The Pastor's Pantry

Living Together: Part One--Finishing each other's sentences

2011-04-29T11:37:00.000-04:00

Living Together:
Finishing each other’s sentences

One (just one!) of the annoying things about Parkinson’s is that everything slows down and gets clumsy. For instance, just buttoning my shirt takes, well…more time than it used to. The left sleeve and neck are almost impossible sometimes. Lots of other simple and more complicated tasks, like cutting up food, typing, and writing, are now more difficult for me and take such a length of time that I tend to avoid them when I can. Speaking is sometimes challenging, as sentences get tangled and the words I’m looking for evade me.

The temptation for family members and others is to jump in there and help. Seeing the annoyance on my face, it seems that the most kind thing to do is to button that button, slice that steak, feign understanding and/or supply the missing thought or word. Makes sense. It helps me. It satisfies the compelling need to assist compassionately. And, let’s face it, it saves time and that “embarrassed for you” feeling. In a subtextual way, help is more often offered to meet our own agenda—a product of our emotional response to disabilities interacting with a lack information about them.

Strange, because “finishing each other’s sentences” is most often seen as a symbol of a deep simpatico. And yet, truth be told, when we do that it’s more indicative of our impatience and desire to dominate the conversation than of a loving, caring mind meld. So, one needs to be aware of from where the need to jump in comes. And if it comes from our needs and not theirs, we should rethink our intervention.

Check back at the pantry for part two of this topic…

Slow and Unsteady Wins Something (if not the race).

2011-03-31T17:14:00.003-04:00

The annoying thing about Parkinson's Disease (as if there were only one annoying thing)is that it slows you down. Getting dressed, tying a shoe, eating a steak, walking to the mailbox, typing this post - all take me an interminable length of time. But I want to go fast! Everything else around me (you included) is going at a breakneck speed. It frustrates that I am left in your dust sometimes. Not to blame you--you're only doing what I want to.

But, coordination is off and fine motor skills dulled and repetitive tasks devolve the longer one tries to keep them going. PD is a motion disease after all--I guess slowing motion is the least of what could be now, and eventually may well be later on.

What good can be drawn from this PD millstone around my neck, slowing me down? Looking on the real thin positive side, it could work out that as I slow down physically and mentally, and hopefully adapt to it, and live into my lightning-less-ness mode,I will model ways for you to consciously slow down and see and hear the things you don't at warp 3. I would like to show you the "back roads" you could take instead of always zipping along on the interstate. To be slow with your family. To put on the brakes at work and see it as a vocation that you can enjoy. To let God slowly fill you and your spirit over time--like a fine wine.

You won't win any races like this, but it's something. Now if you'll excuse me--I'm going to watch the snow melt for awhile!

A Balancing Act

2011-03-15T19:09:00.000-04:00

The title of this post is a bit ironic. What I will be talking about today is the equilibrium that I need to seek between being independent and dependent. That's the "balancing act."

But with Parkinson's, just moving about is an act requiring concentration and adaptation--because it effects your sense of balance. I don't know how--it just does. And it's beginning to effect me a little bit. Not so much that you'd notice--yet. I just have to be a little more cognizant of where my feet are in relativity to my torso!

Back to the premise--the balancing act. After a while living with a challenge like PD, I find it easier, though embarrassing sometimes, to get help or not do something at all. But I really want to adapt and do it myself--I know that's what I want and what's a better response to the PD's move. Lately however, I've been experiencing a twinge (emotional, not physical)when I subconsciously expect the help or to be excused from something I find troublesome to do. Am I starting to feel entitled to special treatment? Cause I don't want that!

Can you see how this is a balance issue? I can see how our relationship will go out of kilter if I feel that way and you let me. But I can see me on the light end of the relationship scale if you or I try to ignore the situation and not support each other (which is what we're supposed to be doing anyhow).

Maintaining a good balance is one way we can live together with eyes and hearts wide open. Open to what is...and what is possible for us together!

Vacating the Premises

2011-02-28T10:50:00.002-05:00

The preparations for my upcoming vacation have been multitudinous. First we did research, then shopped for good prices, then worked out the dates--including getting a supply preacher to cover me for the Sundays I'll be gone. And that was just the reservation! The next phase was getting what we needed for the trip. New suitcase, some clothing, reading material, and plenty of this and that! Then, I always insist we leave a clean home so we don't came back to jobs to do. So a trip to the dump, some vacuuming, and straightening up. Of course life goes on around our vacation, so we need to prepay some bills, stop the mail, and give the plants a good watering. So much to do to get ready to do nothing!

But it's all worth it when you're finally ON vacation. (right?)

In the movie "What About Bob?" Bill Murray plays Bob, a neurotic man who depends too heavily on his new therapist, played by Richard Dreyfuss. The therapist, who is leaving that day for his vacation home in New Hampshire, recommends that Bob "take a vacation from his problems." Trite, and it doesn't work out the way the therapist envisioned--Bob shows up at his vacation home and with the help of the doctor's family, Bob experiences self-discovery and healing. While the therapist goes off the deep end!

I plan on taking a vacation from my problem (parkinson's) while on my vacation. It will take some preparation too. Handing it over to God to bear for a while. Setting up medications ahead of time, so dispensing them is easier. Packing clothing that's easy to put on (no buttons). And depending on my more gregarious wife to lead me into activities that enable self-dicovery, making new friends, and are just plain fun.

I'm not denying my condition. I'm just going to vacate that place where it's a constant anxiety. It'll be there when I get back. Today is enough for me for a while. The gospel I won't be preaching on this Sunday says, don't worry--instead seek the kingdom of God. So that's what I'll do this vacation in a vacation. That, and eat pizza.

I'll send you a postcard from the kingdom!

What can you say to someone with Parkinson's?

2011-02-22T19:49:00.000-05:00

You don't really have to say anything out of the ordinary.

You might offer some help if they're struggling with a coat or a serving dish.
You might ask, "How is it for you today?" If you really want to know.
You might tell them they're in your prayers. Better yet you could offer one!

But there's no good thing to say to make them feel better, and it's not your obligation to try. Just being there speaks loudly enough.

About the most candid and truthful reaction to finding out I had PD came from a fellow preacher in Maine. He said some hopeful words, but summed it up with, "It stinks to be you." That rang true for me. Although sometimes it doesn't.

What can I, a PD person, say to you. I can reveal it to you. I can say, "Sorry for the shaking arm--I have PD. Not an excuse, not an identity. But a fact about me. People may be uncomfortable hearing it (and not know what to say!), but they're going to have to deal with my PD too, so it's only fair that they know about it.

One thing we can both say: God be with us as we deal with illness.

What is this Parkinson's Disease?

2011-02-18T15:17:00.000-05:00

So, I have Parkinson's Disease. I know what that means, but perhaps you don't. At this point you could google Parkinson's Disease, or you can get the condensed version from me.

Parkinson's Disease (henceforth PD) is a neurological condition in which the section of the brain that produces dopamine "dies' and stops doing that. Unfortunately, your body needs dopamine for balance and repetitive movement and for movement in general. Speech is also affected as is coordination and small motor tasks. PD progresses relentlessly, but at a different pace with each person. There is no cure, but it is not fatal--although it causes complications that can be. Many of the symptoms are controllable with medication--to an extent. It's complicated and involves esoteric things like titration and agonists and L-dopa. People do live with PD, not comfortably, but fully--and depending upon health--for decades after initial diagnosis.

So how is PD effecting me right now? Stiffness, especially in the neck, tremor in my right hand along with lack of fine motor function there, a bit of balance trouble, my typing has gone from "hunt and peck" to Hunt and peck, backspace, correct, backspace correct for real, hunt and peck. My guitar playing is off. There is a lack of expression in my face, which combined with the natural tendency to hide ones' infirmities, makes me seem aloof or unapproachable (I am neither). My voice has become softer and more monotone--I have to concentrate on being expressive in the pulpit. My ability to chitchat and converse extemporaneously has been compromised.

I have been able to cope and adapt so far. Medicines are helping curb the symptoms. Research is promising. I have good health insurance. I am blessed (can you believe it?).

Your encouragement in the form of loving feedback and suggestions is encouraged. I may ask some or all of you to help me by doing some ministry differently. I will constantly monitor how PD is effecting our relationship as Pastor and People, and I think we may even grow stronger because of the uniqueness of that relationship, and the lessons we learn that will also apply to other areas of life. Plus God's spirit is always aloft, and waiting to blow the fresh air of grace into the stagnant smog of affliction--we should keep an eye out.

That's it in a very small nutshell. Until next time...

"If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me...' ...even the darkness is not dark for you, the night is as bright as the day..." --Psalm 130:11-12

Change is Slow

2011-02-09T21:04:00.000-05:00

Doesn't seem like it, but it's true. Especially with things you want to get right the first time.

