An Extra Day

This is the day that the Lord has made--let us rejoice and be glad in it!

Leap year--the 29th of February is added to set all things right celestially. The earth revolves around the sun every 364 1/4 days, so we need an extra day every four years to get back in sync.

Much has been made of what to do with this "freebie," even I wrote about that topic earlier in the month. But today I'm of the opinion that it's just another day like any other.

Now that might steal the magic of it from you--but let me explain...

Every day is a freebie! Every day is a gift from God, freely given by our creator. Just because it's the 29th of February doesn't mean we should celebrate that more, or less. We should just celebrate it!!

What can you do to celebrate? Pray in thanksgiving to God. Read a Psalm (a happy one, not a lament this time). Do something nice for someone. Be a disciple. Study God's word in a way that suits your learning style. Be an apostle. Witness to the gospel in a way that suits you as well. Smile at everyone you meet!

For this is the day that the Lord has made-let us rejoice and be glad in it!!!

O God, thank you for creating me and all that there is. Enjoy it together with me as I go about my daily routine. In Jesus' name, amen.

Fasting

Doug gave a real good talk on fasting last night. He talked about its origins and uses and misuses throughout the ages. Fasting (from food usually, but also from other things) is a good way to remind ourselves of God's care for us--and the needs of others who might "fast" unintentionally.

It was suggested that we all "fast" for one meal this week, and put an offering for World Hunger in the plate on Sunday (equal to the cost of the meal).

Also, this past Lutheran magazine has an article on the spiritual disciplines of Lent (alms giving, prayer and fasting) that has a good take on fasting - it's a quick read.

Doug did mention that biblical fasting always coincides with prayer, so here's a prayer for today...

God, you satisfy the needs of the whole world, but our sinful ways disrupt the equal sharing of resources. Help us to fast from sin and selfishness, that all might have enough. In Jesus name, amen

Prayer

We proclaim your death, Lord
We sing to you, O Christ, for your glorious resurrection.
We have been judged worthy to approach this mystical ineffable banquet.

Let us share joyfully,
in the spiritual gifts here before us;
let us sing with the angels
the canticle of victory.

The Lord, who abides in the Father's bosom,
is on the cross as well, today;
of his own will,
he chose to be buried like a mortal man;
but on the third day, he rose again
and gave us the gift of his great mercy.

Early Christian prayer

Rebirth

To everything there is a season --Ecclesiastes

I got all excited about seeing a patch of grass this afternoon. Granted, it was uncovered by the plow, and no doubt will be covered tonight in another winter storm, but it made me feel good--hopeful, even. Hopeful that spring will come someday, and hopeful in new life made possible through the cross and resurrection! It's good to know that even though there's a time for every season, there's also times when one season intrudes upon another--giving us a glimpse of what's to come. Same with the resurrection--we catch glimpses of it even during Lent, like patches of grass showing on a snowy lawn.

Look for those patches in your life--and hope!

God, intrude upon the winter with hints of spring, and in our lives with dazzling glimpses of the glory to come! Amen

Scaffolded Church

Those of you who didn't get a chance to see and hear Bill's presentation on the Church in China missed a great one! It was so interesting to hear about this country that contains so much of the world's population -- how they live and worship there.

The one image that stood out for me, I believe Bill attributed to Bishop Ting of China. Bill said that many of the churches in China are under repair or under construction, so there's scaffolding enveloping many of them. The bishop sees this as a fine metaphor for the church in China--it has a shape that shifts from time to time as things evolve, and the church that will be is emerging from within the scaffolding. It can't be seen just yet, but it is being shaped day by day.

Isn't that great? And it's a great way to view "sanctification" as well. Sanctification is the Spirit's work of making us holy--more and more like Jesus each day. Our spiritual beings are emerging from the framework of our human existence, to be revealed as complete on the day of the Lord. Until then we continue to build upon the foundation of Christ Jesus and work towards making the here and now as close in form to the future as possible.

Oh God, we are all works of you, the master builder. Guide your church in China as it evolves, aid her leaders, empower her people. And be with us as we continue to be formed by your Holy Spirit! Amen

Can He? (Sunday's sermon)

You gotta say this for President Bush—his visit to Africa last week must have stirred up a lot of good will towards the United States. Because, I don’t know about you, but I received in my email inbox, not one, not two, but three (three!) offers from people in Nigeria. One wanted help in getting some money out of an account—all I had to do was take a check for $10,000 dollars and transfer $8,000 from my account to his—netting me a quick and easy two grand. Sweet deal! The next offer was someone who saw my website and wanted to sell my products in Nigeria and would do so for an investment of a mere $3K. Such a deal! The third was from a fine upstanding Nigerian citizen who wished to emigrate to the United States and was interested in the job I had posted online. Finally, someone applied!

Although, come to think of it, I never posted an online help wanted ad. And I don’t have any products to sell. And no website either. And I suppose that thing with the bank account is bogus too, don’t you think? Ah, pity. For a minute there, I was thinking—can this be it? The answer to my prayers, the solution to my problems, the long-awaited hero who will make everything right? I was thinking: “This can’t be it, can it?”

Can it? Obviously not in these scenarios. You’d be a fool to think otherwise. But sometimes, it’s harder to tell what’s the real deal. When the lines are blurrier and the details much more plausible, then—then it becomes an exercise in cold, clear logic versus against pure, unbridled optimism. And logic always has the upper hand. Because we are trained skeptics. We have been programmed by our modern world to be analytical, critical thinkers—to question all aspects of the miraculous, to pick apart the heroes motivations, to find the catch in everything and anything.

What’s the old saying, “If it sounds too good to be true…it probably is. Probably. That’s where the difficulty comes in. “Probably” shuts the door, but leaves the window open a crack, giving just enough room so that hoping against hype, we may just be able to place our tentative trust in something not readily verifiable. Probably can’t be—can it?

