notion that Godd is always doing a New Thing, building, commencing newness.)
Matthew 7: 24-29
Built on a Rock
In the mail a couple of weeks ago I got an invitation to Mid-year Commencement ceremonies at Mars Hill College in Asheville, NC.
My nephew's girlfriend will graduate there on Friday night.
Then she will marry my nephew on Saturday.
That's a whole lot of "commencing" for one weekend.
Commencement is, of course, a strange word for what feels to most people like an ending.
After all to “commence” is to start, to begin, to get going; not to finish.
So why is it that people “finish” college by “commencing?”
Could it be that to finish one thing is to begin another?
To finish one’s education is to begin one’s career.
To finish one’s courtship is to begin one’s marriage.
To finish a meal is to begin . . . the dishes.
(The trouble with preaching is that sometimes metaphors break down all over the place; but you get the idea.)
We have gathered here this afternoon to celebrate the finishing of one thing and the beginning of another.
You have finished the building. Let everyone say YAAA!
You don’t have to move AGAIN! Let everyone say WAHOO!
Yes you’ve finished the building and stopped moving around town, but are you through, finished, with building the church?
Have you completed construction, or has it just begun?
Is this church ready to sit back and relax and enjoy its retirement?
Or is it time to commence another kind of building?
The truth is; building the church is never ending work.
This is because the church is more organic and alive than it is static and still.
What do I mean by that?
Although the faith we proclaim,
the God we serve,
the Jesus we love; never changes;
the people who come in and out of this place
and who serve this place
and who will be served by this place do change.
The people personally change,
and the people who make up the church,
the demographic of the church changes,
people come, people go,
people move in and then sometimes move on.
The church is always in the process of re-inventing itself, of creating disciples out of people who have been attracted by the teachings of Jesus.
The Church is always in the process of developing new things, new ideas, new directions.
Now, sometimes these new things don't go over very well, do they?
Have you ever heard the jokes about how many Lutherans it takes to change a light bulb?
FIRST JOKE: How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb?
CHANGE! WHAT DO MEAN CHANGE?
SECOND JOKE: How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb? One hundred. One to change the bulb, Ninety-nine to talk about how good and faithful the old bulb was and how much they're going to miss it.
.
You get the idea. New is necessary; it's just not always real popular.
But doing something new is a part of what it means to build the church.
We have to continually be growing, changing, adapting in order to build the church.
We are never finished, we are always commencing.
Our Gospel lesson reminds us that just building anywhere will not do.
The church must be built on a solid rock, not on shifting sand.
Often times it seems to many of us that a lot of the changes the church has gone through have been built on the shifting sands of what is popular, or hip, or the latest new thing.
As Jesus points out, things built on such a volatile and unstable foundation will soon fall.
On the other hand, a church built on the solid rock of Christ and the Scriptures and two thousand years of Christian Tradition will stand and survive in the midst of the world's continually evolving tastes, whims and fanaticisms.
We have this day marked out and blessed those things that God has provided to assist us in building the church and keeping it true.
The Baptismal Font, where we are washed and cleansed and set on our feet and to which we return for forgiveness and renewal on a regular basis.
Martin Luther said that at times of distress and peril, of despair and disappointment,
of challenge and opportunity, we must pat ourselves on the forehead and remind ourselves that
"We have been baptized,"
that we have been forgiven, we have been filled with the Holy Spirit, we have been sent out into the world to share the love of God in Christ. Our Baptism is the cornerstone of our faith and our church
The Pulpit, where God’s word is read and proclaimed to us.
This is where Christ is made present in our hearing and in our hearts and lives, where the preacher is given both the freedom and the responsibility to Preach Christ and Him Crucified.
The pulpit also symbolizes for us our educational ministries, our Sunday School and catechism classes and our adult Bible studies.
It reminds us also of the Proclamation of the Word in song by congregation and choir, actions that build up our faith and build up our community.
The Altar, the Table, where Christ is made present in the Bread and the Wine, where his life is poured out for and into our lives, where we receive nourishment for the journey.
How can anyone stay away from this table if you know what is offered to you here?
Christ himself: God from God, light from light, true God from true God, broken and shed FOR YOU, freely given FOR YOU, here for the taking FOR YOU.
What we have done here today is set apart this place and these furnishings as tools of God, as Means of Grace, by which God will build his church on the Rock of faith in Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen and amen.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Advent II, Dec. 6
One of the interesting things about this job is that I preach in a different place almost every week. Some people in a similar posotion use "stock" sermons. I chose to write a new one every week, but I can't let a good story go too soon. Those of you who read here frequently will recognize the Morgan Wooten story from a couple of weeks ago. Part of the fun of writing sermons is finding ways to invite the congregation into the conversation with the text. I think this story has proven to be a good invite.
(A sermon preached at St. Stephen's Lutheran Church, Decatur, GA)
Text: Malachi 3: 1-4, Luke 3:1-6
Morgan Wooten was a basketball coach. He coached at DeMatha High School in the DC area. His teams won 1274 games while losing only 192 times. He was considered by everyone who knew him to be one of the great ones. Well, everyone except his grandson.
Wooten is one of only three High School coaches in the Basketball Hall of Fame.
At his induction, he told a story about his grandson's first day of school.
The teacher asked Nick: what's your favorite sport?
He replied: Baseball.
The teacher knew who Nick's grandfather was. She was surprised. She said: Not basketball?
Nick said: Nope. I don't know anybody who knows anything about basketball.
The teacher was even more surprised: but Nick, a lot of people think your Grandfather Wooten knows a lot about basketball.
Nick snorted and laughed; OH NO. HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BASKETBALL. I GO TO ALL HIS GAMES AND HE NEVER GETS TO PLAY.
it comes to seeing God's presence in the world, many of us are like Nick and his Grandfather Wooten.
Though we may still believe in God, we find it difficult to take God into consideration in our daily decision making.
We go along, bowing in the general direction of the altar, as it were; saying the right things with our lips, making the correct gestures at the appropriate times;
but all the while acting in our real lives as if God did not exist, living our lives no differently from our unbelieving neighbors.
Advent is a time to be reminded that God does exist,
that God is very much involved in the affairs of the world,
that God does care what we do and how we do it,
that God is coming to clean us up and put us back on the right track.
In our First Lesson, Malachi says;
Who can endure the day of his coming?
And who can stand when he appears?
For he is like a refiner's fire,
And like fuller's soap.
Well, I don't know much about refiner's fire, but I do know about a version of Fuller's soap. I grew up on a farm in NC, and we raised tobacco, and tobacco is indeed a very dirty crop.
When it is harvested green from the fields, your hands and clothes are covered with what we called "tobacco gum." It is sticky and black and resiny, like thick molasses or tar on your hands and clothes.
When we came to the house at the end of the day, we washed up at a table in the backyard, with pans full of hot soapy water and a bar of gritty, pungent soap.
Its name was LAVA. It felt like it had grains of sand it in as we scrubbed our hands and arms to remove the thick accumulation of filth we had acquired. It was like washing with liquid sandpaper.
As one commentator said of Fuller's soap, "It was known for its power, not its subtlety; it was not a gentle soap." (Stephen Break Reid p. 511, The Lectionary Commentary, Eerdman's, 2001)
The text from Malachi reminds us that we must get ourselves cleaned up and ready
for the Day of the Lord.
It is a reminder that while we are festive and happy that Christmas is coming, Christ came into the world for a serious reason and with a serious agenda.
The world was dirty and needed cleaning up.
People had sinned and needed forgiveness.
The world was broken and needed fixing.
What was true then is true now.
We are dirty and need cleaning,
we have sinned and need forgiveness,
we are broken and need fixing.
It is not an easy problem, and there is no easy button.
It is a hard and difficult problem which requires a hard and difficult solution.
Our Gospel lesson for today centers on John the Baptist’s call to repentance.
Repentance begins in the recognition of personal involvement in and responsibility for the Evil that surrounds us.
John’s call to repentance is a call for us to look at ourselves and to see in ourselves and our attitudes and our actions the things that lead to evil in the world.