This blog is changing because I have been changed. As much as I didn't want to believe it. As much as I denied it. As much as I struggled against it. I have been changed.

I have Parkinson's Disease.

That changes everything. Even the people around me.

And that is what I'm going to talk about in this venue. How things change, how people change, how a congregation changes - when we all are living life with PD. And how God blesses that change.

I invite you to read and comment, as you are part of the story. Sometimes this will be a funny blog, sometimes sad or angry. Sometimes it won't seem to be about PD at all. But always it will be real. And the reality is I have Parkinson's. But, in the words of another guy with PD, "It hasn't got me."

This is the day that God has made. Let's rejoice and be glad in it!

Bare No More

2011-02-08T19:11:00.003-05:00

Old Mother Hubbard went to her cupboard to fetch her poor dog a bone.
But when she got there, the cupboard was bare. And so her poor doggie had none.

Pastor Tom went to his Pantry to write another blog for his followers
But as 2009 went away, he found there was nothing more to say
and so the people had none. (except for his sermons on www.messiahnh.org)

Well the pantry is bare no more.

I have a new focus for Pastor's Pantry that will interest you, I hope. It's faith based, but will include a bunch of topics from everyday life. It won't always be earth shattering or particularly profound, but I hope you will see yourself in the posts, and glean something from most of them.

I'll introduce the new focus tomorrow, Feb. 9th

Blogging again

2011-02-07T20:17:00.001-05:00

starting 2.8.2011, the Pantry returns

Advent is hope

2009-12-03T11:52:00.001-05:00

Hope

Advent is hope. (I know, because it says so on that big sign down in front of Messiah House.) Advent is hope—at least for the first week, anyway.

But what do we mean by that? What do we mean when we say “Advent is hope”? Is hope a noun? Or a verb? For that matter what is hope? Anyone care to give a one word definition?

Is hope expectation? Hmm? Well, when I flip a light switch, I have an expectation that the lights will come on. And for the most part, they do. Unless there’s an ice storm, or three daughters using hairdryers all on the same circuit. But even so—we don’t think to ourselves, “I hope the lights come on when I flip this switch. So hope and expectation are two separate things.

Okay then, is hope desire? I hope that Lisa makes a cheesecake for my final dessert of the month. That’s closer to the idea. But a passionate desire for something is not hope—it’s want. Longing.

What about faith, then? Are faith and hope equivalent? We get a little clue from this bible passage—“Faith is being sure of what we hope for.” (It’s in there – 1st Corinthalonians or something!) Faith is ardent belief, hope is somewhat different. Hope is somehow unsure. There seems to be an element of “maybe yes and maybe no’ to hope. You don’t hope for the stars to shine at night—they will. However you may hope that the skies be clear so you can see them. Maybe yes, maybe no.

Perhaps if we thought about hope as it relates specifically to Advent. Most of us think of Advent as a prelude to Christmas. So the hope we feel might be compared to the anticipation of a soon-to-be-born child. We hope the baby is born healthy. Which is almost like a prayer. And we have high hopes for the newborn. Her whole life streams out from this point, all is potential.

There’s also that Second Coming thing during Advent too. When the early church translated the scriptures into Latin from the Greek, the word they used to translate parousia, or end times, was indeed adventus. So Advent is not mainly about the coming of a child. It’s about the coming of the Son of Man on the clouds, to judge the quick and the dead, and to transform and recreate both heaven and earth. Hope in this situation includes some shaking in your boots as you hope that you won’t be cast off into a lake of fire, pit of doom, or some equally gruesome existence. We hope that the one we have placed our trust in, Jesus, will indeed come through for us.

That’s really hoping against hope. Like Noah, like Abraham and Sarah, like Ruth and Job, like Peter and Paul, like Dorcus and Lydia, like all those psalmists! If, in spite of every fiber of your being screaming, “Impossible. Ill-conceived! Incomprehensible,” in direct contradiction with your reason and logic, and going against everything you know to the contrary—you still can imagine that hoped-for outcome, and still hold fast to its possibility—then you are hoping against hope.
And we hope against hope at Advent. We make ourselves ready for Christ’s coming. Though there’s a little part of us that’s unsure if that’s possible. We celebrate the gift of the savior, Jesus, child of Bethlehem. Though somewhere deep inside we doubt that the gift is truly for us. That tension, the tension between belief and doubt, worthiness and unworthiness, possibility and dead end, is hope.

Hope is a tug of war. Except the object is not to pull the opposing team into the mud. It’s to keep each side dry and clean. We need the yes and the no the faith and the doubt in order to hope. Take away either team and you don’t have hope—you just got fear or vanity. A bunch of people holding a rope for no good reason.

Advent is hope. We hope in God’s grace. But rightly speaking, we are given hope at Advent. We are shown the vision of a new world, streaming out from the wrinkly little arms of the incarnate God—Jesus—who is the origin of that re-creation. We are made new ourselves—a down payment on the resurrected life we have been promised that we will share with Jesus. Someday.

Until then, we hope in the hope. The hope that is advent.

What do you hope for this advent season?

My Book

2009-09-22T13:54:00.002-04:00

The Rally Day program comes from the ELCA website and it's called "My word." My word is God's word--the bible.

One thing I added was a word search (heh heh) in which participants had to locate thirteen signs that have WORD printed on one side and a bible verse on the back. The kids flip it up to read the scripture and copy down the highlighted word in the verse. When they have all the words , they unscramble them to find a motto for the day. (Can' t tell you what it is!)

There's also a relay race, making the "shema" and binding it on the hands, and making a bible story chain. And there's even more than that.

But another time for that.

Reunion

2009-09-17T20:09:00.002-04:00

I feel as if I need to reactivate the blog, so this is our reunion. I won't post any sermons here--they will be on the web page (www.messiahnh.org) and I won't double post to the website from here. Hope someone reads it!

Pastor Tom

Happy Thanks-sharing

2008-11-28T16:21:00.004-05:00

The eyes of all look to you Father, and you give them their food in dues season. You open your mighty hand and the world is fed!

I ate too much yesterday. I am blessed to have more than I need. Yesterday many people died of hunger. They are blessed by God as well. I am to be his hand, and feed the world. Join me in making a contribution to World Hunger this Sunday!

Prayer concern - those who hunger, those who can share.

Lord God, you give the world enough to feed everyone. But our ways disrupt that giving. Help we who have more than enough to share freely with those who don't. For we are all blessed by you, Lord, God of all. Amen

Our Father...

May the God of abundance bless you and your work for the kingdom. Amen

Over the river, and through the woods

2008-11-26T10:27:00.002-05:00

For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. Psalm 91.11

Today is the biggest travel day of the year. As families and relatives and friends get together for a meal and the requisite activities. So today's prayer concern is travelers.

Dear God, you travel with us as we go this day. Keep us safe and bring us to our destination with as little traffic as possible! We thank you for your loving care and concern for all who travel this day. Amen

Our Father,...

Holy God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, bless you now and protect you till we meet again!

2008-11-25T14:44:00.002-05:00

Come and see what God has done: he is awesome in his deeds among mortals. Psalm 66.5

One of the things people do during the thanksgiving time, is to count their blessings. Sometimes that is hard to do--when things all seem to go wrong at the same time! But we have life, we have each other, and we have God's love--that's start, and I think you could add much more even in the worst of times. And if this is the best of times--then don't just count your blessings--share them. Because we are a community of believers, and sometimes you help, and sometimes you're helped.

Prayer concern - those in financial straights

God, before you we are all needy. Help us to live together and share resources, so that all may have enough. Guide us in our finances, that we maintain the lives you gave us, and that we might give you glory by our use of wealth.

Our father....

May God look upon you with a smile, rub your hair, and pat your head--all in love for you!

For the beauty...

2008-11-24T09:21:00.003-05:00

The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19.1

Every once in a while we're treated to a beautiful sunset. There is perhaps nothing so marvelous! Sunrises are wonderful too--but unfortunately they occur when my eyes are still closed, for the most part. The stars on a good dark night are also awe inspiring. All these reveal the majesty of our God, who made heaven and earth.

Our prayer is one of thanksgiving today (and will be all week). We thank God for the beauty of creation!

Lord God, you created me and all there is, and you deemed it all "good." Thank you for the beauty of the earth, sea, and skies. And awaken us to their preservation and restoration. Amen

Our Father....

May the God who created everything from the chaos, order your life in Christ Jesus.