So it was for one Samaritan woman on a hot summer’s day by Jacob’s well. She had come in the heat of the noonday, not by choice—for fetching water was a morning and evening chore for the women—better to draw and carry in the cool of the day. No, she was there in the hottest part of the day because that was the only time she was sure no one else would be there. Be there to remark upon her living arrangements, to gossip loudly about her string of husbands, or to speculate on the reasons for both. She had heard all of them already—she was a prostitute, or she was barren, or she had a demon—take your choice, they all hurt. Coming for water at this hour was worth it for the solitude.

But as she approaches the well, she sees someone is there. But no matter—it is a man. He’ll not even acknowledge her, much less speak with her. She couldn’t have been more wrong. For less than five minutes later, she will be revealed for who she really is—and he will reveal, for the first time ever, his true identity. To her. A Samaritan. A Samaritan woman. A Samaritan woman who lived with a man out of wedlock.

Oh, there was bantering back and forth before they got there. He asking for water. She wondering out loud why he, a Jewish man, would want water from her. He offering her living water that would satisfy thirst forever. She asking for that water so she’d never need come to the dreaded well again. He revealing her history and present living arrangements. She retreating behind a practical theology question. He giving her a surprising answer. She mentioning the Messiah. He telling her, “That’s me.”

And then, suddenly, something that was too good to be true—that God’s anointed one would appear to her, a troubled woman on the edges of society, at a well in Samaria, in the form of an itinerant rabbi—something way too outrageous to be true, just maybe is. Possibly is. Perhaps is. Is it? She runs off to the city, leaving her water jar behind, and telling everyone she meets, not afraid of what they think now--“Come meet a man who told me everything I’ve ever done. He can’t be the Messiah—can he?”

Well, can he? That’s the basis for the questions we wonder about still today, even knowing what we know about Jesus. We say to ourselves: I’m a wreck—Jesus can’t love me, can he? Or: He can’t bring real meaning to my life—can he? Or: he can’t heal my child who’s ill—can he? Or: What I’ve done is bad—he can’t forgive me—can he?

Can he? That’s a question born of faith. Faith sprouting from amazement. We usually ask such questions when we’re surprised by Jesus, like the Samaritan woman was. Jesus surprised her first by interacting with her, then by telling her about herself, and then by offering her living water—despite the first two.

Jesus surprises us first by showing up. He does so in unexpected form, in all kinds of circumstances—like a woman bringing you a meal after your hospital stay, like a card of condolence at the death of your uncle, like a teen with a snow shovel clearing your roof, like someone to cry with you over the demise of your favorite teddy bear in the washer-dryer. Jesus shows up. You may or may not recognize him. But he shows up.

Jesus surprises us by telling us all about ourselves. Not just the good things we’re proud of and show to the world. Also the things we’re ashamed of and would never let see the light of day. Things we don’t confess to ourselves, much less anyone else. Things we thought no one knew. But Jesus knows, and no matter how much we maneuver away from and dance around the truth—the truth remains. “You’ve had five husbands and the one you’re living with now is not your husband.” Insert your sin here. Surprise!

Jesus then shocks the hell out of us. And I say that quite literally because Jesus’ final surprise is that while we are still sinners he offers us that living water he told the woman at the well about. He drives the hold and threat of hell out of us with the power and promise of the cross, renews and restores us from the fountain of God’s love, and then he turns us loose in the world on a mission to tell the world to be on the lookout for him. To be looking for Jesus. Because he shows up. Freely. Unbidden. Powerfully. Graciously.

I know, I know. It sounds too good to be true. And if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. But not in this case. In this case, it’s too good not to be true. It’s so counter cultural, counter intuitive, and counter productive, that no one could have possibly made it up. They would have done a much better job if they had.

I mean, who ever heard of a god who gives up his life for those who, by their actions, are opposed to him?

Whoever heard of a god who breaks the sinful boundaries of human society bursting the bonds of racism, sexism, ageism, and any number of other –isms—to reach out in love and respect to someone different?

Whoever heard of a god who dispenses forgiveness and favor both lavishly and gracefully, without concern for who you are or what you’ve done?

Whoever heard of such a god? You have—his name is Jesus. You have—and his forgiveness is yours in the tangible form of bread and wine. You have—and he gave his life that you might live with God. You have heard of such a God.

And now that you’ve gotten your water from the well, it’s time to turn around and head back into the community with what you’ve encountered rushing off your lips. Come and see! Come and see! See a place where everyone doesn’t get along all the time, but that doesn’t keep them from being brothers and sisters. Come and see a place where you can reveal your inner hurts and not be brushed aside, but cared for. Come and see a place where everybody knows my name—cause I wear a nametag to help visitors get to know me. Come and see. Come and drink of the living water that satisfies forever.

We are filled up and sent out. Into the harvest. And we will, like the Samaritan woman, by our excitement and exuberance, attract people to this place. And we will bring people to this place where Christ can meet them. And not just a few. Many.

How do I know? Because I have faith that the time is right, the place is right, the people are right—everything is right now for an abundant harvest.

And Jesus cannot be willing it—can he?

Contemplating in the Cross

"Whoever would be my disciple, let them pick up their cross and follow me." -Jesus

I'm sitting in the sanctuary writing this. I'm here setting up the computer and projector for Bill's slideshow on China in the morning, and I had some time before he comes in to practice. And I got to thinking--"I'm sitting in the cross." The cross formed by the arrangement of the chairs for Lent. What does that mean symbolically?

First, that I am a part of the cross--a part of what killed Jesus, and also a part of the sin he took away on that cross. It's two parts of the same thing--like the two bars of the cross, one vertical, one horizontal.

Second, the font is part of the cross--it's enveloped with in it by the chairs. That reminds me of what St. Paul wrote--"If we share in a death like his, we shall surely share in a life like his." Baptism is the "death," a death to sin--which was achieved on the cross! It's fitting for the font to be in the cross.

Third, the Lord's table is at the center of the cross, as it should be. Because it is there at the altar where we receive the body and blood of Jesus--it is where earth and heaven intersect and we are able to touch God. Just like the center of the cross is the place where that vertical bar meets the horizontal.