John’s call to repentance is a call to look at our way of being in the world and in relationship to one another and to repent of those things which cause harm to ourselves and others.
John’s call is a call to confession and repentance.All too often, we make it as far as confession, and then stop.
Confession is the admission that there are indeed things we do in life that are wrong. We confess that, and go no further.
One day in Nashville I went to the YMCA to pick up my son.
As I approached the entrance, a very angry mother barged out the door
followed by a girl about 4 and a boy about 7.
The boy was saying, I told you I was sorry.
And the mother turned and said, hissing between her teeth,
Sorry doesn’t get it anymore.
I want you to stop doing it!
True repentance combines confession, I’m sorry, with what the old prayer books referred to as amendment of life.
The Greek word translated here repentance is not really a religious or theological word. It is metanoia, which is an ordinary, everyday word in Greek.
It simply means to turn around and go the other way;
to stop going one direction and to start going in the opposite direction.
This is more a matter of the mind and heart and will than it is of our outward actions. Metanoia refers to changing one's mind, which in turn changes one's actions.
Here's a simple example: suppose you went out the parking lot here onto Covington Highway. To go to Lithonia and Conyers and Covington, you would turn Left.
Now what if when you went out of the parking lot you turned Right and went toward Atlanta.
I'm guessing that about the time you cross I-285 you would recognize your mistake and realize you were going the wrong way.
Now wouldn't it be silly if you said. "Oh my, I'm going the wrong way. Covington is directly the other way. Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it, I'm only human, I'm so sorry I'm going the wrong way. "
It would be ridiculous for you to cry and weep and confess; while all the while still going the wrong way.
Metanoia; repentance is the two-part action of realizing you are going the wrong way, and acting to turn around and go the right way. In this case, turning the car around and going the other way, East toward Covington.
The Gospel, the Good News, is rooted in this simple act of repentance, because we can only stop going the wrong way if we have shown to us the right way.
The Gospel comes to turn us around,
to show us the way,
to warn us off the danger in the path we are taking,
and to provide for us a route to safety.
One of my very earliest memories is of a bright summer day on the farm.
I was playing in the backyard, under the apple trees.
My Daddy was mowing hay in a field next to the house.
Mama called to me from the back-porch.
She sent me into the field with a quart jar full of ice and water for Daddy.
As I started out across the field, Daddy stopped the tractor and got off and started yelling at me.
Delmer, Delmer. STOP! GO BACK, GO AROUND! STOP!
Now, even as a 4 year old, I knew that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, so Daddy’s instructions made no sense to me.
But I stopped and thought about it a minute. Though I could see no reason to stop and go back and go around, it was my Daddy telling me this, so I backed up and followed his instructions.
When I got to the tractor, I discovered that he had run over a Yellow Jacket’s nest in the ground and had stirred them up. The angry swarm lay directly in the path I was following.
So it is with us.
We may not be able to see the destruction that lies upon the path we have chosen,
but we have a loving God; a caring Savior; who is calling us to turn from the path of self-deception.
The Gospel is that Jesus came into the world to open for us the way to God;
to unblock the path and to call us to follow Jesus on the way.
For us to turn from the way we have been going, we have to see that we are being called to turn from danger to security, from evil to good, from wrong to right,
from our way to God’s way.
The way is being prepared, the opportunity is here. John’s call is ringing in our ears. REPENT, REPENT! Turn Back! Go the Other Way!
John’s call to REPENT is a call to look to our lives and change direction, so that when Christ comes in the flesh, we will be ready to receive our salvation.
Amen and Amen
(A sermon preached at St. Stephen's Lutheran Church, Decatur, GA)
Text: Malachi 3: 1-4, Luke 3:1-6
Morgan Wooten was a basketball coach. He coached at DeMatha High School in the DC area. His teams won 1274 games while losing only 192 times. He was considered by everyone who knew him to be one of the great ones. Well, everyone except his grandson.
Wooten is one of only three High School coaches in the Basketball Hall of Fame.
At his induction, he told a story about his grandson's first day of school.
The teacher asked Nick: what's your favorite sport?
He replied: Baseball.
The teacher knew who Nick's grandfather was. She was surprised. She said: Not basketball?
Nick said: Nope. I don't know anybody who knows anything about basketball.
The teacher was even more surprised: but Nick, a lot of people think your Grandfather Wooten knows a lot about basketball.
Nick snorted and laughed; OH NO. HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BASKETBALL. I GO TO ALL HIS GAMES AND HE NEVER GETS TO PLAY.
it comes to seeing God's presence in the world, many of us are like Nick and his Grandfather Wooten.
Though we may still believe in God, we find it difficult to take God into consideration in our daily decision making.
We go along, bowing in the general direction of the altar, as it were; saying the right things with our lips, making the correct gestures at the appropriate times;
but all the while acting in our real lives as if God did not exist, living our lives no differently from our unbelieving neighbors.
Advent is a time to be reminded that God does exist,
that God is very much involved in the affairs of the world,
that God does care what we do and how we do it,
that God is coming to clean us up and put us back on the right track.
In our First Lesson, Malachi says;
Who can endure the day of his coming?
And who can stand when he appears?
For he is like a refiner's fire,
And like fuller's soap.
Well, I don't know much about refiner's fire, but I do know about a version of Fuller's soap. I grew up on a farm in NC, and we raised tobacco, and tobacco is indeed a very dirty crop.
When it is harvested green from the fields, your hands and clothes are covered with what we called "tobacco gum." It is sticky and black and resiny, like thick molasses or tar on your hands and clothes.
When we came to the house at the end of the day, we washed up at a table in the backyard, with pans full of hot soapy water and a bar of gritty, pungent soap.
Its name was LAVA. It felt like it had grains of sand it in as we scrubbed our hands and arms to remove the thick accumulation of filth we had acquired. It was like washing with liquid sandpaper.
As one commentator said of Fuller's soap, "It was known for its power, not its subtlety; it was not a gentle soap." (Stephen Break Reid p. 511, The Lectionary Commentary, Eerdman's, 2001)
The text from Malachi reminds us that we must get ourselves cleaned up and ready
for the Day of the Lord.
It is a reminder that while we are festive and happy that Christmas is coming, Christ came into the world for a serious reason and with a serious agenda.
The world was dirty and needed cleaning up.
People had sinned and needed forgiveness.
The world was broken and needed fixing.
What was true then is true now.
We are dirty and need cleaning,
we have sinned and need forgiveness,
we are broken and need fixing.
It is not an easy problem, and there is no easy button.
It is a hard and difficult problem which requires a hard and difficult solution.
Our Gospel lesson for today centers on John the Baptist’s call to repentance.
Repentance begins in the recognition of personal involvement in and responsibility for the Evil that surrounds us.
John’s call to repentance is a call for us to look at ourselves and to see in ourselves and our attitudes and our actions the things that lead to evil in the world.
John’s call to repentance is a call to look at our way of being in the world and in relationship to one another and to repent of those things which cause harm to ourselves and others.
John’s call is a call to confession and repentance.All too often, we make it as far as confession, and then stop.
Confession is the admission that there are indeed things we do in life that are wrong. We confess that, and go no further.
One day in Nashville I went to the YMCA to pick up my son.
As I approached the entrance, a very angry mother barged out the door
followed by a girl about 4 and a boy about 7.
The boy was saying, I told you I was sorry.
And the mother turned and said, hissing between her teeth,
Sorry doesn’t get it anymore.
I want you to stop doing it!
True repentance combines confession, I’m sorry, with what the old prayer books referred to as amendment of life.
The Greek word translated here repentance is not really a religious or theological word. It is metanoia, which is an ordinary, everyday word in Greek.
It simply means to turn around and go the other way;
to stop going one direction and to start going in the opposite direction.
This is more a matter of the mind and heart and will than it is of our outward actions. Metanoia refers to changing one's mind, which in turn changes one's actions.