Process

2008-11-21T08:41:00.002-05:00

O Lord, you have searched me and known me... Psalm 139.1a

We are in the process of focusing our mission here at Messiah, using a consultant to interview members and discern from the consensus where we should head, what we should shed, and what we should add to make our witness here all that it can be. Of course God knows us and his plan for us. So today's prayer concern is that we each might discern God's path for us.

O Lord, you know us and love us. Show us the way to follow in following you. Amen

Our father..

May God bless you with purpose and grace this day!

Riding the Wave

2008-11-20T10:20:00.002-05:00

I will sing of your steadfast love, O Lord, forever;
with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations. Psalm 89.1

Today we're starting a process that will lead to a capital appeal. Doing so is risky in the current economic climate--in which the Dow ebbs and flows is wild, unnerving bursts. Can we trust the market to recover? Maybe--it has before. But one thing we can definitely count on is God's love--it neither waxes nor wanes, but is constant in our lives. Putting our trust in one so faithful makes the thought of a campaign less worrisome.

Prayer concern - those who are most deeply effected by the financial crisis

Lord God, help us to see things as things, and relationships, especially with you, as the real treasure! Amen

Our Father, who art in heaven

God's blessings on you this day!

Guests

2008-11-19T09:12:00.002-05:00

Therefore let all who are faithful offer prayer to you... Psalm 32.6a

Our prayer concern today - those who are guests--in our homes and in our churches. Today we have a community group using our facility for a special presentation. We welcome them and hold them in prayer!

Welcoming God, to you no one is a stranger--you call all to your kingdom. Help us treat our visitors and guests with love and compassion, and seek to share with them the greatest gift--the gospel. Amen

Lord's prayer: Our Father in heaven...

Now may God bless us and all those who come through our door with peace, mercy and love.

Tuesday 27th Pentecost

2008-11-18T09:30:00.002-05:00

Sing to the Lord a new song... (Psalm 149.1)

Our prayer concern for today is Youth Encounter's international relational ministry team band Watermark. They have been visiting with us for the past two days, and performed for us Sunday evening. For more info, google Youth Encounter.

Lord God, you created us able to express ourselves in music. Bless the ministry of Watermark, and watch over them as they travel. In Jesus' name, amen

Our Father in heaven....

May God bless you today and keep you as the apple of his eye!

A New Beginning

2008-11-12T10:18:00.002-05:00

The Pantry is changing its stock.

Instead of devotionals and ruminations, for a time I will be doing "Daily Prayer." This will include a prayer concern for each day and some info on the concern if appropriate. Your prayer requests are also welcome. The new format will be:

Psalm quote
Prayer concern and links
Prayer
Lord's Prayer
Blessing

It is hoped that you might visit the blog each day as a prayer discipline, or to supplement your prayer life and knowledge of the needs around you. The first "Daily Prayer" will appear next week. Sermons will no longer be posted here--please visit www.messiahnh.org to find them.

Pastor Tom

5 Out of 10 Bridesmaids Recommend You Pre-buy Your Oil

2008-11-10T11:15:00.000-05:00

The price of a barrel of crude oil on the commodities market topped out in late July at over $140 a barrel. Heating oil and gasoline prices jumped up in response to this surge, striking fiduciary fear in the hearts and pocketbooks of homeowners, school districts, towns, churches, and businesses throughout the country.

Many tried to lock in a price—ridiculously high as it might be, for fear that it would go even higher sill. Others sought relief by applying for government assistance and winterization programs. A lot of fuel companies—including some of the larger ones—halted their “pre-buy” programs because there was just too much volatility in the market. They couldn’t be sure that what they sold in oil at one day’s price, might not be radically more expensive when they went to purchase it the next. Indeed, the prices fluctuated for the better part of a year, trending up—always up. There was even a record-breaking spike of $16 in one day! Surely there was depression in the people’s hearts, if not on the lips of the economists.

And then, a funny thing happened—well, not funny ha-ha, but funny strange—a funny, strange, unusual thing happened. The sleeping giant that is the American people woke up to find that their oil was “suddenly” in short supply! And they freaked out! First they all wanted hybrid cars, leaving the car makers awash in SUVs and trucks. Then they cut way back on the miles they drove those cars. Plus, at home, furnaces didn’t get turned on until one had to deice before shaving in the morning. Lights got turned off when kids left the room, amazingly. Towns and cities hunkered down and made plans for draconian budget cuts. And everyone cut back on their spending all at once.

In short, people started doing what they should have been doing all along. Because they knew this day was coming. Some day. They knew that they had enjoyed using a disproportionate amount of the world’s oil, cheaply, for some time now. And they knew that rising industrial countries like India and China were poised to swallow huge amounts of the world’s oil to satisfy the arid thirst of their rapidly Westernizing economies. Americans knew this day was coming. A day of reckoning. A day of judgment on their country’s consuming dependence on the bubbling crude—black gold, Texas tea, oil that is. That day, it seemed, was here. The operative question being—“Was it too late?”

Five out of ten bridesmaids recommend you pre-buy your oil, according to Jesus, who, by the way, is an excellent reference. Five of the ten waiting for the bridegroom to come and grab his newly-wed wife and lead the whole village to the banquet hall—their path lit by the light of the bridesmaids’ lamps. (Big wedding party, that is.) Five of the ten pre-bought extra oil for their lamps, as a precaution, just in case the groom was delayed. The other five took their lamps with no extra oil, possibly thinking optimistically that all would be well—no need to plan for the worst.

But of course, the worst does happen. The bridegroom doesn’t show at the appointed time, and after several hours of waiting the bridesmaids grow tired and go off to bed, turning their lamps down low, but ready to fire them up as soon as the watchmen signal the groom’s approach!

Which they do, just after midnight—with loud shouting and boisterous carrying on in general. The ten snap suddenly awake, and the five who were prepared fill their lamps and head for the door. But there they are stopped by the five fellow bridesmaids, who trusting in today, neglected to plan for tomorrow. Their lamps are empty—they need oil, and they know the others have some. But five out of ten recommended they pre-buy their oil, so, oh so sorry! Yeah, there’s none for you. If we are to light the way as expected, we’ll need all we’ve got.

And you know how it ends. The foolish five head down to see Gomer at the filling station. Then they run back—only to find the door closed and the bouncer telling them they’re not on “the list.” Bummer!

Moral of the story? Is it kinda like that of the story of the Ant and the Grasshopper? The ant labors hard all summer collecting food for the future hard times. The grasshopper plays his fiddle and dances away the warm months. Then, when winter breathes icily on his poor, hungry bod, old grasshopper looks for a handout from his “buddy,” the ant. Who basically tells him to take a flying leap. Moral: those who work hard and plan for the future make out. Those who goof off and live in the moment come to a bad end.

That certainly seems to be the moral of Jesus’ parable—at least it is when you approach it looking for some sort of righteous and just teaching. Which you could do I suppose. The five wise ones are rewarded for their foresight, the five fools lose out and have no one to blame but themselves. Case closed!

But, uh-oh—here’s a little problem. If this is a morality story, whose protagonists we are to emulate, then the lesson learned is to pre-buy your oil and don’t share it—because there’s only enough for you—even if it means your five frivolous friends sit out eternity a door’s width away from the great Messianic banquet. You don’t care—because you got yours. You earned it by being proactive, shrewd, wise and ambitious, Machiavellian even!

Sound good? No, that sounds a little “un-Jesus-like.” A lot, really. So I suppose we’ll have to shelve the ant’s story (snatch the grasshopper from my hand). And return to this parable with different eyes.

Well, what eyes are we to use in interpreting this parable and discovering its application in our lives? Simple. We need to use eyes that see beyond the horizon, eyes that view this parable, not as a morality tale, but as an example, an illustration, a page from “Jesus for Dummies,” if you will. Have you ever seen the television show “Numbers?” It’s a crime drama in which Don Epps is a FBI agent, who, in solving cases, uses the expertise of his genius mathematician brother, Charlie. This brilliant, but esoteric, professor uses highly complicated math formulas and hypotheses and theories to crack the case—filling up several chalk boards in the process. And there’s always a scene in which Charlie tells the assembled agents something like, “I used Deverough’s constant of refracted light in conjunction with the post-function of newton’s game theory to determine where the bomber will strike next.” Blank faces all around. So then he says, “It’s like this: imagine a dog chasing his tail. He always ends up facing in one direction.” And they all nod excitedly, understanding at last.

Same with Jesus’ teaching. Not the bit about the dog—but the complexity of the concept he’s trying to relay to the disciples. He was going to be arrested, humiliated, beaten, crucified, and buried. BUT, he was going to be raised from the dead, then ascend to the Father. AND, (and this is what he’s talking about with his parable) AND on the day of the Lord, he would return. So be ready.

Blank faces.