Fourth and final--the pulpit is a part of the cross. There we find the Word of God--just as we do on the cross of Christ, God's eternal Logos. There Jesus is proclaimed--as he was in the sign "King of the Jews," and by the centurion "Truly this man was the Son of God. Again St. Paul--I do not proclaim myself, only Christ, the crucified one!"
The pulpit is right at home in the cross.

Tomorrow I hope to see you "in the cross." Until then may God keep you in true faith unto eternal life. Amen

Pastor Tom

The first Evangelist

"Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman's testimony..." John 4:39

This Sunday in church, at gospel time, we'll hear a dramatization of the story of the "Woman at the Well" (John 4:5-42) It's a long passage in John, with much dialog (in fact, Jesus speaks to this woman more than he does Peter in the gospel account of John!), so I thought you might enjoy hearing it acted out on tape. The audio comes from the Faith Comes By Hearing bible program (faithcomesbyhearing.com) that we did up in Maine, and I believe you did here at Messiah as well.

It should be a pleasant diversion from our routine, but there's another reason for bringing this program back into the light. And that's its name--Faith comes by hearing. Hearing--faith is transmitted by the lowly means of the human voice. Jesus told the Samaritan woman "everything she had ever done," and taught her concerning living water and spiritual worship. He gave her faith. She then transmitted it--to anyone who would listen! In fact she is called the "first evangelist" for her efforts.

Imagine if all of us were so open with our faith! If we told everyone we knew what Jesus has done for us. That's the way faith is passed on--orally by someone telling and someone hearing. Not that you should carry a soapbox around with you or preach on the street corner or in front of Walmart. But that you shouldn't let simple opportunities to witness pass by--even innocent routine circumstances like getting water from the well--or its modern day equivalent--standing around the water cooler (do people still do that in this age of bottled water?).

Be aware and when an opportunity arises, insert God into the conversation. People want to hear about God--statistics prove it. Why shouldn't they hear about him from you?

Oh God, help us to be willing witnesses to your story in our lives. Amen

Suffering

"...we also boast in our sufferings..." --St. Paul in Romans 5

This is an often misinterpreted passage from Romans. Taken out of context it seems to say our suffering is a good, almost welcome, thing. And although God can and does draw good out of even the worst of suffering--that's not what St. Paul is getting at in this passage.

He's talking about suffering for the witness to Christ Jesus--persecution. Sufferings like being jailed, flogged, jeered at, stoned, or ostracized. These are the sufferings that he says lead to endurance, character, and hope.

Suffering in the other sense of the word is not admired or applauded, it is to be prevented and alleviated. Christ came into the world as a healer and exorcist He came to put an eventual end to suffering. And Christ leads us through the Spirit in our attempts to hasten that end--through science, medicine, economics. politics, and more.

So perhaps the worst thing we can say to someone who's suffering is "God is trying to teach you something," or some other lovingly misguided malapropism. I believe God abhors suffering and therefore sent his Son to take on the suffering of the world and redeem it. Thereby giving meaning to suffering, while never admiring it for its own sake.

And of course, God is most present in suffering, for that is where we need God most. He's present in the hands and hearts of those who work to end suffering--even us. He's present in the sacraments. And God is present in Spirit to those who call on his name.


Oh God, be with those who suffer this day. Give them courage and hope and strength. Give us the love and knowledge and perseverance to walk with them and seek to end their pain. Amen

This is Wednesday's Post

I neglected to post yesterday! Mea culpa!

So here's Wednesday's post--the last one -- pretend that's Tuesday's!


"Come let worship and bow down, let us kneel before the Lord our maker." Psalm 95:6


This is what's known as an "entrance psalm," obviously one the people of Israel sang as they entered the temple. It praises God for all God's creative works, and bids us "worship" God.

What does it mean to worship God? The remainder of the verse says we should kneel before God. That's a symbolic way of worshiping because it brings us physically lower than the object of our worship--saying in effect: "God is higher than me," higher on the scale of things I care about. Higher than even me.

Another way to look at it is to consider the word "worship" broken down into its roots. Think of it as "worth-ship" - that which is worthy of our praise and thanksgiving. The psalmist lists the various parts of creation and God's control over them as being proof that God is worship worthy.

Now, there may be other things in your life that you worship (falsely). But in the end, they fail us as gods. It is only the one true God that delivers as creator, redeemer, and sustainer. wednesday and everyday!

See you at worship tonight?

Pastor Tom

Thirsty

Why did you bring us out of Egypt--to kill us with thirst? --people of Israel to Moses (Ex 17:3)


How many of you are pessimists? Every silver lining has a dark cloud? That's the way I approach the world, I'm sorry to say. (Fortunately I'm married to the world's greatest optimist so we balance out!). I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop, and the worst case scenario to occur. I can pick out the down side to everything!

So I resonate with the first reading for this coming Sunday (it Ex 17:1-7--go read it. Go ahead, I'll wait..........) In it the newly freed Israelites camp out in the wilderness and all is hunkey-dorey, save for one thing. No water. (Okay that is a big thing) But they're all over Moses and God for it right away--as if God didn't know it already. They complain and act all pessimistic until God has Moses strike a rock with his staff and produce a stream of water out of it. Chances are the Israelites only saw that rock as half full!

Too often we focus on what we don't have, to the detriment of what we do have. Case in point--budget shortfalls. That red ink gets all the attention, while the ministry being done by all the black ink goes unnoticed. God has provided this church with people, with resources galore, and with a fine sense of stewardship as being giving from your abundance and not to a scarcity. God has gathered you together, worked with you, listened to your prayers, and blessed you with leaders and a wonderful mission base from which to go out with the good news.

The question is--do we see the church as half empty, or half full? Do we let our thirst overide our trust in God and so put God to the test. Or do we have faith that the one who began a good work in Messiah will be faithful to complete it? Not that we sit back and wait for God to "provide." But that we go out and seek the resources that God has already provided--that's an optimistic approach.