Here's a simple example: suppose you went out the parking lot here onto Covington Highway. To go to Lithonia and Conyers and Covington, you would turn Left.
Now what if when you went out of the parking lot you turned Right and went toward Atlanta.
I'm guessing that about the time you cross I-285 you would recognize your mistake and realize you were going the wrong way.
Now wouldn't it be silly if you said. "Oh my, I'm going the wrong way. Covington is directly the other way. Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it, I'm only human, I'm so sorry I'm going the wrong way. "
It would be ridiculous for you to cry and weep and confess; while all the while still going the wrong way.
Metanoia; repentance is the two-part action of realizing you are going the wrong way, and acting to turn around and go the right way. In this case, turning the car around and going the other way, East toward Covington.
The Gospel, the Good News, is rooted in this simple act of repentance, because we can only stop going the wrong way if we have shown to us the right way.
The Gospel comes to turn us around,
to show us the way,
to warn us off the danger in the path we are taking,
and to provide for us a route to safety.
One of my very earliest memories is of a bright summer day on the farm.
I was playing in the backyard, under the apple trees.
My Daddy was mowing hay in a field next to the house.
Mama called to me from the back-porch.
She sent me into the field with a quart jar full of ice and water for Daddy.
As I started out across the field, Daddy stopped the tractor and got off and started yelling at me.
Delmer, Delmer. STOP! GO BACK, GO AROUND! STOP!
Now, even as a 4 year old, I knew that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, so Daddy’s instructions made no sense to me.
But I stopped and thought about it a minute. Though I could see no reason to stop and go back and go around, it was my Daddy telling me this, so I backed up and followed his instructions.
When I got to the tractor, I discovered that he had run over a Yellow Jacket’s nest in the ground and had stirred them up. The angry swarm lay directly in the path I was following.
So it is with us.
We may not be able to see the destruction that lies upon the path we have chosen,
but we have a loving God; a caring Savior; who is calling us to turn from the path of self-deception.
The Gospel is that Jesus came into the world to open for us the way to God;
to unblock the path and to call us to follow Jesus on the way.
For us to turn from the way we have been going, we have to see that we are being called to turn from danger to security, from evil to good, from wrong to right,
from our way to God’s way.
The way is being prepared, the opportunity is here. John’s call is ringing in our ears. REPENT, REPENT! Turn Back! Go the Other Way!
John’s call to REPENT is a call to look to our lives and change direction, so that when Christ comes in the flesh, we will be ready to receive our salvation.
Amen and Amen
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Nov. 15, 2009; Pentecost 24, Lectionary 33
PENTECOST 24/LECTIONARY 33
November 15, 2009
A sermon preached at Gloria Dei Lutheran Church, Knoxville, TN
Texts: Daniel 12:1-3; Hebrews 10:11-14, 19-25; Psalm 16; Mark 13:1-8
Morgan Wooten was a basketball coach. He coached at DeMatha High School in the DC area. His teams won 1274 games while losing only 192 times. He was considered by everyone who knew him to be one of the great ones. Well, everyone except his grandson.
Wooten is one of only three High School coaches in the Basketball Hall of Fame. At his induction, he told a story about his grandson's first day of school.
The teacher asked Nick: what's your favorite sport?
He replied: Baseball.
The teacher knew who Nick's grandfather was. She was surprised. She said: Not basketball?
Nick said: Nope. I don't know anybody who knows anything about basketball.
The teacher was even more surprised: but Nick, a lot of people think your Grandfather Wooten knows a lot about basketball.
Nick snorted and laughed; OH NO. HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BASKETBALL. I GO TO ALL HIS GAMES AND HE NEVER GETS TO PLAY.
SOMETIMES WE ARE LIKE Nick. Because we see the game of life going on and have a hard time seeing the hand of God anywhere in it, we think:
God knows nothing about it,
or, God cares nothing about it,
or, God can't do anything about it, because, after all,
We never see God get in the game.
The Bible readings today talk about the art of having faith in a world gone mad,
of seeing God's hand in the wild whirlwind of life around us.
Each is an example of APOCALYPTIC LITERATURE. Though many use these types of writings to try to make predictions about the future and to frighten people in the present, that is not what these Bible readings are about.
They are intended to bring us reassurance of God's love when we go through hard times and God seems to be very far away.
Daniel was written at a time when the Hebrew people and the Jewish faith were in a tough spot.
They were in exile, they were oppressed, they were persecuted.
Daniel was written to give hope to a people who had lost all hope; to give faith to those who were losing touch with God.
Chapter 13 of Mark's Gospel was written about thirty years after the death of Jesus, to the early Christians, a community of faith that was also in a tough spot,
They were a people who were fearful and hesitant about the future. These words were written to give them hope and faith in the God of the future.
Hebrews was written to the Jewish Christian Community in Rome. They were struggling with the Romans on the one hand and their Jewish brothers and sisters on the other. They needed a word of hope in a time of distress.
Each of these communities was like Morgan Wooten's grandson. They saw the activity in front of them, but they couldn't see the hand of the one running the show; and so they were afraid, they were anxious, they were losing hope.
I love old 50s' television, and everyone once in a long while, on TVLand or something like that, you can get lucky and see an old skit with Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks.
It's called the 2000 year old man. Reiner plays a TV reporter and Brooks plays, well, a 2000 year old man.
Newsman: Well did you worship God in your village?
Old Man: No, at first we worshipped this guy in our village named Phil.
Newsman: You worshipped a guy named Phil? Why?
Old Man: well, he was bigger than us, and faster than us, and he was mean, and he could hurt you; break your arm or leg right in two; so we worshipped Phil.
Newsman: I see. Did you have any prayers in this religion?
Old Man: Yeah. Want to hear one? PLEASE PHIL NO! PLEASE PHIL NO!
Newsman: Okay. When did you stop worshipping Phil?
Old Man: Well One day we were having a religious festival.
Phil was chasing us and we were praying. (PLEASE PHIL NO! PLEASE PHIL NO!)
and suddenly a thunderstorm came up and a bolt of lightning struck and killed Phil.
We all gathered around and stared at Phil awhile and then we realized:
THERE'S SOMETHING BIGGER THAN PHIL.
That is the ultimate message of Apocalyptic literature; There's something bigger than Phil, there's something bigger than the bad stuff that happens in our lives.
And that something bigger is God.
That something bigger is Grace.
That something bigger is Love.
That something bigger is Faith in God's tomorrow overcoming our yesterdays and todays.
That something bigger is the faith that God is indeed very much in the game.
God is involved in all our pain and sorrow, our suffering and disappointment.
God is bigger, much bigger than all those things that frighten and haunt us.
Almost every church sings the Hymn Now Thank We All Our God around Thanksgiving. You know it, it goes like this:
Now thank we all our God, with hearts and souls and voices,
Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices.
Who, from our mothers' arms, has blest us on our way,
With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.
As you sing that this year, reflect upon this: Pastor Martin Rinkhart wrote that hymn in the early 1600's, in the midst of the Thirty Years War. 6000 - 8000 people in his village and territory died in an epidemic, including the other two clergymen, for weeks at a time he buried as many as fifty people a day, including his own wife and children.
Either Rinkhart was heartless and a bit crazy, or he was in touch with a deep, deep spiritual truth about a God whose promises are ever sure and whose love never fails.
If Rinkhardt was right, if our Bible readings are telling us the truth that in the midst of this world's trouble and sorrow, pain and disappointment; we can hold fast to the assurance of God's concern and involvement in our lives; what are we to do, how are we called to live our lives?
There's a fascinating line in our Hebrews lesson, verse 24: "And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds,"
Usually, I would say almost always, the word provoke is used in a negative sense; as in "Honest Officer, I didn't aim to hit him, but he, he PROVOKED me!" but here it is used positively, as encouragment, as stirring up, as prodding and pushing and being active in love.
We are called into a world full of scared, lonely, hurting people, and we are called to provoke one another into acts of love, into works of mercy, into commitments to compassion, into doing the right thing for all the right reasons.