So he simplifies it for them with a story. A story that’s not meant to be taken literally, or analogically, or even metaphorically. It’s a story that’s meant to convey the raw materials of understanding. Which in this case is very simply, “be ready.” The story is about five who were ready, and five who were not. And that’s it. Oh, there is the shocking part where the five smarties refuse to share with their grasshopper-y friends. But that is not instructional—it’s only meant to heighten the message of readiness. (Being ready is important—How important?—Well, imagine a bridesmaid doing this…)

So, be ready. That’s what this parable says. Be ready for Jesus.. And it is a good reminder of that part of our faith. The part that comes after:

Christ has died.

Christ is risen.

Christ will come again!

We don’t emphasize that last one too much. We don’t live on the edge of the ages as the early church did. We don’t expect judgment day anytime soon—it’s not in the ol’ PDA. We don’t look for Jesus coming on the clouds, ushering in the long awaited reign of God—the new heaven and earth, the peaceable kingdom. We just don’t think of it often, despite the fact that we recite it weekly in the creed. Yes, we focus on it briefly during Advent (which by the way begins in three weeks!). But the rest of the church year, it’s mainly “Christ has died, Christ is risen,” and that’s it.

So what are we to do? How best to put this gospel reading into practice? If five out of ten bridesmaids recommend you pre-buy your oil, what does that look like? What does it mean to be ready, to keep awake, as Jesus puts it?

Well, imagine this…a country dependant on oil begins to run out. Waking up to that vision of the future, the people do something – they act as they always should have, knowing that the day was coming. They become good stewards. They become innovative. They become proactive. They become willing to see things differently from the way they always have been. They become ready.

Just as much as this parable reminds us the Christ will come again, it also suggests a way to be—while we are between the ages. We act as we would act if Jesus were already here. That’s being ready! So…

We love one another, and our neighbors—even our enemies.

We live unselfishly, caring the most for the least.

We are good stewards with what God has first given us, using these gifts to sustain the church’s mission and help those in need.

We work towards justice and righteousness because we know it pleases God.

We realize that being ready is hard work, that we will tire of it and slack off, just as when the price of oil dropped back down to $60 a barrel, some of us got the old Escalade out of mothballs, and began to forget that fossil fuels are still foreseeably finite. We are human after all.

So we accept the fact that despite our best efforts we can never be sinless and ready for judgment, but that God washes away our sin and opens the doors of heaven to us, thanks to the love of Christ Jesus.

And that’s what we’re to be ready for. So wake up Messiah Lutheran Church! Wake up! Wake up and live life ready! AMEN

explain

2008-10-28T21:22:00.001-04:00

I'm on vacation in Florida for a week, and changes are in store for the pantry when I return!

Death and Taxes (sermon)

2008-10-21T13:55:00.001-04:00

>Do you like to be scared? Do you like to be “jump three feet off the ground and scream like a girl” scared? Do startling noises, people popping out from behind a tree, ghost stories, amusement park rides, skydiving—take your pick—do they get the old adrenaline flowing and make you feel alive? Do you like to be scared?

The youth group was having a discussion on Facebook this past week about the possibility of going to Nightmare New England—which I take is a scary place, right? The talk centered around the cost and the timing. Someone inferred that it was too pricey, and that money better be used for the New Orleans trip. That received little attention from the kids. Then someone suggested they go Sunday evening--tonight..

At which point I chimed in and reminded them about confirmation class that evening. (Major buzz kill.) To which a certain youth leader who shall remain nameless (Tall Guy), posted his response—a comment on the idea of saving the money which ended up with “Besides confirmation might just be scarier than Nightmare New England!”

Some scary things can also be fun. Like Nightmare New England, roller coasters, horror movies, and confirmation. But there are other scary things that aren’t any fun at all. They’re just scary. Things like cancer. Scary. I remember when I was diagnosed with cancer almost twenty years ago. I almost passed out. Horrifying. Parenthood—that’s scary stuff. To think that every decision you make has the potential of an adverse if not catastrophic effect on your child. Bone chilling! And how about waiting up for your teenager to get home with the car—those are scary thoughts that run through your head.

Since September 11^th we have a communal fear: terrorism—an always just below the surface anxiety that’s periodically summoned up by the media or politicians to scare us some more. The senselessness of it and it’s random cold-heartedness makes terrorism a frightening thing indeed.

But nothing—not the avian flu, nor triple E, nor tainted tomatoes, lead laden toys, or melamined milk—nothing puts fear in our good old American consumer hearts like the happenings on Wall Street these past two weeks. Talk about your roller coasters. The Dow was going up and down so sharply you could loose an eye just looking at the graph.

Couple that with a still-depressed housing market, a mortgage foreclosure meltdown, several of the world’s biggest and most trusted financial corporations failing and having to be bailed out by the fed—and couple all that with a rise in food and oil prices, plus a $700 billion stimulus package, dwarfed only by the 1 trillion $ national debt and the estimated $2 trillion loss in value of 401ks—Take into consideration all of that, squeeze all that into your head, then add a 24 hour a day news cycle that is constantly stirring the pot and adding any ingredient that will keep glassy-eyed viewers tuned in—no matter how outrageous or inflammatory, and you have a scary situation indeed. Monster in the closet scary, boogie man scary, flying monkeys scary!

And yet, no one—no one—not the Federal government, or the news media, or the political candidates, not even Joe Sixpack or Joe the Plumber—no one—no one dares use the dreaded “R” word. They’ll go right up to the line in their commentary and proposals, but they won’t say that R word. You know the word I’m talking about, right? What is it? (recession) Oh no, not that r word. This one: repentance.

Repentance. Literally it means turning around 180 degrees. Figuratively it means to change one’s mind, to forsake a direction you’ve headed in that has proved false or dangerous, to set your face in a new and sure direction. Repentance is most associated with sin and forgiveness—it being the cessation of sin and the catalyst that results in a spiritual reaction of forgiveness.

In the financial scenario previously described one could quite easily jump on the fundamentalist bandwagon and think that God is punishing us for something—greed, gluttony, usury, or right to life or gay marriage, or some equally non-tangential causality. And that if we only repented and returned to being a Godly nation like we were in the good old days, then everything would be coming up roses once again. The Dow would rise from the dead and AIG could go on that fancy retreat—heck we all could! There fixed—easy as apple pie. Ha! If only it were that clear cut, that black and white, that ultimately controllable by our actions.

Cause it’s not. It’s scarier because it’s not an easy fix. But neither is it God punishing us, despite what Yahweh seems to say in the first reading—“I am the Lord and there is no other, I form light and create darkness, I make weal and create woe; I the Lord do all these things.” True nothing happens in all of creation without God’s hand in it somehow. But the idea that God punishes us on such a grand scale is very scary indeed. For that would implicate God in the wanton destruction of innocent human life. That’s not the God personified in Jesus Christ. That’s not the God that we call Father. That’s not the God we have in our very being through the indwelling of the holy Spirit.

I prefer to believe that God lets us punish ourselves. With the consequences of our actions. We don’t share the bounty of the earth equitably, and so people starve to death. We spew pollutants into the air for a half a millennium, and so the global climate changes. Or…or, or we lose touch with reality when it comes to money, and so the house of cards collapses, and we are convulsed with fear and doom. What do I mean by losing touch with reality when it comes to money?

The Pharisees tried to entrap Jesus by asking him if it was lawful to pay tax to the Emperor. If he answered “no” they’d have him arrested as a tax evader and general rabble rouser. If “yes” than he’d be about as popular with the crowds as a guy wearing a Rays shirt in Fanneuil Hall.

But Jesus isn’t falling for their con game. He asks for a coin of the realm. And they instantly produce one (even though foreign currency is not allowed in the temple, not to mention the graven image of a false god, Caesar, stamped on it!) He asks them, “Whose picture is on it.” “The emperor’s,” they answer. And then Jesus zings them. “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” OOOO!

But wait a minute here—wait just a second here. Did Jesus just say the emperor and God are two mutually exclusive entities in this equation? That there are some things that belong just to Caesar, and the rest is God’s?/ Isn’t everything God’s? “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof,” as it says in the Psalms. How could anything be Caesar’s? Aren’t Caesar’s coins actually God’s? Isn’t the majesty of Caesar’s palace in Rome really God’s? And by the way—isn’t even Caesar himself God’s own creation?

So what gives? Is Jesus saying that we should obey the government, and not mix that up with obeying him? Kind of. Let’s return to where this excursus began, and that is with the statement “we have lost touch with the reality of money.”

The reality of money is that money is not God. It is a false God. A very potent one. And quite often, we unwittingly worship that false god. For all the things we believe it does for us. We think it makes us happy, when in reality it makes us restless for more. We think it is our security, when in reality it leaves us open to calamities like we have experienced in the global economy. We think money buys power, prestige and admiration, when in reality it only leases those commodities.