Pastor Tom

Rainy Days and Monday

What's that old song lyric--rainy days and Mondays always get me down? Well, today's both! What a downer! I'm dreading even going out of the house to get the mail---the rain-soaked, ice field driveway is sure to be hazardous!

Such a day is perfect for whining and complaining. I feel every sore muscle and creaky joint on a day like today, and all my grand plans and schemes seem unattainable. It seems somehow "right" to be cranky about it all.

In the bible such emotion is expressed in the "lament," in which the speaker cries out to God, describing his pain, and inviting God's intervention. In fact there's even a book of the bible called "Lamentations" which is made up of sad poetry concerning the cities of Israel. Laments always end with a statement of the author's faith that God is with him, even in his pain, and ultimately will deliver him from it.

Nobody here wants to hear my gripes, so it's good to know that God listens even to our cranky prayers. Listens...and answers!

God of the rain and snow, it's yukky out and I feel depressed and out of sorts. Yet with you there is hope and promise, and a new day in which the sun shines. Help us through our pain and sadness and help us to be sunshine in the lives of people who need it. Amen

3:16

He couldn’t believe his luck when he actually got a great seat for the season at Fenway. Usually all the seats were gone in an instant, and here he was calling a full fifteen minutes past the box office opening, due to the fact that a client just wouldn’t get off the phone with him. But wonder of wonders! They had a seat available right on the first base line, a mere seven rows up off the field! No telling why such desirable real estate was left unsold—but, no matter, it was his now! He imagined himself in the ballpark, cheering on the Sox from his very own seat. He could hardly wait!!

The next few months went by so agonizingly slowly. Spring training came and went, but the exhibition season just dragged on, and it was all he could do to keep his sanity while he waited for Opening Day. But it finally came.

He went down to the stadium early, to check out his seat. It was even better than expected—right even with first base, just up off the field enough to see better, and there was a concession stand and restroom a mere 50 yards away. He thanked his lucky stars for giving him this gift. He settled in to watch batting practice, then popped out to the concession stand for a Fenway Frank and a tall, cold one.

And it was when he returned to his seat, that he found out why it had been for sale even fifteen minutes after the opening bell. There, sitting in the seat right next to him, bedecked in his trademark rainbow wig and holding the sign which gave him his nickname, was the “3:16 Guy.” John 3:16, that is, he gathered that much. Although not being religious, he hadn’t a clue what that meant. All he knew was that this guy was a nuisance—he’d seen him before on televised games, waving his sign and shouting out things like, “Jesus loves you!” when a Red Sox player struck out. It was going to be a royal pain sitting next to him.

And that proved to be true. Every game the 3:16 guy was there holding up his sign whenever a play was made to first and the camera was on him. Every game he was there in that stupid rainbow wig that shook when he danced the watermelon—which he did whenever that “Charge!” thing played on the loudspeakers. You know the one “Dah dah dha……CHARGE!” Only 3:16 guy would substitute GOD for “charge.” Annoying.

And that’s not to mention the collateral damage—the misguided missiles meant for 3:16 that hit him instead. Diet cokes, wrappers of all kinds, a whole walk-away sundae once, and, the worst, the slushie—they all rained down on him and the 3:16 guy. Though it didn’t seem to bother him—he just kept smiling away and saying things like, “God forgives all who seek forgiveness,” and “Jesus came to save us all.”

He did get a respite along about the seventh inning stretch when 3:16 guy evidently went to the restroom, or to get a snack. Sometimes he didn’t return until the last out—just in time to wave his sign and dance the watermelon, win or lose. (he even danced when the Sox lost to the Yankees!) He looked forward to these pleasant interludes, but all the same, he began to wonder what 3:16 did during that time—where he went—did he talk with anyone? It became an obsession—he just had to know.

So one day when the Sox were deep in hole with no rescue in sight, he followed 3:16 when he left during the seventh. He scooted down to a back hallway where a drug deal was going wrong, and before you knew it, he had switched places with the druggie, who walked away with a new light burning in his eyes. 3:16 just shrugged his shoulders at the dealer, whose best customer was now headed for the front gate. He swore and threatened 3:16, but he just held up his sign as he ambled off.

Following him around the corner, he saw a homeless man being shooed away by a security guard. But before the man could be ejected, 3:16 was there with him, talking with him and taking the jacket off his back and giving it to him. He couldn’t believe his eyes—he never knew this about the guy!

On the way back to the seats 3:16 stopped to help three other people, a young black man in an argument with some white men, a teenager who was sick on stolen beer, and a concession stand employee being abused by a customer. All three he replaced, and they walked off while he smiled that goofy grin and danced the watermelon!

Well, he was amazed! And ashamed. And a little ticked off as well. He followed the 3:16 guy every game now, always during the seventh inning, missing a good amount of good baseball. And each time the guy would take on the problems and situations of those in trouble, then go back to the game to be pelted with peanuts. Finally he could stand it no longer—he had to know who this guy was working for. And how he did the things he did.

Now granted, he could have just asked him while they were sitting together in their seats. But he had a rep to keep up—he didn’t want his friends to know he was flirting with religion—even from some kook in a rainbow wig.

So he went to him under the cover of a night game. Met him in the hallway where he was talking to an old man about redemption and reconciliation. When they were finished, (the old man walking away spryly), he cornered 3:16.

“Hey,” he said, not knowing how to start. “Hey, who are you? Are you some kind of angel or something? I mean…I’ve seen some of the stuff you’ve done. No one could do that apart from God.” He felt the word “god” roll off his tongue. He had rarely used it before and he decided it felt good to finally be saying it.

Old 3:16 just smiled and pointed up. “From above, baby,” he said, “From above!” He looked up, his eyes following the guy’s finger. He had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the upper mezzanine. Could this guy really be from God? Somehow he doubted it. God to him was this angry, vengeful deity, when he thought of God at all. He was only interested in punishment and rules. He didn’t have the sense of humor needed to send a rainbow wigged, placard carrying, do-gooder and evangelist, who danced the watermelon while singing Jesus Loves Me. Did he?