Jesus showed us the way to live in the light. Jesus' entire life, death and resurrection were about a divine provocation to love.
The Cross is the place it all comes together.
There Christ suffered so that we might be healed,
There Christ wept, so that we might have joy in the morning,
There Christ was punished, so that we would be forgiven,
There Christ was lost and forsaken, so that we could be found by God,
There Christ died, that we might live.
And there we are called to go out; to go out into the world
with the message of God's love and hope.
Amen and amen.
November 15, 2009
A sermon preached at Gloria Dei Lutheran Church, Knoxville, TN
Texts: Daniel 12:1-3; Hebrews 10:11-14, 19-25; Psalm 16; Mark 13:1-8
Morgan Wooten was a basketball coach. He coached at DeMatha High School in the DC area. His teams won 1274 games while losing only 192 times. He was considered by everyone who knew him to be one of the great ones. Well, everyone except his grandson.
Wooten is one of only three High School coaches in the Basketball Hall of Fame. At his induction, he told a story about his grandson's first day of school.
The teacher asked Nick: what's your favorite sport?
He replied: Baseball.
The teacher knew who Nick's grandfather was. She was surprised. She said: Not basketball?
Nick said: Nope. I don't know anybody who knows anything about basketball.
The teacher was even more surprised: but Nick, a lot of people think your Grandfather Wooten knows a lot about basketball.
Nick snorted and laughed; OH NO. HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BASKETBALL. I GO TO ALL HIS GAMES AND HE NEVER GETS TO PLAY.
SOMETIMES WE ARE LIKE Nick. Because we see the game of life going on and have a hard time seeing the hand of God anywhere in it, we think:
God knows nothing about it,
or, God cares nothing about it,
or, God can't do anything about it, because, after all,
We never see God get in the game.
The Bible readings today talk about the art of having faith in a world gone mad,
of seeing God's hand in the wild whirlwind of life around us.
Each is an example of APOCALYPTIC LITERATURE. Though many use these types of writings to try to make predictions about the future and to frighten people in the present, that is not what these Bible readings are about.
They are intended to bring us reassurance of God's love when we go through hard times and God seems to be very far away.
Daniel was written at a time when the Hebrew people and the Jewish faith were in a tough spot.
They were in exile, they were oppressed, they were persecuted.
Daniel was written to give hope to a people who had lost all hope; to give faith to those who were losing touch with God.
Chapter 13 of Mark's Gospel was written about thirty years after the death of Jesus, to the early Christians, a community of faith that was also in a tough spot,
They were a people who were fearful and hesitant about the future. These words were written to give them hope and faith in the God of the future.
Hebrews was written to the Jewish Christian Community in Rome. They were struggling with the Romans on the one hand and their Jewish brothers and sisters on the other. They needed a word of hope in a time of distress.
Each of these communities was like Morgan Wooten's grandson. They saw the activity in front of them, but they couldn't see the hand of the one running the show; and so they were afraid, they were anxious, they were losing hope.
I love old 50s' television, and everyone once in a long while, on TVLand or something like that, you can get lucky and see an old skit with Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks.
It's called the 2000 year old man. Reiner plays a TV reporter and Brooks plays, well, a 2000 year old man.
Newsman: Well did you worship God in your village?
Old Man: No, at first we worshipped this guy in our village named Phil.
Newsman: You worshipped a guy named Phil? Why?
Old Man: well, he was bigger than us, and faster than us, and he was mean, and he could hurt you; break your arm or leg right in two; so we worshipped Phil.
Newsman: I see. Did you have any prayers in this religion?
Old Man: Yeah. Want to hear one? PLEASE PHIL NO! PLEASE PHIL NO!
Newsman: Okay. When did you stop worshipping Phil?
Old Man: Well One day we were having a religious festival.
Phil was chasing us and we were praying. (PLEASE PHIL NO! PLEASE PHIL NO!)
and suddenly a thunderstorm came up and a bolt of lightning struck and killed Phil.
We all gathered around and stared at Phil awhile and then we realized:
THERE'S SOMETHING BIGGER THAN PHIL.
That is the ultimate message of Apocalyptic literature; There's something bigger than Phil, there's something bigger than the bad stuff that happens in our lives.
And that something bigger is God.
That something bigger is Grace.
That something bigger is Love.
That something bigger is Faith in God's tomorrow overcoming our yesterdays and todays.
That something bigger is the faith that God is indeed very much in the game.
God is involved in all our pain and sorrow, our suffering and disappointment.
God is bigger, much bigger than all those things that frighten and haunt us.
Almost every church sings the Hymn Now Thank We All Our God around Thanksgiving. You know it, it goes like this:
Now thank we all our God, with hearts and souls and voices,
Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices.
Who, from our mothers' arms, has blest us on our way,
With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.
As you sing that this year, reflect upon this: Pastor Martin Rinkhart wrote that hymn in the early 1600's, in the midst of the Thirty Years War. 6000 - 8000 people in his village and territory died in an epidemic, including the other two clergymen, for weeks at a time he buried as many as fifty people a day, including his own wife and children.
Either Rinkhart was heartless and a bit crazy, or he was in touch with a deep, deep spiritual truth about a God whose promises are ever sure and whose love never fails.
If Rinkhardt was right, if our Bible readings are telling us the truth that in the midst of this world's trouble and sorrow, pain and disappointment; we can hold fast to the assurance of God's concern and involvement in our lives; what are we to do, how are we called to live our lives?
There's a fascinating line in our Hebrews lesson, verse 24: "And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds,"
Usually, I would say almost always, the word provoke is used in a negative sense; as in "Honest Officer, I didn't aim to hit him, but he, he PROVOKED me!" but here it is used positively, as encouragment, as stirring up, as prodding and pushing and being active in love.
We are called into a world full of scared, lonely, hurting people, and we are called to provoke one another into acts of love, into works of mercy, into commitments to compassion, into doing the right thing for all the right reasons.
Jesus showed us the way to live in the light. Jesus' entire life, death and resurrection were about a divine provocation to love.
The Cross is the place it all comes together.
There Christ suffered so that we might be healed,
There Christ wept, so that we might have joy in the morning,
There Christ was punished, so that we would be forgiven,
There Christ was lost and forsaken, so that we could be found by God,
There Christ died, that we might live.
And there we are called to go out; to go out into the world
with the message of God's love and hope.
Amen and amen.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Lectionary 32/ Pentecost 23
A sermon preached at Martin Luther Evangelical Lutheran church, Mobile alabama on the Occasion of their 87th Anniversary.
PENTECOST 23
November 8, 2009
Texts: I Kings 17:8-16, Mark 12:38-44
Today, we have read Bible lessons about two widows, both of whom were poor, and both of whom were generous with what they had.
The Gospel lesson, the story we know as the widow’s mite, was a little tough on Pastors and other official church folk.
-Beware of scribes, who like to walk around in long robes Well, I wear them during service, but I don’t walk around in them, much.
-and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, Okay, I do like it when people in grocery stores and restaurants call me Father or Reverend or Padre and treat me a little extra nice.
And to have the best seats in the synagogue - well, I don’t know if it’s the best, but it is bigger and it is different.
And places of honor at banquets - What can I say, I obviously like to eat!
They devour widow’s houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers, Okay, I’m clean on these two, I’ve never tricked a widow out of her house, and I’m famous for short prayers, not long ones, so perhaps I’ve escaped the “greater condemnation” by a narrow margin.
Whenever we hear a bible story, one of the most important things we can ask ourselves is, "With whom do I identify, who in this story feels like me?"
Of course, none of us would like to think we’re like the scribes, making a big, loud public display of our religion; in particular, none of us wants to look like a hypocrite.
And we all want to believe that we’re like the widow, doing all we can with what little we have.
Most of us, most of the time, hear the Widow’s Mite story and think it means something like this:
"See, it’s not HOW MUCH you give that matters, it’s the spirit with which you give that counts. A little bit is just as important as a lot."
That is true, as far as it goes.