The big problem for us is that we can get carried away by money, and then it begins to rule us—which it does not through excess, but by scarcity. How many of you usually know day by day what the Dow Jones has done by the closing bell. Not many. Now, how many of you kept watch over it last week like a mother hen with her chicks? We get real interested when the stocks go down and down and down. Scarcity – the news is far more scary when the blue chips are down. When they’re up, the news that hundreds of families were being forced from their homes is oh so ho-hum. And I doubt any of us got out of our Mutual Funds, so as not to share in big oil’s windfall. Scarcity grabs our attention by hitting us right where we live.

Scarcity even effects the way we talk here in church. Lately there’s been lots of talk about money—mostly concerning a lack of it. We voted in a deficit budget. And we’re about to run that deficit. And in presenting that information to you, we may have scared you—perhaps it’s fairer to say we wanted to scare you. Because we were scared.

But that all is scarcity mentality. And it can take over if left to its own devices. It can even replace God as our ultimate concern (to borrow Tillich’s definition), the thing that matters most to us. When what our eyes, ears, hands and mouths should be attending to is the abundance God has given us. An abundance of talent, of resources, of kindheartedness, of compassion, or work to be doing. We’ve looked away from God’s abundance and fixed our gaze on this seeming shortfall. Well, I’m here to tell you: that’s Caesar’s attitude, and we should give Caesar what is Caesar’s

We should repent. Stop what we’re doing. Turn away from seeing a half empty cup, and turn towards the God whose love is an ever flowing font. For you see, the key to the gospel passage for today is not in the question that the Pharisees ask Jesus. It in his answer—which has little to do with taxes, coins, or emperors. Jesus’ answer to those Pharisees is both a promise and a challenge.

A promise of the steadfastness of God’s love for all creation and his true dominion over all. We say, “Nothing is certain except death and taxes.” Jesus says, “God’s love is stronger than death and you don’t need to fill out a lot of forms to get it.” God’s love is certain, and it is abundant. And spreading that good news to anyone on the highways and byways of Hillsborough county is where we have focused our ministry historically, and it will continue to be—if we approach our mission not from a deficit position, but from a surplus waiting to be tapped. If we approach the upcoming Mission Freedom debt reduction campaign not from an attitude of paying our debts, but of giving to God from the abundance that is God’s.. The Mission Focus process that we have just entered into will help us discern how to do that—but for now, I can think of no better way to begin than to repent.

So—do you repent of an attitude of scarcity? (I repent!)

Do you repent of putting money before mission, budget before blessings?

Do you repent of trying to blame our anxieties about money on others?

Do you repent of staying silent in church when it comes to talking about money?

And finally, do you offer your repentance freely? (I do!)

Now that wasn’t so scary was it? And a whole lot more fun than paying your taxes. And now that we’re facing God and his abundance, we can move forward. Amen

Second Course - Soup

2008-10-08T11:30:00.001-04:00

Last year my wife and I took a cruise to Bermuda. The food was really great (and the scenery too).
And exotic. One of the things my wife and I tried was snails (which sounds nicer in French - escargot). They tasted mostly like the butter and garlic they were slathered with, but they were tastier than I imagined.

Another thing she tried but I didn't was cold soup. I can't remember the types. But, in my humble opinion, the words "cold" and "soup" don't go together unless you're complaining to the maitre'de! To me eating cold soup would be right up there with taking a big slurp of your coffee--only to find it had cooled off! Yuk!

Still you can't knock it unless you've tried it, as the saying goes.

I think that every time I read this Isaiah lesson, which describes the great messianic feast at the end of time. Fine wines I can deal with--it's the part about the marrow that makes my stomach cringe. I wonder if there's a vegetarian option in heaven?

But for the first listeners, that marrow would have been something to drool over--representing all the goodness of eternal life with God. Marrow was something decadent--something so rich, so sought after as to be highly desired.

I guess I just could just substitute French Onion Soup for the marrow blue plate special in my mind. It's savory goodness evokes warm and rich imagery in my mind. Unless it's cold!

First Course - Appetizer

2008-10-07T10:02:00.002-04:00

The lessons from Isaiah and Matthew both speak of grand feasts. So what better way to explore them than through the theme of a banquet? So, without further adieu, here is the appetizer, our first course. Its purpose is to whet your appetite for the goodies to come...

(from Matthew 22:1-14) ..."When the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said, 'Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?' And he was speechless..."

The story of the wedding banquet with reluctant guests is familiar. The King holds a wedding party for his son, but when the invited are summoned to the table, they are too busy and indifferent to come. Some even "shoot the messengers." So those people are "destroyed," and new guests are found (wherever) and invited (whomever). They have the good manners to come when they are called to dinner!

Everything is going great--the feast is on and the band is playing the bunny hop, when in comes the king (fashionably late for a neat entrance), and lo and behold he spots a guy in the corner who is not wearing black tie. Immediately the king calls him on it--stupefying the poor guy. (And then has him tossed out on his butt!)

What gives with this moment of Miss Manners on steroids? Isn't the "King" supposed to be gracious? Hey this kind of feature whets my appetite for knowing more!

In those days one was issued the duds you were to wear to a wedding feast. So either this guy has slipped in uninvited, or he's dissed the king big time by refusing to wear the robe assigned him. Either way he is both a stand out, and bonehead for thinking that no one would notice!

Which leads me to believe that what we see here is some editing by Matthew. Perhaps the original parable ended with the hall being filled with new guests. And the part we're discussing was added on, maybe from another unrelated parable, to address the reality Matthew's church was facing. That being a separation from the Jewish community, and a need to explain why some were not "chosen." (Because they refused to.)

There's more to these two (?) parables than that. There's eschatology, soteriology, and theology wrapped up in these stories. But for now we must be satisfied with this delicious tidbit, and wait for the next course...

Let it begin with me

2008-10-06T10:10:00.002-04:00

I wanted to start off this week on a serious note. But it didn’t work out that way! Because, first I want to talk with you about good news, and bad news. As in, “I’ve got some good news and some bad news.” Ever hear that kind of joke? But did you know that they have some specifically for pastors?

Like: Pastor, the good news is Mrs. Jones is wild about your sermons. The bad news is she’s also wild about Keeping up with the Kardashians, Survivor Hoboken, and reruns of Three’s Company!
Or: Pastor, the good news is church attendance rose dramatically in the last three weeks. The bad news is you were on vacation.
Or: The good news is it’s your birthday, Pastor. The bad news is the youth group decided to surprise you with an unplanned visit at 3 in the morning. And the worse news is: they have flamingos!

Good news and bad news.

Sometimes the scriptures that we hear read aloud in worship are good news—so full of hope, so infused with grace, so saturated with the gospel that you can almost taste salvation in the air. Sometimes the scriptures that we hear read aloud in worship are full of God’s care and concern—indicative of a god who has nothing but steadfast love for his people. In fact, most times, the scriptures we hear at worship reveal a broken, yet salvageable relationship between God and humanity that God cherishes and covenants with us restore to whole and right. Most times.

Today, not so much.

Today we have the tales of two vineyards—one sung by Isaiah, the other told by Jesus to the crowds and religious authorities in the Jerusalem temple. These are not happy stories. They’re not the kind you would read to your kids at bedtime. There are no knights in shiny armor. Instead there is a vengeful God. There are no lives lived “happily ever after.” Instead there is death and destruction. One cannot imagine these stories eliciting anything but gloomy-doomy faces amongst the people gathered to listen to them. It’s the “bad news,” the bad news that, in these vineyards, there are consequences for misguided actions—dire consequences.

In the Old Testament story, the vineyard itself bears the brunt of God’s wrath. [The vineyard being an allegory for the people of Israel.] God spared nothing in providing for the well-being and continued good fortune of the vineyard (good news), but instead of fine, cultivated grapes, the vines produced musky, old, wild grapes. (Bad news.)

So, the hedge that keeps out the animals is torn down, the wall that protected it is leveled, the vines are no longer cared for, the plot is overrun by useless weeds and thorns, the wild grapes are devoured by wild animals or smashed underfoot, and even the clouds won’t rain on the vineyard anymore. (You know you’re down and out when it won’t even rain on you.) Basically this divine meltdown portends the devastation of Israel and Judah, their total and complete abandonment. (Even worse news)

In Jesus reworking of this prophetic passage, he describes a landowner who, although he is non-resident, has still provided everything necessary for the successful cultivation of grapes and the production of fine wine. Tenants are selected, an agreement is reached as to the harvest, and they are well set. (Good news.)
But the harvest comes, and the tenants choose to renege on their agreement with the landowner. They abuse or kill the collectors he sends—not once, but twice. (Bad news.) And then they audaciously carry out a plot to take the vineyard for themselves by murdering the landowner’s son. (Worse news.)