H thought about it for a while as he stood looking at 3:16. The sign caught his eye. “Well, the least you can do is tell me what 3:16 is!” Suddenly a puff of wind blew down the hallway from the field entrance—it ruffled the rainbow wig, making it seem alive. The guy’s eyes locked onto his own and he spoke.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life.

Then he smiled, turned and walked down towards the seats. Later, at home, he looked up the passage. It surprised him that God loved the world—why was beyond him. The next verse took him aback as well:

Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

“That must be what they mean by grace,” he thought.

Well, things were a little different in the seats after that. He didn’t get upset so much, and he even glared at some of the rowdies who tossed trash at 3:16. He fell into a routine acceptance of the guy, and the season breezed along. Until one Friday afternoon game.

He followed 3:16 as usual. The guy stood in for a shoplifter and a lost kid before he turned a corner and ran smack into a crowd of angry people – the security guard, the drug dealer, and those skinheads—all the ones he had thwarted with his substitutions. They grabbed 3:16. They punched him and knocked him to the floor, where they kicked him. Suddenly they turned and looked behind themselves and noticed him watching, in horror. “You with this guy,” they asked? He quickly considered his plight and denied it. Denied it up and down, back and forth. Even went so far as to give a little kick to 3:16 before walking stiffly away. He had no doubt they would have killed him if he had tried to defend 3:16. No doubt they were killing him. He walked around the corner. Then he ran–right out of Fenway and all the way home, crying as he went. At home he sat on the couch, shivering, though it was a summer’s night. Anguish bled from his soul.

The next game was Sunday. As the stadium filled up, the sun shone down on the section behind first base, and the batters had a good workout. The first pitch was thrown, and was hit – popped foul. It came down right in that section. As the cameras panned over the crowd they caught a triumphant teen, her glove held open to reveal her newest Sox souvenir.

And there behind her, two rows up, wig sparkling in the new day’s sun, was the 3:16 guy, waving his sign and doing the watermelon dance for all he was worth. The camera zoomed in on him as he smiled. No more than a few people watching that morning noticed that he had moved over a seat…

What you have heard in the dark, now say out loud in the light!

For God so loved the world, he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life. AMEN

Quote for Today

I have held many things in my hands,

and I have lost them all;

but whatever I have placed in God's hands,

that I still possess.

--Martin Luther

Welcome!

"Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name, welcomes me..." --Jesus in Mark 9

Wat do we do to welcome children to our church? That question came to mind as I attended a workshop on welcoming visitors to church. I noticed there were lots of ideas on welcoming adults--packets and bags and videos and mugs and you-name-it. But no mention of making the children who visit us comfortable and well-received.

I think we're missing the boat here, and I kinda think Jesus would agree, based on the above (although some scholars think he was talking about those new to the faith-no matter). So what can we do during Lent especially, but beyond that season to always, what can we do to welcome children into our midst? Here's some ideas I have--what are yours? let me know--it will be a god way to practice the spiritual discipline of hospitality that Brian will speak on next Wednesday evening at Holden Prayer.

1. Speak directly to children, knowing that they can be shy. Don't speak down to them--get your face on their level. Ideally we should have child greeters and CIA (Christ in Action) agents on hand.

2. incorporate child friendly materials into welcome packets--a coloring page, a simple craft, a whacky novelty with the church's name on it, something for teens perhaps.

3. Support our nursery with your presence--sign up to do nursery once in awhile, even if you've no kids that age. A well-staffed nursery is good for kids as well as their parents. Support our Sunday School as teachers and by bringing your children regularly--a full house is easier for a child to integrate into.

4. invite them back again-to Sunday School, a youth event, to worship--whatever. A personal invitation to them will go a long way to making them feel valued as a person.

5. develop worship kits for visiting children. Maybe a children's bulletin, a treat to sample during the sermon, a pack of crayons, and a storybook--different things for different age groups.

The way we welcome them, is the way we welcome Christ in our midst--food for thought. Let's make it our discipline to welcome children graciously at all times!

Pastor Tom

Big Brother

"The Lord will keep watch over your going out and your coming in, from this time forth forevermore." Psalm 121:8


I heard on a news program some time ago that Americans are on camera an average eight times a day. From cameras at intersections and toll booths, to security cameras in store, to surveillance cameras just about everywhere, we are turning into a "watched" nation. Shades of "Big Brother's watching you."

It feels fairly intrusive. In fact some suggest video-recording us without our permission is a violation of both our privacy and our civil liberties. Of course, there is the benefit derived from all this camera work. That being heightened security and safety, and the ability to track down offenders.

Some of us view God's omniscience (all-knowingness) as a type of intrusion. The verse above quoted completely out of context could add to that feeling. It appears to say that God's a-watching you so you'd better be good for goodness sake. He has his eye on you!

When you hear the rest of the psalm, however, you get the full picture. God is not big brother. God is like a watchman who protects us from evil. He is far better than a camera, for while he doesn't sleep, God also does something about the things that would harm us. God is our protector 24/7!

So what about the evil that does befall us?

That's for another day. But as for today, thank God for his loving, watchful eye. Feel safe knowing God is always looking out for you. And you might even want to look up and wave!

O God, thank you for watching over me! Amen

Open to All

"The Lord said to Abram, 'Go from you country and your kindred and your father's house to the land I will show you.'" (Gen 12:1)

In what's lovingly called the "Draft" by seniors in seminary, the graduating classes are divvied up to the different regions and synods. A form is filled out by each graduate, listing their preferences for assignment--first choice, second choice, third choice. There's also a spot for one to say "open to all." It's a difficult decision to make--open to all may land you far from your home state and family support systems. It takes faith and it takes courage to write open to all. And I believe that is the optimal arrangement as far a God is concerned--God would want you to be open to all. (Yet God understands human weakness too, and works through it just the same.)