But most of us miss an important point here, Jesus did not say that the widow gave all she could afford; Jesus said she gave all she had.
Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. Far all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.
Truth be told, most of us, myself included, most of the time, give out of our abundance.
We give what we think we can afford to give without seriously affecting our standard of living.
What Jesus points to in the widow is another thing entirely; her total commitment of everything she has, all her resources, “all she had to live on” to the Kingdom of God.
At root, this story is not so much about giving and generosity as it is about TRUST IN GOD.
That is why the Hebrew story of Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath is read with the story of the Widow’s Mite in the appointed readings for today.
These two stories are not only about widows, they are about putting your complete trust in God.
The Widow of Zarephath also gave all she had. She shared with the Prophet of the LORD the last of her food in a time of famine.
Yet, when she did, she discovered she had enough, enough at least to keep going, day by day; the jar of meal and the jug of oil having in them each day enough for that day’s needs.
This is the way God operates. This is the way God provides for God’s people.
Remember the manna from Heaven, the bread upon the ground provided to the Israelites
as they went from Egypt to the Promised Land?
If they took more than they needed for the day, the extra would rot before the next morning. It was a lesson in trusting God to provide each day’s needs.
What Jesus notices and comments upon with the Widow is not the size of her gift, but the fact that she gave her all, trusting that God would provide for the next day.
This is the Biblical Principle of God’s economy; this is the way God always works.
God’s promise is not: If you return to me a tithe, I will make you rich.
God’s promise is: If you commit to me your all, I will provide for your needs.
The history of Martin Luther Evangelical Lutheran Church teaches us that this is true.
When Mrs. Mayme Dixon and her aunt, Mrs. Theresa Pratt, began a Sunday School in the Laundry Workers Hall on Adam Street, teaching on Sunday afternoons in 1922, the odds were stacked against them.
They were women, they were black, they were Lutheran in the south. They had nothing going for them; except the fact that God had called them to the work and promised to provide for them as they pursued it.
Over the years, the Sunday School became a Church and a Church School and a ministry served by many pastors. We especially remember the long and fruitful ministries of Pastors Routte and Carstensen and Branch and Bradley-Love and all the faithful laypeople who served and worshipped and lead this church with them.
And at no time did this church have anything other than the call of God to serve and the promise of God to provide.
And the church has served and God has provided.
The Bible stories about the widow's and their generosity, our own remembrance of Martin Luther Church's history of giving while trusting God are not so much about finances as they are about the relationship of trust we are called upon to have with God.
And, we must admit, this is hard for us, we like to hedge our bets, hold a little something back, play it safe.
A couple of years ago, a college student went into a camera store to have a picture enlarged.
It was a framed 8x10 of the young man and his girlfriend. When the clerk took the picture out of the frame, he read the writing on the back:
My dearest Tommy, I love you with all my heart. I love you more and more each day. I will love you forever and ever. I am yours for all eternity. With all my love, Diane
PS - If we ever break up, I want this picture back!
Today God call us toward making a complete and total commitment of ourselves to Christ and the Kingdom of God.
We are called upon to make all that we are and all that we have available to the work of spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ into all the World.
And the Gospel, the Good News, for us today is that we can make that leap, that commitment, with full confidence in God’s promise to provide our every need, now and forever more.
Amen and amen
PENTECOST 23
November 8, 2009
Texts: I Kings 17:8-16, Mark 12:38-44
Today, we have read Bible lessons about two widows, both of whom were poor, and both of whom were generous with what they had.
The Gospel lesson, the story we know as the widow’s mite, was a little tough on Pastors and other official church folk.
-Beware of scribes, who like to walk around in long robes Well, I wear them during service, but I don’t walk around in them, much.
-and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, Okay, I do like it when people in grocery stores and restaurants call me Father or Reverend or Padre and treat me a little extra nice.
And to have the best seats in the synagogue - well, I don’t know if it’s the best, but it is bigger and it is different.
And places of honor at banquets - What can I say, I obviously like to eat!
They devour widow’s houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers, Okay, I’m clean on these two, I’ve never tricked a widow out of her house, and I’m famous for short prayers, not long ones, so perhaps I’ve escaped the “greater condemnation” by a narrow margin.
Whenever we hear a bible story, one of the most important things we can ask ourselves is, "With whom do I identify, who in this story feels like me?"
Of course, none of us would like to think we’re like the scribes, making a big, loud public display of our religion; in particular, none of us wants to look like a hypocrite.
And we all want to believe that we’re like the widow, doing all we can with what little we have.
Most of us, most of the time, hear the Widow’s Mite story and think it means something like this:
"See, it’s not HOW MUCH you give that matters, it’s the spirit with which you give that counts. A little bit is just as important as a lot."
That is true, as far as it goes.
But most of us miss an important point here, Jesus did not say that the widow gave all she could afford; Jesus said she gave all she had.
Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. Far all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.
Truth be told, most of us, myself included, most of the time, give out of our abundance.
We give what we think we can afford to give without seriously affecting our standard of living.
What Jesus points to in the widow is another thing entirely; her total commitment of everything she has, all her resources, “all she had to live on” to the Kingdom of God.
At root, this story is not so much about giving and generosity as it is about TRUST IN GOD.
That is why the Hebrew story of Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath is read with the story of the Widow’s Mite in the appointed readings for today.
These two stories are not only about widows, they are about putting your complete trust in God.
The Widow of Zarephath also gave all she had. She shared with the Prophet of the LORD the last of her food in a time of famine.
Yet, when she did, she discovered she had enough, enough at least to keep going, day by day; the jar of meal and the jug of oil having in them each day enough for that day’s needs.
This is the way God operates. This is the way God provides for God’s people.
Remember the manna from Heaven, the bread upon the ground provided to the Israelites
as they went from Egypt to the Promised Land?
If they took more than they needed for the day, the extra would rot before the next morning. It was a lesson in trusting God to provide each day’s needs.
What Jesus notices and comments upon with the Widow is not the size of her gift, but the fact that she gave her all, trusting that God would provide for the next day.
This is the Biblical Principle of God’s economy; this is the way God always works.
God’s promise is not: If you return to me a tithe, I will make you rich.
God’s promise is: If you commit to me your all, I will provide for your needs.
The history of Martin Luther Evangelical Lutheran Church teaches us that this is true.
When Mrs. Mayme Dixon and her aunt, Mrs. Theresa Pratt, began a Sunday School in the Laundry Workers Hall on Adam Street, teaching on Sunday afternoons in 1922, the odds were stacked against them.
They were women, they were black, they were Lutheran in the south. They had nothing going for them; except the fact that God had called them to the work and promised to provide for them as they pursued it.
Over the years, the Sunday School became a Church and a Church School and a ministry served by many pastors. We especially remember the long and fruitful ministries of Pastors Routte and Carstensen and Branch and Bradley-Love and all the faithful laypeople who served and worshipped and lead this church with them.
And at no time did this church have anything other than the call of God to serve and the promise of God to provide.
And the church has served and God has provided.
The Bible stories about the widow's and their generosity, our own remembrance of Martin Luther Church's history of giving while trusting God are not so much about finances as they are about the relationship of trust we are called upon to have with God.
And, we must admit, this is hard for us, we like to hedge our bets, hold a little something back, play it safe.
A couple of years ago, a college student went into a camera store to have a picture enlarged.
It was a framed 8x10 of the young man and his girlfriend. When the clerk took the picture out of the frame, he read the writing on the back:
My dearest Tommy, I love you with all my heart. I love you more and more each day. I will love you forever and ever. I am yours for all eternity. With all my love, Diane
PS - If we ever break up, I want this picture back!
Today God call us toward making a complete and total commitment of ourselves to Christ and the Kingdom of God.
We are called upon to make all that we are and all that we have available to the work of spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ into all the World.
And the Gospel, the Good News, for us today is that we can make that leap, that commitment, with full confidence in God’s promise to provide our every need, now and forever more.
Amen and amen
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Pentecost 19/ Lectionary 28
PENTECOST 19,
Oct. 11, 2009
Christ Lutheran Church, Fairfield Glade, TN.