Now. We could get all allegorical on these two stories, and assign each and every character a real life counterpart—for example, the vineyard in Isaiah could be Israel, God is the vintner, and in Jesus’ story, the collectors were the prophets, and the landowner’s son is Jesus. We could even get creative and determine modern day allegories for them. The tenants are those who have not worshiped God rightly, the new tenants are those who are pure in worship and doctrine.

But this approach totally misses the point of these two vineyard stories. Isaiah sang this sad love song to Israel and Judah. Not to entertain them, but to hold a mirror up to them, that they might see just who he’s singing about. The story’s details are meant to draw them into a scenario in which they recognize that Isaiah is singing about them!.

With the gospel reading as well, the point is in not the details and portrayals. It’s in the listeners’ sudden realization that Jesus is accusing them! The chief priests and the elders of the temple figure out that Jesus has made them a character in his vineyard parable. Not a flattering characterization, either.

That’s a difficult realization to come to. The people of Israel ignored (or killed) the prophets for the most part, rather than accept the notion that everything weren’t just hunky-dory between God and them. And it took three stinging parables and a fig tree for Jesus to get the point across to the temple crew. Even then, they didn’t clean up their act, ironically they moved towards fulfilling the story. They want to arrest him. To kill him.

Now, if we believe that the bible is the living word of God that speaks to us still today (and we do), and that it is multivalent in interpretation (and it is), then what we could extract from these two tales is the same sense of revelation that struck the Israelites in Isaiah’s time, and the temple authorities in Jesus’. That being, to sum it up with a song lyric—It’s me, O Lord, standing in the need of prayer! Me! Mea culpa. I have sinned—I am a sinner.

And it is so hard to admit our culpability. It’s so much easier and more pleasant to think that such passages are polemical and don’t include “us” as characters—except maybe as those bearing good grapes, or the new (and improved!) tenants. Like the disciples at the last Supper, we ask incredulously, “Is it I, Lord?” Secretly thinking, “I just know it’s someone else.”

One Sunday the pastor of St. John’s by the Delicatessen determined that he needed to preach on sin. His flock had been straying a bit, especially the old bachelor farmers. They’d been spending too much time at the local pub. Couple that with the usual gossip and backbiting that goes on in any group, and the pastor’d seen and heard enough. Today he would convict them all. (He could steer them back to the gospel and its sweet forgiveness next week.)
He ascended to his pulpit, drew himself up, and had at it—decrying everything from taking extra packets of sweet’n’low at the local diner, to tattling on your little brother, to taking the Lord’s name in vain. He even worked up a sweat, laying into them for their own good. And he thought that he had made an impact.
Until, at service’s end when he stood at the door and shook hands with the folks. Never had he had so many responses to one of his sermons. Usually he got a, “Great sermon,” from the head usher, and Mr. Greene invariably weighed in with a, “Nice job Reverend.” But today, just about every person shaking his hand did so with comment on the sermon. Unfortunately they were all the same. “You sure gave it to those sinners today, Pastor. They’ll never show their faces here!”

Donald Miller is the author of what has been called the best look at Christian spirituality from a non-Christian perspective, Blue Like Jazz. Miller speaks to this type of “hard look in the mirror” when he relates his experience protesting in NYC at an World Bank event President Bush was attending. After the president was whisked off without being seen, much less engaging with the protesters, Miller suddenly has a moment of intense clarity about the futility of the blame game and a basic tenet of the Christian faith.

"When we were done [protesting], I started wondering if we had accomplished anything. I started wondering whether we could actually change the world. I mean, of course we could -we could change our buying habits, elect socially conscious representatives and that sort of thing, but honestly don't believe we will be solving the greater human conflict with our efforts. The problem is not a certain type of legislation or even a certain politician; the problem is the same that it had always been.

I am the problem.

I think every conscious person, every person who is awake to the functioning principles within his reality, has a moment where he stops blaming the problems in the world on group think, on humanity and authority, and starts to face himself. I hate this more than anything. This is the hardest principle within Christian spirituality for me to deal with. The problem is not out there; the problem is the needy beast of a thing that lives in my chest.

More than my question about the efficacy of social action were my questions about my own motives. Do I want social justice for the oppressed, or do I want to be known as a socially active person? I spend 95 percent of my time thinking about myself anyway. I don't have to watch the evening news to see that the world is bad, I only have to look at myself. I am not browbeating myself here; I am only saying that true change, true life-giving, God-honoring change would have to start with the individual. I was the very problem I had been protesting. I wanted to make a sign that read "I AM THE PROBLEM!""

You are the problem, that’s the bad news.

But here’s the good news. You are also the solution. Gathered together as one great holy people spanning the globe and time itself, we’ll hear the words “given for you,” and shed “for you.” God comes to us individually with love and forgiveness, enabling us to live again for others.

And here’s the really, really good news. Renewed and strengthened by the body and
blood of our Savior Jesus Christ, we are transformed. Our past ceases to be a sinful burden and instead becomes a trove of wisdom and experience—even as we come to realize that the things we once valued above all, are now not important, and can easily be sloughed off. And in this transformation, which by the way comes from the Holy Spirit, in this transformation, we are empowered. In the same way it hits me that “I am the problem,” I know now—I know—that I can make a difference. I can change the world!

You might think this is a pipedream, a fantasy, an exercise in naïveté. But let’s take global warming for instance. We all know we should reduce our individual carbon footprints as much as we can. But I think that deep down we consider it futile—that it is really the factories and power plants belching acrid smoke into the upper atmosphere who are to blame. That unless these behemoths green up, the cause is dead.
And yet, according to the Wall Street Journal, 64% of green house emissions are caused by individuals. So mea culpa—I’m going to switch lightbulbs, tune up the furnace and do whatever I can—because it has been revealed to me that I am the problem.

Where else am I the problem? (Don’t answer that!) It may be in Darfur. It may be in feeding the world. And it might even be something so close to home as this fellowship. Where are you a problem? Where am I a problem?

That, I trust will be shown to me, And if today’s readings are any indication (and they are!), it will be shown to me in surprising ways—like in a story in a major newspaper, like out of the mouths of children, like in the bible (even those books that are so hard to find—Nahum), like in the supermarket checkout line, like via e-mail! Like in a song. You know the one I’m thinking of—Let It Begin with Me.

Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Let there be whatever—religious tolerance, an end to racism, a sanctuary full of people on a Sunday morning, mission and ministry for others in the name of God, let there be people of many Christian denominations gathered at the Lord’s table despite their different interpretations of that admittedly foundational event. Let there be all of these things. But let them begin with me being convicted and admitting my guilt, with me knowing that I am the problem, then with God transforming my sinful life into a weak-strong vessel, and with God inviting me into a relationship of co-creation. Let it begin with me. Together, we are the solution to the problem. Amen?
AMEN!

Respect My Authority!

2008-09-29T10:39:00.001-04:00

Shhh! There’s a TV show that I’m not allowed to watch. My wife, Lisa, won’t let me. South Park, it’s called. It’s a cartoon. How could a harmless, little, cartoon get on Lisa’s banned list? Well, she thinks it’s vulgar (and it is). But it’s funny, too! How do I know? Uhh, somebody must of told me it was. That’s it. Or no, ahh, I’ve seen commercials for it. Yeah, that’s the ticket! Okay, okay! I’ve watched it once or twice…ahh—several times…oh—whenever I want to when Lisa’s not around. Mea culpa!
You know, Lisa also won’t even let me imitate the characters (especially Cartman), or quote them in conversation. Granted, most of what they say is shockingly controversial, lewd, or just plain offensive. But there are a few less vulgar catch-phrases that could be fit into a scholarly discussion. For instance, is it so wrong to interject into the after dinner repartee something like—I don’t know—“Oh my gosh, they killed Kenny!” (Not to worry. The character Kenny gets “done in” in every episode. And before you get self righteous over the difference between cartoon violence now and when you were a kid, may I remind you that you watched Wiley Coyote fall off that cliff hundreds of times!)

Practically speaking, there’s only one other bit of South Park dialog that I can quote for you this morning and not be in the Bishop’s office tomorrow morning. It comes from the aforementioned character Cartman, and it originated, I believe, in the episode where Cartman becomes either hall monitor or crossing guard at his school. He has his badge and safety sash, but as he calls out orders left and right to the other kids, they don’t listen to him. In fact they run him over! To which Cartman, in his best southern police trooper’s accent says, “Respect mah authoritah” Respect my authority! [We have a fashionable illustration thereof. (show t-shirt)] Hilarious!