I think that God wants all of us to be "open to all." Open to all the opportunities to learn, serve, be refreshed, worship, and tell the story. Sometimes these will land us outside our comfort zone, but God doesn't send us out empty-handed. God equips us when he sends us to do his will.

Yet it's a scary proposition. One of my favorite prayers goes something like this--"O God you send us to places unknown, on paths yet to be determined..." God understands our fears and works through them in ways that are yet to be revealed.

During Lent, be open to what God is calling you to do, and be certain that God goes with you on your journey--wherever it may take you.

Undercover Christian?

"Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night..." (John 3;1-2a)


Nicodemus was intrigued by Jesus, and was likely a believer. But he was afraid to come and see Jesus in the light of day. What would his Pharisee friends say? What would it do to his political ambitions? Better to keep his interest and belief under wraps.

We are sometimes like Nicodemus - worshiping Jesus Christ on Sunday morning. but keeping him under wraps in our daily lives. Not mentioning our faith. Not living as we ought. Not reflecting Christ's love. That's being an "undercover Christian."

But God calls us to say in the light what we hear in the darkness (Mt 10:27), to proclaim Jesus as Lord and Savior in all we say, do, or think. Not to shove Jesus down our friends throats. But not denying him in our daily lives either.

Nicodemus eventually revealed his belief - he even provided the materials for Jesus' burial. And so there's hope for us undercover Christians as well. Today find some way to reveal your faith to others. Pray at lunch, mention your church, give to a homeless man--whatever opportunity presents itself.

And live in the light!

Pastor Tom
(The Forty Days of Lent)

Prayer

Lord, hear my cry--hear me when I cry out to you!

When Erik was a baby we had one of those baby monitors. You know what they are, the unit in the child's room transmits to a hand held receiver, so you can hear when the baby wakes up. Sometimes we'd hear giggling and know he was alright. But many times he'd cry out. Then we'd run in and pick him up.

Of course he didn't know we could hear him.


We, on the other hand, know that God is listening. Not to a baby monitor. But to us--our prayers. We know that God hears us--whether we're happy and joyous and full of thanksgiving and praise for him. Or if we're in crisis, alone and afraid and crying out to him in anguish or confession. God hears our prayers.

One of the Lenten spiritual practices is prayer. You practice it when you pray in whatever form. Here's a thoought--as you drive to work tomorrow, make it a prayer journey. Pray for the person jogging, the kids on the bus, the people on the news you're listening to, the guy who cuts you off. hey might not hear you.

But God will.

Thanks be to you O God--for you hear my prayers! Amen



Happy Birthday Erik!!

Do Over (sermon Lent 1)

Lent 1A 02/10/08

Matt 4:1-11

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from God’s son, our Lord and Savior Jesus, the Christ.

How many of you here have ever played checkers? Just about all of you—great! Let me describe a checkers scenario and we’ll see if someone can name the strategy. Let’s say you’re playing your best friend—and he’s whupping you bad. In fact, it’s down to your last king versus his five kings.

So, your only option is to move around and around and around the board, hotly pursued by all five kings, until you finally end up trapped in that magic corner—you know the one I’m talking about—the one where there’s two spots you can safely be? And so you move to one, he moves to jump you, so you move back to the other, and he moves back to jump you, so you move back, and so on and so forth—back and forth, back and forth—with you just hoping he might get bored with the game and quit. (In which case you could claim forfeit!)

But in this scenario, as you move back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, it’s you who starts getting bored. And so you miss the fact that, instead of moving that threatening king this last time, he’s moved another king into striking position. And so when you move into what you believe to be your second safety position—BOOM—he jumps you!

Flabbergasted and flummoxed, you do the only thing possible in such a situation. You invoke the doctrine of _______? What? Take backs! You make a deal. “You let me take this move back, and I’ll let you take one back another time.” Depending on the largesse of your friend, the game either continues, or not.

Now, “taking it back” is similar to, but not the same as, another famous games doctrine—that being the “do over.” The “do over” plays out like this—and see if you can’t discern the subtle difference between it and take backs.

Imagine this time you’re playing wiffleball with the youth here at church. It’s the bottom of the ninth, score’s tied, your team is in the field, there’s two outs, bases are loaded, and up comes Zach Morshead. Your pitcher lets one fly and—BAM—Zach wails on it—ground ball right down the third base line.

But here’s where it gets interesting. Because the Morshead’s have brought along their dog, Ozzie, and Ozzie sees that ball a-rolling on by and can’t resist. He breaks loose, grabs the ball in his mouth, and hightails it—with you and your entire team running behind, trying to catch the little imp! In the meantime four runs score and the other team is already triumphantly making plans to go to Disneyland.

“That’s not fair,” you cry! “Yes it is,” they reply So an argument ensues back ad forth, back and forth—and eventually the only thing that keeps it from leading to a schism in the church is that all agree to a “do over.” Which effectively turns back the clock to just before the stated offense—all things as they were, except Ozzie is now tied to a lawn chair.

And therein lies the difference between the two. Take backs is a cognitive deal—the move is recalled, then made differently with guaranteed positive result. You know what you should have done, and take backs gives you the opportunity to do it right the second time. If your counterpart agrees!

In a do over the play is repeated in as close to its original form as possible—except that the stimulus that caused the problem is removed. So the outcome is open to all possibility again. Do over totally cancels out the prior play or move and provides a clean slate for a repeat.

Now, am I spending such an exorbitant amount of time on the concepts of take backs and do over because I want to make sure you can use them properly in your next checkers tournament or wiffleball game? No—you know that! It’s because I’d like to interpret God’s word for you this morning and those two concepts have a lot to do with the readings appointed for this day, believe it or not. Essentially what I’d like to propose to you is this: God does a “do over” so we can have “take backs.” Let’s look at that statement carefully…

First, God does a do over. A little Pauline theology will help explain that one, I believe. St. Paul writes in his letter to the Romans that “sin and death came into the world through one man.” That one man, he says, was Adam, who was tempted and just could not keep his hand out of the cookie jar. God trusted Adam and Eve, but they did not live up to expectations. Their disobedience opened the door to sin in the world, and its consequence—death.