Text: Mark 10: 17-31
When I was a graduate student at Duke University, I had the opportunity to be pastor of three little country Methodist churches.
It was a relatively easy gig. I lived in the parsonage and preached on Sundays and handled weddings and funerals and emergencies. I spent most of my time thirty-five miles away in the Duke Divinity School library.
There was one thing I sometimes had to do that I wasn't crazy about. All the Baptist churches in the county had fall and spring revival meetings.
To help work up a crowd they invited the choirs of the neighborhood to come one night and do the "special singing." When my choir went somewhere to sing I felt obliged to go along to lend them support.
One night I slipped into the back row of a small country church a few minutes late. After my choir had sung, I tried to catch up on my Church History assigned reading. I had the history textbook hidden in a big leather zip-up bible case and I hoped everyone would think I was deep into the Word.
The preacher was a traveling evangelist and he put on quite an exhibition; shouting and hollering and stomping his feet and breaking into song and denouncing sins, some of which I had never heard of.
After a while I gave up reading and watched the show; both his theatrics and the crowd's reactions. One little boy in particular caught my eye.
While his grandmother tried to pay attention,
he kicked the pew in front of him, he laid down,
he slid off the pew into the floor,
he drew in the back of the hymnal with that stubby little pencil you can usually find in a pew rack,
he loudly chewed gum and he sucked on a mint,
he played with Grandma's car-keys,
and he asked if it was time to go,
oh, about every two minutes.
Finally, as the Preacher launched into a fire-breathing altar call,
with the congregation standing, every head bowed, every eye closed,
I saw him stand on tip-toe and the pew and whisper loudly into Grandma's ear, ARE YOU SURE THIS IS THE ONLY WAY TO GEET TO HEAVEN?
This is the question that, in one way or another, all of us get around to asking eventually.
The man in our Gospel lesson asked, "What must I do to inherit Eternal Life?"
When Jesus tells the disciples that rich people are going to have a hard time getting in, they ask, "Well, who can be saved then?'
"What must I do to be saved?" says one.
"How can I get right with God?" says another.
There are secular, non-religious versions of the question: "What is the meaning of life?" "How can I be fulfilled?" "What does success look like for me?" to me, it's all a part of the same question.
In our Gospel lesson, a man came up and knelt in front of Jesus. We have traditionally referred to him as the "Rich Young Ruler." This is a composite name from three Gospel writers. Matthew calls him "young," Luke calls him a "ruler," and all three say he's "rich."
The man came asking a question to which he thought he already knew the answer. He's like the wicked witch in Snow White talking to the mirror. "Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all."
The rich Young ruler believes he is, and comes to Jesus for affirmation, not information.
He wants Jesus to give him a benediction, a good word. He wants the JESUS OF NAZERETH, PROPHET AND TEACHER, seal of approval on his life. And much to his surprise he doesn't get it; not in the way he had expected.
You see, he had rested his claim on the Kingdom of God on the Twin Pillars of righteousness and riches.
Obey the Ten Commandments and enjoy worldly success.
And worldly success is an outward and visible sign of God's inward and visible blessing.
So the young man believed. And honestly, so did everyone else in that time and place.
That very debate was part of what the book of Job was about.
Do we love God because we're blessed with material things; or are we blessed with material things because we love God?
If we're not blessed, does that mean we're bad?
And if we're clearly good, and we have nothing, does that mean God's not fair?
The people in Jesus' world, including his disciples, believed that morality and material blessing went hand in hand. If you were good, God would bless you with riches and comforts in this world.
So, when Jesus said to the young man, "You lack one thing, go and sell all and give it to the poor. . ."
it wasn't just the giving up of his money and stuff that bumfuzzled him; the rich young ruler's whole world view, his entire way of looking at how the world works, has been turned upside down and inside out.
Remember the little boy at the revival meeting.
After church I was standing in the parking lot talking to my choir members when she came marching him out the door; hat squarely on her head, suitcase-size pocketbook on her arm, holding him by the neck with one hand and swatting at this behind with the other.
He danced ahead of her with that pelvis-forward, swat-avoiding, Michael Jackson moon walk we've all seen. He yelled back at her, "What you hittin' me for? I ain't done nothing."
The rich young ruler hasn't done anything either, and that's just the point. Though he has lived a fastidiously moral life, ("All these I have kept from my youth"), he had never learned that there is more to the moral life, to life in the Kingdom of God, than being good and safe and not wrong.
He had never learned to go the extra mile, to take a risk, to boldly go where he has never gone before.
Jesus looked upon him with love and spoke to him out of that love when he said to him, "You lack one thing."
Because Jesus then tells him to get rid of his wealth and give it to the poor, we can become confused about what Jesus sees as missing in his life.
The man doesn't lack generosity,
he doesn't lack compassion for others,
he doesn't lack doesn't lack morality;
he doesn't lack an awareness of call of God on the Jews to hospitality to the stranger.
This man lacks faith.
He lacks a willingness to trust God both now and into the future.
He lacks a confident and joyous reliance upon the love and generosity of God.
He is relying upon his goodness and his goods to get him through this life and into the next, and Jesus says, "Friend, that's just not good enough."
Why is it hard for a rich person to get into heaven, harder than for a camel to get through the eye of a needle?
Because when you're rich, it's really hard to realize how much you need God and other people.
Being rich is not evil; it is just exceptionally dangerous to your spiritual health.
The question for us today is this: what are we depending on in our relationship with God?
Are we depending on our rightness, our ability to discern and know the right answer to spiritual and religious questions?
Are we depending on our righteousness, on our goodness, on our obedience to the
Ten Commandments?
What is it that keeps us trusting ourselves and not fully trusting God?
What is the one thing that we lack, the one thing that keeps us from totally and completely committing ourselves to God's will and God's way.
What keeps us from doing wild and wonderful right things in the name of the Living Christ?
The Good News is that Jesus has come to transform the impossible into the possible.
Jesus has come to release us from our bondage of serving our selves and our things.
Jesus has come to take us by the scruff of the neck and to drag us kicking and screaming through the eye of that needle, into the center of God's love.
Amen and amen.
Oct. 11, 2009
Christ Lutheran Church, Fairfield Glade, TN.
Text: Mark 10: 17-31
When I was a graduate student at Duke University, I had the opportunity to be pastor of three little country Methodist churches.
It was a relatively easy gig. I lived in the parsonage and preached on Sundays and handled weddings and funerals and emergencies. I spent most of my time thirty-five miles away in the Duke Divinity School library.
There was one thing I sometimes had to do that I wasn't crazy about. All the Baptist churches in the county had fall and spring revival meetings.
To help work up a crowd they invited the choirs of the neighborhood to come one night and do the "special singing." When my choir went somewhere to sing I felt obliged to go along to lend them support.
One night I slipped into the back row of a small country church a few minutes late. After my choir had sung, I tried to catch up on my Church History assigned reading. I had the history textbook hidden in a big leather zip-up bible case and I hoped everyone would think I was deep into the Word.
The preacher was a traveling evangelist and he put on quite an exhibition; shouting and hollering and stomping his feet and breaking into song and denouncing sins, some of which I had never heard of.
After a while I gave up reading and watched the show; both his theatrics and the crowd's reactions. One little boy in particular caught my eye.
While his grandmother tried to pay attention,
he kicked the pew in front of him, he laid down,
he slid off the pew into the floor,
he drew in the back of the hymnal with that stubby little pencil you can usually find in a pew rack,
he loudly chewed gum and he sucked on a mint,
he played with Grandma's car-keys,
and he asked if it was time to go,
oh, about every two minutes.
Finally, as the Preacher launched into a fire-breathing altar call,
with the congregation standing, every head bowed, every eye closed,
I saw him stand on tip-toe and the pew and whisper loudly into Grandma's ear, ARE YOU SURE THIS IS THE ONLY WAY TO GEET TO HEAVEN?
This is the question that, in one way or another, all of us get around to asking eventually.