From that point on, Cartman uses that line whenever he tries to bend someone to his will. But the problem is: they don’t bend. Ever. That’s because Cartman attempts to derive his authority from his position and attire, and his loud obnoxiousness. While in this world of ours, real authority is not conveyed upon someone like a uniform, rather it is granted by those under that authority.

The gospel reading from Matthew this morning presents an exchange between Jesus and the chief priests and elders, in the Jerusalem temple. The topic is Jesus’ authoritah, supposedly. But nearer the truth is that these religious professionals had experienced a dip in their approval ratings (thanks to Jesus), and were keen for the people (and Jesus), to respect their authority.

They had ample evidence that Jesus didn’t respect them. Just previous to this encounter, Jesus had ridden into the city on a donkey (symbolic of the return of Davidic kingship), and proceeded to ransack the temple market place—claiming that the powers that be had turned the temple into a place of cheating and fraudulent commerce. And he didn’t stop there.

He also invited into the temple all the blind and lame, where he healed them. Which incited the crowds gathered to the point where they were crying out, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” (Read ‘Messiah.’) When the chief priests hear this, they stop picking up the money, and rounding up the doves and goats, and they lambaste Jesus. “Aren’t you going to stop them from calling you that? Have some respect!” Jesus answers with a scripture, then leaves for the night.

But he’s back again first thing in the morning, teaching in the temple. And then comes the scenario detailed for us in today’s gospel. You can see that the chief priests and elders had reason to be angry. Not because Jesus had broken several “laws” in the past day, but because he acted like he owned the place, and he wasn’t answering to their authority. He seemed to think he had his own authority. And that is what they called him on.

“By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” they ask him—thinking in their own minds that only priestly authority can be recognized (beyond that of Rome, of course). And they know they didn’t give this Jesus any authority to teach in their temple, to disrupt their temple business, to question their authority—criticizing them and hinting that they had somehow missed the boat when it came to understanding God’s authority. Outrageous! From where does this authority come? Who died and made you King, Jesus?

It was a trap of course. Their question. They hoped Jesus would say that his authority came from God—that he acted with God’s authority—as God. Authoritatively forgiving sins, healing the sick, and “fulfilling the law,” as he called it. That was what the chief priests call blasphemy, and it would be especially heinous for them to hear it uttered within temple walls—the holiest structure in all of Israel!
But Jesus replies in a way that implies the answer they were looking for, but does so in a way in which the chief priests would either be forced to admit that John’s (and therefore Jesus’) authority came from God, or to say that he was a fraud. Not a crowd pleaser. They decline to answer. And so Jesus does too.

But he doesn’t have to answer because his authority is both otherworldly—given to him by the ultimate authority, God, and real worldly authority because it is accepted by the crowds. (For the most part.)

Anyone can claim to have authority over you—but unless you surrender your free will, they have only a small measure of control over you. (Take as a for instance the French Resistance during WWII. A less extreme example would be the relationship between your average teenager and her parents.) The chief priests and the elders were experiencing a slippage in the people’s acceptance of their authority, as Jesus siphoned it away with the radical grace of the gospel. A confrontation was inevitable. And it came—the passion. An excellent example of how fickle people can be when it comes to recognizing authority. Good thing Jesus doesn’t hold it against them Because, even hanging on a Roman cross, Jesus exudes authority. Over life, and over death. Over sin and over hell. Over you and over me. When we respect that authoritah, and even when we don’t.

There’s a difference, you see, between accepting Jesus Christ as Lord of your life—allowing his authority over you, living according to his example, proclaiming the same radical grace of God that he did—there’s a difference between that and Jesus having the authority to come to us even while we reject his earthly authority by living life as if we had never heard of Jesus of Nazareth. To come to us and to love and forgive us despite our self-involved practice of idolatry. For when we place our ultimate trust in anything ahead of faith in Christ—be it billion dollar bailouts, our own intelligence, power, riches, or talent—when we rely on these for grace and salvation, we are praying to false gods. And that is idolatry.
But even if we ignore Jesus in this way, Christ still has the authority to release us from this idolatrous trap, even while we prefer to remain entangled within it. Case in point: baptism.

Today Ryan and JaNene have brought their children, Dwight and Cassandra here to God’s house to be brought into the family of God and the fellowship of the church through the water and the promise of baptism. These two little children, smart as they are, cannot profess their faith in Christ or come to him of their own accord. They are here, not because they acknowledge Christ’s authority. They are here because the Holy Spirit drew them here by means of God’s Word reverberating in the hearts and minds of their family. And God, by his authority over heaven and earth, will unilaterally give them forgiveness and make them worthy of the title he will bestow upon them—beloved child of God!

It is the same for all of us here today. God forgives our inborn propensity towards looking out for old numero uno, and frees us to place ourselves under the authority of Jesus Christ. Yet that is a choice we make each and every day as we struggle with the remnants of our sinful selves. And Jesus knows that.

He told the people gathered in the temple a parable. It mainly pointed to the religious authorities’ complete failure to recognize the authority of the Messiah. But it is illustrative today as well.

A father has two sons. He tells them both to get to work in the vineyard. The first flat out says “no way,” but later has a change of heart and does what he was asked to The other one says, “Righto, pops!” And then goes back to his comic book. Which did the Father’s will?

The first, the one who struggled with himself over who was the boss—who eventually came around to accepting the father’s authority. The second does not recognize the authority of the father, despite his obedient words. Perhaps he’ll come around later—who knows.

Jesus’ point is all of us struggle with our new identities as children of God, as the sinful self, drowned in baptism, keeps on popping to the surface—like Jason at the end of that horror movie. If we accept Jesus authority over us, we are empowered to dunk him back under and live another day for Christ. If we don’t—there’s always tomorrow.

One last thing. And that’s a “what if?” What if we all gave Jesus authority over our lives, totally and completely? What if we really listened to—and then really did the things he taught? What if we respected Jesus’ authoritah? Well, brothers and sisters in Christ, that’s about a good a definition of the kingdom of God that you’ll get anywhere. And someday, that’ll be the case, and grace will rule, and mercy will win out over justice.

Until that day, we can pray that we follow Jesus closely, that we rejoice in the authority that God has given him over us, and that, when we start to lose faith in Jesus and grab onto as much of the world as we can for comfort and safety, Jesus will come to us, not saying “respect my authoritah,” but “follow me.”

Sour Grapes

2008-09-24T10:09:00.002-04:00

"What do you mean by repeating this proverb concerning the land of Israel, 'The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge?'" - Ezekiel 18:2

(In other words, the older generation has done wrong, but the younger generation pays for it.)

The LORD told Ezekiel to ask this of the people of Israel, who (according to the blurb before the reading in Celebrate) thought that the sins of their wayward ancestors and parents doomed them to more of the same. They didn't feel capable of repentance. They didn't feel worthy of God's love, and they were more than a bit whiny about it. Classic blame casting. Also classic resignation.

Ezekiel was giving the next generation of Israelites the good news that the past was the past, and only what they did with their lives really mattered. Their parents may have sinned, and it may even have had effect upon them. But when it comes to God's love, it's the same. Turn and live. Look to the God who loves you and follow his precepts.

This passage made me think of the mess we're leaving the next generation. Global warming, wars, poverty, corruption--the list goes on. We have feasted on sour grapes, and left those who follow to receive the bad taste in their mouths. They, in turn, feel a sense of doom and become resigned to living in some post-apocalyptic world.

But with God there is no statute of limitations for eating or tasting sour grapes. The parents can turn and live, and so can the the children. Turning and living can restore what was damaged by sin, and it can restore, more importantly, the relationship we have with God. So we are responsible for our own sin, but the consequences of sin are not forever. We can work towards the kingdom of heaven, despite the debris and obstacles left by others--and those others can change and help instead of hinder.

We can make a difference in the really big issues of the day. We need only turn and live lives worthy of Christ Jesus.

A story to finish--My friend, a vintner on Long Island, once gave us a bottle of Merlot. We tasted it and was it ever sour and dry. We mentioned that to Rich, and I'll never forget what that master wine maker said. "Just put some sugar in it." So if life gives you sour grapes, I guess with God's gracious help, we can make grape-ade.

Unfair!

2008-09-22T10:14:00.005-04:00

Note - this sermon contains references to the presidential campaign--as an organizational device for the message, and an attempt at humor. In no way does it endorse one candidate or the other. Can you spot the references?

May the boundless grace and total peace of our almighty, merciful God, and of his Christ, be with you now and forevermore.

(Come out from sacristy with a handheld sign that says “UNFAIR!”)

Unfair! Unfair! God is unfair!