But God won’t just let that lie. God’s going to do something about it. God calls for a do over, wipes the slate clean, resets the clock, and starts over. Except this time it won’t be Adam in the hot seat. Adam is Ozzie chasing the ball—the variable that is removed for the do over. And it is Jesus who takes his place.

Now, that’s a big gamble on God’s part, as the results are not guaranteed. It was unknown whether or not Jesus could withstand temptation. That’s a bit hard to grasp, but if the results were foreknown, it would not be a test. Jesus is really tempted—he faces sin as surely as did Adam, and in the gospel reading from Matthew, he faces symbolically, all the temptations that the people of God did in the wilderness. And the temptations did not stop when Jesus left the wilderness—they continue throughout his ministry

This is cleverly illustrated in the movie Jesus of Nazareth by the reappearance throughout the picture of the actor who played the devil in the temptation scene. When Peter rebukes Jesus for saying that he will be put to death—the devil stands nearby. When the crowd moves to make Jesus king, the devil is in the crowd. When the onlookers at the cross dare Jesus to come down and save himself, the devil whispers the same. Jesus is tempted by the devil continuously. And being fully human, Jesus is susceptible to it just as are you and I. So this “do over” is really very risky business.

But it proves successful. Jesus does not give in to temptation, but is obedient, even unto death. So, just as sin came into the world via one man, Adam, sin is escorted out by one man—Jesus Christ.

Now, why does God take such a risk? So we can have “take backs.” And again I’ll turn to St. Paul and Romans for the explanation. Writing to them about the seductive power of sin, Paul says that he knows what he should be doing as a follower of Christ, but instead he does the opposite. What he wants to do, he cannot do, and what he wishes most fervently not to do, is exactly what he does. He concludes with a lament, and the answer to his dilemma. “Oh wretched man that I am! Who will save me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

Sin and temptation pursue you. Like the paparazzi on Britney Spears. Like your friend’s five kings and your one. Sin and temptation bide their time until you slip up, and then you are theirs! And there’s no take backs to be negotiated with sin. Because thanks to Adam, we are predisposed to sin. Thanks to Adam, sin has got the upper hand.

But wait! The do over! Adam’s fall has been reversed, and sin no longer holds sway in the world. With Jesus, God has graciously given us a free gift, as Paul puts it. A free gift of a take back. We are forgiven and the sin that we don’t want to do but did anyway is cancelled out, and we have another chance at doing the good we want to do.

And, better still, we can call take backs again and again—it’s called repentance and confession. And it’s available to us, thanks to Jesus and the do over.

One more thing. And this has nothing to do with checkers or wiffleball, but much to do with take backs and do overs. We all experience sin directed against us at some point in our lives. We all encounter people who hurt us, either intentionally, or by mistake. Either way, it’s a struggle sometime to forgive. The temptation is to hold a grudge, or seek revenge or retribution. The way to follow Christ is to forgive (not just once or seven times, but seven times seventy said Jesus). That is something you do, independent of what they do—you can forgive even if the one who hurt you is unrepentant. And it’s like putting a heavy burden down. It can be such a relief!

Think now of someone in your life whom you have left unforgiven. Someone who hurt you. It may be painful to think about, but if you can do it, hold that person in your thoughts and lift them up to God. Say, “Father, forgive them.” Say it outloud if you can. Now comes the hard part, and I pray that God helps you. In your mind, call for a “take back” of your unforgiveness, and open your heart to the possibility of forgiving this person—think what it will mean and how it will feel.

Taking the next step—forgiving—is up to you. Maybe you’ll do it, maybe you can’t. I won’t presume that it’s something that can be done on the spur of the moment. But opening our hearts to those who have sinned against us I think, is part of what Lent is for. God does a do over, so we can have take backs—and give them to others. Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. AMEN

What I Am Doing for Lent

I'm not giving up pizza!

In fact I'm not giving up anything.


I'm adding something--a spiritual practice:

Kindness.

Not that I am usually unkind.

Just that I am unawares of the myriad opportunities for kindness each day.

Helping, listening, encouraging, giving, forgiving, there's so many ways to show kindness in small and large ways. It's a practice that can include many of the others.

So I think "kindness" is for me.

What about you?

Pastor Tom

CLiffhanger

Kids will wear you out. Kids will test your patience. You tell them what to do, and what not to do, and they’ll proceed to do what they want to do; to test the boundaries—checking the limits of your authority. They see the line, they acknowledge the line, they even operate within the confines of the line—up to a point. But then they’ll come right up to the very edge of that line, flirting with disaster and disobedience.

Part of this is simply a normal stretching of kids’ independence, their awkward way of spreading their wings and testing the wind currents before a solo flight. Some of it is calculated disobedience, done on purpose, a “you’re not the boss of me” kind of thing. Wickedness. But for the most part, it’s just kids having fun and running up against the borders of proscribed behavior. Kinda like sledding on a hillside that ends at a cliff. It’s fun to go closer and closer to the edge, but sooner or later you either gotta pull up or take a plunge into the abyss.

Lent is about pulling up.

Because, as human beings, we test the boundaries of our relationship with God. All the time. We dance dangerously close to the brink of the cliff and dare fate to push us over. Again for a variety of reasons. Some of us are just expressing our independence, our free will, as they say. A few are purposely defying God, crossing line after line in the sand, testing God’s reaction, daring God to forgive them.

But most of us here, I figure, fall into that third category. We are unaware of the danger we face. We figure, “A little slide won’t hurt anyone.” And so we head down off the mountaintop, just having fun, just taking it easy, just having some “me” time—gradually picking up speed, and getting closer and closer to that line God provided for our own safety, for our own good, we slide recklessly on until that cliff edge comes unexpectedly into view and races closer and closer and closer—the momentum of our journey down and the slipperiness of the slope combining to make the situation suddenly dire and life threatening. Without intent to sin, we find ourselves careening down a path towards it. Unawares.