The man in our Gospel lesson asked, "What must I do to inherit Eternal Life?"
When Jesus tells the disciples that rich people are going to have a hard time getting in, they ask, "Well, who can be saved then?'
"What must I do to be saved?" says one.
"How can I get right with God?" says another.
There are secular, non-religious versions of the question: "What is the meaning of life?" "How can I be fulfilled?" "What does success look like for me?" to me, it's all a part of the same question.
In our Gospel lesson, a man came up and knelt in front of Jesus. We have traditionally referred to him as the "Rich Young Ruler." This is a composite name from three Gospel writers. Matthew calls him "young," Luke calls him a "ruler," and all three say he's "rich."
The man came asking a question to which he thought he already knew the answer. He's like the wicked witch in Snow White talking to the mirror. "Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all."
The rich Young ruler believes he is, and comes to Jesus for affirmation, not information.
He wants Jesus to give him a benediction, a good word. He wants the JESUS OF NAZERETH, PROPHET AND TEACHER, seal of approval on his life. And much to his surprise he doesn't get it; not in the way he had expected.
You see, he had rested his claim on the Kingdom of God on the Twin Pillars of righteousness and riches.
Obey the Ten Commandments and enjoy worldly success.
And worldly success is an outward and visible sign of God's inward and visible blessing.
So the young man believed. And honestly, so did everyone else in that time and place.
That very debate was part of what the book of Job was about.
Do we love God because we're blessed with material things; or are we blessed with material things because we love God?
If we're not blessed, does that mean we're bad?
And if we're clearly good, and we have nothing, does that mean God's not fair?
The people in Jesus' world, including his disciples, believed that morality and material blessing went hand in hand. If you were good, God would bless you with riches and comforts in this world.
So, when Jesus said to the young man, "You lack one thing, go and sell all and give it to the poor. . ."
it wasn't just the giving up of his money and stuff that bumfuzzled him; the rich young ruler's whole world view, his entire way of looking at how the world works, has been turned upside down and inside out.
Remember the little boy at the revival meeting.
After church I was standing in the parking lot talking to my choir members when she came marching him out the door; hat squarely on her head, suitcase-size pocketbook on her arm, holding him by the neck with one hand and swatting at this behind with the other.
He danced ahead of her with that pelvis-forward, swat-avoiding, Michael Jackson moon walk we've all seen. He yelled back at her, "What you hittin' me for? I ain't done nothing."
The rich young ruler hasn't done anything either, and that's just the point. Though he has lived a fastidiously moral life, ("All these I have kept from my youth"), he had never learned that there is more to the moral life, to life in the Kingdom of God, than being good and safe and not wrong.
He had never learned to go the extra mile, to take a risk, to boldly go where he has never gone before.
Jesus looked upon him with love and spoke to him out of that love when he said to him, "You lack one thing."
Because Jesus then tells him to get rid of his wealth and give it to the poor, we can become confused about what Jesus sees as missing in his life.
The man doesn't lack generosity,
he doesn't lack compassion for others,
he doesn't lack doesn't lack morality;
he doesn't lack an awareness of call of God on the Jews to hospitality to the stranger.
This man lacks faith.
He lacks a willingness to trust God both now and into the future.
He lacks a confident and joyous reliance upon the love and generosity of God.
He is relying upon his goodness and his goods to get him through this life and into the next, and Jesus says, "Friend, that's just not good enough."
Why is it hard for a rich person to get into heaven, harder than for a camel to get through the eye of a needle?
Because when you're rich, it's really hard to realize how much you need God and other people.
Being rich is not evil; it is just exceptionally dangerous to your spiritual health.
The question for us today is this: what are we depending on in our relationship with God?
Are we depending on our rightness, our ability to discern and know the right answer to spiritual and religious questions?
Are we depending on our righteousness, on our goodness, on our obedience to the
Ten Commandments?
What is it that keeps us trusting ourselves and not fully trusting God?
What is the one thing that we lack, the one thing that keeps us from totally and completely committing ourselves to God's will and God's way.
What keeps us from doing wild and wonderful right things in the name of the Living Christ?
The Good News is that Jesus has come to transform the impossible into the possible.
Jesus has come to release us from our bondage of serving our selves and our things.
Jesus has come to take us by the scruff of the neck and to drag us kicking and screaming through the eye of that needle, into the center of God's love.
Amen and amen.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Lectionary 27, Pentecost 18
Oct. 4, 2009
Sermon preached at the re-dedication of the building at Cross of Life Lutheran Church, Roswell, Ga.
Text: Hebrews 1:1-4, 5:5-12
Title: But, We Do See Jesus
"As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus . . ."
Almost every Saturday afternoon, I listen to the opera on the Public Radio station.
Now Fred, don't look so surprised. I like opera. Not as much as I like Lynard Skynard or ZZ Topp, but I like Opera.
Well, okay, I don't. Not really, but I like the IDEA of liking opera.
Deep down inside, I feel like I OUGHT to like opera, that a well educated person SHOULD like opera, and so. . .
On Saturday afternoon's I listen to opera.
This is kind of like the theory my wife used in trying to feed our two teen-aged sons liver and broccoli.
She thought if she put it in front of them often enough eventually they would walk in the house one day and say, "Gee Mom, what's for supper? I could sure go for some liver and broccoli right about now."
Not gonna happen. No Way. No how. But, you know; hope springs eternal in the human breast and all that.
Anyway, I listen to opera in the vague hope that someday, somehow, I'll start to like it and can then count myself as a genuinely educated and cultured person.
Every once in a great while I find myself kind of liking a piece, nodding my head and humming along and I think,
Gee, I'm starting to like this opera stuff after all.
But then I realize that the opera pieces I like are the ones they used as soundtracks for the Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd cartoons I watched as a child and I'm back to square one. It's not music appreciation; it's just nostalgia for my childhood.
I'm still listening, and I'm still hoping, but I'm 55. I don't think this plan is working.
As it is, we do not see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus . . .
Many people in our world today are seeking Spiritual Enlightenment. In recent public opinion polls, more people are willing to claim being "spiritual," than are willing to say that they are "religious."
People go looking for "spirituality," the way I have gone looking for "culture and sophistication," and with about the same level of success.
People explore the latest prayer techniques and different churches and praise bands and labyrinth walks and Alpha bible Studies and the Wild Women of the Bible Weekends and Seeking Your Inner Child Men's Drum Circle Sweat Lodge and I don't know what all.
And whatever it is they think they're looking for, if it isn't where they are, well, it must it over the hill or around the corner or in the next place they look or the next.
As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus . . .
The author of the book of Hebrews is, in this text, dealing with the fact that while the biblical witness is that God is in charge of the world; when we look around us, it is difficult to see the evidence that God, or God's angels (them), are actually in charge of much of anything.
As one of my unbelieving college professors put it, "If God is really in charge, he, she or it is doing a lousy job."
War, drugs, disease, natural disaster, economic collapse, starvation; need I go on? Does this look like "everything in subjection. . ." to God?
And let's be honest with one another today. The church, the place those of us gathered here have traditionally looked for hope and meaning is in a confusing place right now.
Not just our ELCA with its debates over sexuality and biblical interpretation and theological thinking; but other denominational families as well.
It is a time of change and uncertainty and discomfort.
It is a time when people are searching for what a prayer in the Lutheran Funeral Service calls a "Sure and certain hope."
That little word "yet," is vital to understanding not only this text, but also the promise of the Gospel to us at times like these.
As it is,we do no yet see . . .
As much as we yearn for and look for and yes, do battle for, certainty and security, the Bible constantly reminds us of what Luther referred to as the "Hidden-ness of God."
It is sometimes referred to as the "already-but-not-yet" Kingdom of God.
As we look around the world for God, God is often difficult to see, difficult to pin down.
And sometimes, just when we think we have the holy in our hands, it slips away as we realize we were mistaken; as I was when I thought I liked opera but it turned out to be cartoons I liked.
The author of Hebrews reminds us that we are to look to Jesus to see what God is doing in the world.
We are to look particularly at the fact that Jesus gave up his place at the right hand of God to become human like us. Who for a little while became lower than the angels, the text says.
And that as a result of this coming into humanity with us, Jesus suffered and died and "tasted death for everyone."
NO, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus.
We are here today re-dedicating a church facility. My younger brother is an architect. He has taught me to always remember the mantra, "form follows function."
That is to say, How you shape a building should be dependent on what you want to do in that building.
That which is true of buildings is true of church communities. How we shape ourselves depends on what we believe our purpose in the world to be.
It is my simple contention today that our purpose as a community is to remind the world to look to Christ and the Cross in the midst of the "not-yet" of our lives, and it is the purpose of this building to help us do that.
A few years ago, the Barna Research Group did a poll asking this simple question: What are the most important words you've ever heard? That's it. What are the three most important words you've ever heard?
Family feud style, #1 answer didn't surprise anyone: I love you.
#2 didn't surprise anyone either: I forgive you.
But # 3 dropped a few jaws; Dinner's ready, come eat.
That is the Gospel we proclaim, that is the function of this building and its form tells the tale.
The cross that looms over everything reminds us all of how much God loves us, that "by the grace of God Jesus tasted death for everyone."
The font in the middle of the aisle reminds us of God's forgiveness and our forgiveness of others each time we enter this room, it calls us back to the waters of our baptism and propels us into the world with a hope grounded in the knowledge that we have been freed from the bondage to our faults and failures, that we have been loosed from our to go confidently into the future.
And here, front and center is the altar. Here we, and the whole world, are invited to come forward to receive the sacrament of the table. My wife is an Episcopalian. When I get to go to church with her I love it when I'm kneeling at the altar and the pastor gives me the bread and says,
This is the body of Christ, the bread of heaven. Take it in remembrance that Christ died for you, and feed on him in your heart with thanksgiving.
At the altar we shout out to the world, Dinner's ready, come eat.
In this place, we offer Jesus to the world. We say to everyone, "We know the world does not yet reveal that God is in charge, but here, I this place, you can see Jesus; on the cross, in the water, at the table; God cries out to us; I love you, I forgive you; dinner's ready, come eat."
Amen and amen.
Sermon preached at the re-dedication of the building at Cross of Life Lutheran Church, Roswell, Ga.
Text: Hebrews 1:1-4, 5:5-12
Title: But, We Do See Jesus
"As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus . . ."
Almost every Saturday afternoon, I listen to the opera on the Public Radio station.
Now Fred, don't look so surprised. I like opera. Not as much as I like Lynard Skynard or ZZ Topp, but I like Opera.
Well, okay, I don't. Not really, but I like the IDEA of liking opera.
Deep down inside, I feel like I OUGHT to like opera, that a well educated person SHOULD like opera, and so. . .
On Saturday afternoon's I listen to opera.
This is kind of like the theory my wife used in trying to feed our two teen-aged sons liver and broccoli.
She thought if she put it in front of them often enough eventually they would walk in the house one day and say, "Gee Mom, what's for supper? I could sure go for some liver and broccoli right about now."
Not gonna happen. No Way. No how. But, you know; hope springs eternal in the human breast and all that.
Anyway, I listen to opera in the vague hope that someday, somehow, I'll start to like it and can then count myself as a genuinely educated and cultured person.
Every once in a great while I find myself kind of liking a piece, nodding my head and humming along and I think,
Gee, I'm starting to like this opera stuff after all.
But then I realize that the opera pieces I like are the ones they used as soundtracks for the Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd cartoons I watched as a child and I'm back to square one. It's not music appreciation; it's just nostalgia for my childhood.
I'm still listening, and I'm still hoping, but I'm 55. I don't think this plan is working.
As it is, we do not see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus . . .
Many people in our world today are seeking Spiritual Enlightenment. In recent public opinion polls, more people are willing to claim being "spiritual," than are willing to say that they are "religious."
People go looking for "spirituality," the way I have gone looking for "culture and sophistication," and with about the same level of success.
People explore the latest prayer techniques and different churches and praise bands and labyrinth walks and Alpha bible Studies and the Wild Women of the Bible Weekends and Seeking Your Inner Child Men's Drum Circle Sweat Lodge and I don't know what all.
And whatever it is they think they're looking for, if it isn't where they are, well, it must it over the hill or around the corner or in the next place they look or the next.
As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus . . .
The author of the book of Hebrews is, in this text, dealing with the fact that while the biblical witness is that God is in charge of the world; when we look around us, it is difficult to see the evidence that God, or God's angels (them), are actually in charge of much of anything.
As one of my unbelieving college professors put it, "If God is really in charge, he, she or it is doing a lousy job."
War, drugs, disease, natural disaster, economic collapse, starvation; need I go on? Does this look like "everything in subjection. . ." to God?
And let's be honest with one another today. The church, the place those of us gathered here have traditionally looked for hope and meaning is in a confusing place right now.
Not just our ELCA with its debates over sexuality and biblical interpretation and theological thinking; but other denominational families as well.
It is a time of change and uncertainty and discomfort.
It is a time when people are searching for what a prayer in the Lutheran Funeral Service calls a "Sure and certain hope."
That little word "yet," is vital to understanding not only this text, but also the promise of the Gospel to us at times like these.
As it is,we do no yet see . . .
As much as we yearn for and look for and yes, do battle for, certainty and security, the Bible constantly reminds us of what Luther referred to as the "Hidden-ness of God."
It is sometimes referred to as the "already-but-not-yet" Kingdom of God.
As we look around the world for God, God is often difficult to see, difficult to pin down.
And sometimes, just when we think we have the holy in our hands, it slips away as we realize we were mistaken; as I was when I thought I liked opera but it turned out to be cartoons I liked.
The author of Hebrews reminds us that we are to look to Jesus to see what God is doing in the world.
We are to look particularly at the fact that Jesus gave up his place at the right hand of God to become human like us. Who for a little while became lower than the angels, the text says.
And that as a result of this coming into humanity with us, Jesus suffered and died and "tasted death for everyone."
NO, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus.
We are here today re-dedicating a church facility. My younger brother is an architect. He has taught me to always remember the mantra, "form follows function."
That is to say, How you shape a building should be dependent on what you want to do in that building.
That which is true of buildings is true of church communities. How we shape ourselves depends on what we believe our purpose in the world to be.
It is my simple contention today that our purpose as a community is to remind the world to look to Christ and the Cross in the midst of the "not-yet" of our lives, and it is the purpose of this building to help us do that.
A few years ago, the Barna Research Group did a poll asking this simple question: What are the most important words you've ever heard? That's it. What are the three most important words you've ever heard?
Family feud style, #1 answer didn't surprise anyone: I love you.
#2 didn't surprise anyone either: I forgive you.
But # 3 dropped a few jaws; Dinner's ready, come eat.
That is the Gospel we proclaim, that is the function of this building and its form tells the tale.
The cross that looms over everything reminds us all of how much God loves us, that "by the grace of God Jesus tasted death for everyone."
The font in the middle of the aisle reminds us of God's forgiveness and our forgiveness of others each time we enter this room, it calls us back to the waters of our baptism and propels us into the world with a hope grounded in the knowledge that we have been freed from the bondage to our faults and failures, that we have been loosed from our to go confidently into the future.
And here, front and center is the altar. Here we, and the whole world, are invited to come forward to receive the sacrament of the table. My wife is an Episcopalian. When I get to go to church with her I love it when I'm kneeling at the altar and the pastor gives me the bread and says,
This is the body of Christ, the bread of heaven. Take it in remembrance that Christ died for you, and feed on him in your heart with thanksgiving.
At the altar we shout out to the world, Dinner's ready, come eat.
In this place, we offer Jesus to the world. We say to everyone, "We know the world does not yet reveal that God is in charge, but here, I this place, you can see Jesus; on the cross, in the water, at the table; God cries out to us; I love you, I forgive you; dinner's ready, come eat."
Amen and amen.
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