And that is why God, who provided the boundaries in the first place—knowing full well that we, like children, would test them—also provides a season in which to step away from the abyss, to turn away from the line, to pull up and live. To return to him and start over once again.

Our first reading tonight describes that “pulling up” in ritualistic detail. Blow the trumpet in Zion, it says, blow it as a warning—you’re near the edge, step back! Return to the Lord, your God, who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Gather the children, grab grandpa and grandma, grieve for your broken relationship with God, weep with regret and relief at the same time. Then put down what you’re doing, leave behind what distracts and take along what focuses you in on God. Dedicate yourselves again to what is holy—and do it from deep in your hearts—not in some mechanical, external, rubber stamp sort of way. Be authentic in your repentance!

Authenticity. That is also what Jesus is getting at with all his talk of secrecy. Broadcasting your valiant acts of uber-repentance makes them just another sin, another vain attempt to justify oneself. Which can’t be done. So, you know what? Don’t do that! Repent humbly. Don’t roll in the ashes. Just mark your foreheads. Don’t try to outLent each other. It’s just plain vanity!

But, you know, I don’t think anyone here is really guilty of being like the hypocrites in Jesus’ lesson. We don’t trumpet our giving out so others will praise us. We don’t pray with grandiose gestures and eloquent words, trying to attract an adoring audience. And we don’t fast at all, unless we have to for blood work—and then don’t we let the entire world know that we haven’t had a bite for over eight whole hours! No, we’re not like those hypocrites.

We’re the other hypocrites. The hypocrites that call people hypocrites for garishly advertising their repentance, while not giving, not praying, and not fasting ourselves. Not in public, not in secret—not at all! And it may not be skipping those particular acts, it may be you avoid others. Like confession, like reading and studying the scriptures, like forgiving others, like any of the other spiritual disciplines.

We’ve been sliding. And the cliff awaits. The time for testing the limits has passed and we are now in danger. In danger of what, you ask? In danger of wasting time that could be spent in relationship with God. Wasting it pushing on the boundaries, sticking a toe over the line, trying to prove that we don’t really need God.

Kids will wear you out and test your patience, and unfortunately, sometimes kids and parents have such a hard time negotiating the boundaries that it becomes the sum total of their relationship. A broken relationship that often remains so for many years, until they can let go of their anger and reconcile. And then what do they invariably say? “Think of the time we wasted being at odds with one another. Think of what we could have done with that time together!”

In the same way, we need to pull up, and take a hard look at how we relate to God. Do we relate to God as creator, or rulemaker? Because the one who puts limits on our lives, also freely gives us unlimited life. Do we relate to God as loving Father, or strict disciplinarian? Because the one who draws the line beyond which we may not pass, is the same one who waits beyond that line with open arms. We need not waste another second apart from God—for even in our sins, now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation!

As this season of the church year begins therefore, let us take time to do the work of Lent. Stopping, reflecting, and changing direction. Stepping back from the line, the cliff, the boundary, to renew our relationship with our heavenly Father, who in Christ Jesus has reconciled us to himself. AMEN

Dust

Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.


With those words, Lent commences. From the earth God created humankind, and that is where we all end up--six feet under, slowly returning to our original materials. Hearing that announced to you makes you aware that you are not immortal. Quite the opposite--our time here is short, So how do you want to spend it? Loving and being loved by God? Or struggling against God's warm embrace? Hopefully that's a no-brainer.

Being reminded of our ending is also a reminder of our new beginning in Christ. Life to death to life. Tacit in the pronouncement of your mortality is the proclamation of the good news waiting for you beyond this life--a promise so certain it pours up over the lip of the future and splashes down into the present! Infusing it with a beauty and worthiness that it didn't have before. Dust, yes--but we are God's dust!

Tonight, as you come forward for an ashen cross upon your forehead, let it be a reminder to you of things fleeting--and things that are forever more!

Please visit each day during Lent for reflections, sermons, poetry, guest writers, and pictures.

Lent Just Two Days Away

Lent is right around the corner---how will you keep it this year? What spiritual practice will you adopt? What devotional series will you follow? [Note--The Pantry will offer a reflection each day during Lent, including guest bloggers.] What will you do to return to the Lord your God?

You can, of course, follow along with our Lenten midweek theme and try out five different ways of exercising your spiritual muscles. They are contemplation, hospitality, fasting, care of creation, and worship. Each Monday there will be on the blog a brief description of the practice and an exercise for you to try during the week. Plus there will be an exercise each Wednesday evening during worship.

Here's another way to keep Lent, courtesy of Bill P., who came across it on the ELCA website--it's a Lenten devotional geared to "green" issues. You subscribe and it is sent daily to your email box. Find the program at www.elca.org/advocacy - scroll down to Living Earth and click on it. Thanks Bill, for the tip!

More on Lent tomorrow!
Pastor

Groundhog's Day

February Freebie

“And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” --Luke 12:25

I was at Camp Calumet these past few days (hence the lack of posts!), and this passage from Luke was used in our closing communion service. The preacher’s main point was that everyday is a gift from God, graciously given, and that in every day we can find that grace and experience that gift—if we take time to let it be.

Worrying may not add time to your life, but the gift of time—leap year—can, and does this year. You’ve got a whole extra 29^th of February to enjoy. Time for family, reading, skiing, or what have you. And lest you tell me that you’re already booked for the 29^th—let me tell you the preacher’s advice: pick any day in February! Make it Sabbath time for you—praise God for it, revel in the glory of God given down-time. Do nothing if you feel like it! It’s okay. Everything else will wait till tomorrow.

As for me—I’m taking advantage of the offer. How bout you?

Vote in sidebar how you may spend your leap day.

Pastor