Unfair! Unfair! Unfair! God is unfair!
You’ll never guess what God did! Unfair!
I mean it’s outrageous! Unfair! God is unfair!
You haven’t heard about this?
Weeeell, you’re in for a shocker! Let me tell you.
Unfair! God is unfair!

Listen to this…Jonah—you remember Jonah don’t you? Prophet? Sent by God to warn Ninevah to clean up her act? Didn’t want to go—didn’t want to warn those hated Ninevites? Ran away to sea, got caught in a storm, was unceremoniously thrown overboard, and swallowed by a whale?

Yeah, that Jonah! He didn’t want to go because he was afraid. Not scared of the Ninevites, or of the big city. Not frightened of God’s retribution for his disobedience—he was ready to die rather than give the enemy the heads up.
Jonah wasn’t afraid because God was worked up over the sins of the Ninevites—fire and brimstone mad at them. No, Jonah liked that. He was afraid if he warned them what was headed their way, they might just, might just change their evil ways. Put on the old sackcloth and ashes and repent. Which wouldn’t be so bad—seeing those suckers groveling at God’s feet. Oh no, that would be most excellent! What would definitely stink is if God changed his mind and didn’t pulverize the curs. Forgave them instead! That would stink big time.

Well finally Jonah does his job, and dontcha know the Ninevites repent, and God spares the city. Jonah is miffed, to say the least. “That not fair,” he complained. “That’s just more of my grace,” said the Lord.

Unfair! Unfair! God is unfair!

You know, God has a record of this unfairness. In fact, 95% of the time, when confronted with sin against him, God voted to forgive it. That’s not so bad for those little sins, but when he forgives a whole people at once (which he does time after time with Israel) and he bails out the ones who should have known better—then that’s , that’s…that’s unfair!

Some of the biggest names in the bible were treated unfairly by God. Abraham—Abraham passed his wife Sarah off as his sister to two powerful kings. Kings with romance on the mind. Despite that cowardly act, God blessed Abraham and made of him a nation blessed by God. Unfair!

Speaking of blessings—Jacob stole his brother Esau’s paternal blessing. A crime so devious, that Jacob fled from his bother’s wrath. But not from God’s. Instead of wrath, Jacob gets a heavenly vision, two wives, a passel of kids, a beasts-load of household goods, and the title in a wrestling match with God. Unfair!
One more—Joseph. That egotistical, self-righteous, amazing techno-colored coat wearing dreamer. You’d think he was getting his just desserts being tossed in a pit and then sold off to slavery in Egypt. But, nooooo! In a surprise move, God arranges for Joseph to be the Pharaoh’s second in command—despite his lack of foreign policy experience. Unfair!

God is unfair. At least to our way of thinking. That’s because God’s way of thinking is radically different from ours. Well….there are some similarities. Say for instance, you have a homework to write an essay every night. And every day the teacher has each student read their essay aloud to see if it’s been done. Done earns you an “A,” not done lands you and “F.” Now you, being the free spirit you are, you rarely do the assignment. And imagine if you will, a straight A student who never ever neglected to write an essay, but had a rough day and didn’t complete the assignment. So the both of you are not “ready to read.” But the teacher, after red-penning your F in her collection, gives the other student a chance to make up the assignment. No F. You say, “Not fair!”

Actually, it is fair. It’s just not equal. And about as foolish as a bridge to nowhere.

But, now, turn that around. Imagine you’re the straight A student, who did the assignment, and the person sitting next to you is the slacker. Tell me. How would you feel if the teacher gives that ne’re-do-well a great big A plus plus plus (with a gold star), and gives you an A. Now that’s unfair. But that’s the way things work in the kingdom of God. It’s radical, man! Radical grace.

The kind you can’t earn, no matter how early you hit the bricks. No matter how hard you work. No matter in what order you were “hired.” Everybody gets the same daily recommended allowance of God’s grace. Because that’s all you could ever need. It’s one size fits all. If I have been on the Gospel Talk Express from day one and I get the same amount of grace, love, forgiveness, acceptance—that feels a little bit unfair.

But from the underside of the gospel story today, that sounds real good. If I come to faith later in life, or drift away from the church and come back to it—no matter—I’m not considered a second class citizen in God’s eyes. God doesn’t just crack the glass ceiling of our making, he shatters it completely.

So, we just have to learn to accept the fact that God’s “fair” is way more far reaching than ours could ever be. We need to adjust our preconceived notions of who “belongs” and who doesn’t, of who is forgiven and who is not, of which sin is worse or whose repentance is lacking or insincere. And we need to set aside our self-righteousness and admit that we too are not much better than third party candidates when it comes to winning election—it’s impossible, but we’re elect anyway.

And that’s what grace is all about—it’s about being in not the White House, but in God’s house—in relationship with God and with each other. Working together to make our world a reflection of the kingdom of God is what we do, but brothers and sisters in Christ is who we are—and that’s conferred upon us not by the swing state of NH, and not by blue collared workers in PA, not by middle class barbers who favor polka music, and not by any promises or slogans—but we are made God’s own by God, graciously, through the cross, on which Christ opened his arms to all. To ALL.

Sometimes this won’t seem fair. But remember…That’s not fair. That’s just more of God’s grace.

A man convicted of a heinous crime, gets out of jail and says he’s found Jesus and experienced his love. That’s not fair. That’s just more of God’s grace.

A teen who never shows up for confirmation classes is allowed to confirm his faith with the class anyway. That’s not fair. That’ just more of God’s grace.

People who profess a need for a little monetary help from the church are not greeted with skepticism, but with assistance and concern. That’s not fair. That’s just more of God’s grace.

The 80% that do only 20% of the work and give 20% of the funds needed to do ministry, are just as blessed by God for their gifts. That’s not fair. That’s just more of God’s grace.

When we turn a sympathetic but deaf ear to those in need, those marginalized, those afflicted, those harmed by disasters both natural and manmade, we are still loved by God. That’s not fair. That’s just more of God’s grace.

When we know we should be last in a world overly tipped in or favor, but demand to be first. And yet God relents from punishing-- That’s not fair. That’s just more of God’s grace.

And remember most of all—when I don’t live a life worthy of the gospel of Christ, when my sinful self wins out over the new man that Christ has created in me, when I’m a lazy disciple, or a neglectful steward, or a bad Samaritan, Jesus doesn’t reject me. He forgives me, and encourages me to try again to live a godly life. And if I fall, again he’ll pick me up. And again, and again, and again. That’s not fair. That’s just more of God’s grace.

May that grace of God bless us always and my God bless Messiah Lutheran Church! Amen

Worthy OF Christ

2008-09-17T10:02:00.002-04:00

"Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ..." -Philippians 1:27a

We had company over the other night. So the other day we cleaned house! Got rid of that "lived in" look, and spruced up a bit. You know, it's good to have folks over if for no other reason than it forces you to take a look around and do the things you've been meaning to do for quite some time. It compels you to make your home worthy of visitors.

Although Paul knows that through our own device we are never worthy to have Christ, he does believe that, once you've been given Christ Jesus, you should try to make your life worthy to have Christ in it. That we should clean up our act because Christ dwells within us.

What would you throw away in your life, if you wanted to make it worthy of Christ? A grudge? A bad habit? A stereotyped world view? Think about it for a minute--what would you do to make your life worthy of Christ?

Lord, help us to live our lives in one spirit, with one mind, in true faith. Amen

Grace Abounds

2008-09-16T11:37:00.002-04:00

God's grace is the concept on display in this weeks lessons.

[To read them go to http://www.textweek.com/yeara/propera20.htm}

Jonah is perturbed that God would show mercy to the hated Ninevites. The Psalmist echoes Jonah's words about God's steadfast love and grace. St. Paul speaks of God graciously giving us the privilege of believing in, and suffering for, Jesus And the gospel from Matthew is a parable of God's surprising grace--meted out without consideration of timing or ability.

Grace is more than what you say at the dinner table. It's more than "love" and more than forgiveness. For God' grace is boundless--there are no limitations to its application. That's good for us--for, like it or not, we fall more towards being undeserving rather than worthy. And even when we're at our best--God still spreads his mercy out evenly.

A radical concept--God's grace. Hard to fathom. But maybe we're not supposed to plumb the depths of God's grace. Maybe we're just to float along in its waters. Being "graced."

Lord God, your grace is beyond our comprehension, yet we know it through Christ Jesus. Help us to glory in your care for the marginalized, and not want more for ourselves, or less for them.
AMEN

Paradox - it's not two MD's

2008-09-15T15:06:00.001-04:00

Now that summer’s officially, if not astronomically, over, I’m regretting all the things I wanted to do during it, but didn’t get to, for one reason or another. For example, I didn’t go swimming near enough—too rainy. I didn’t get to the beach at all this summer. And I didn’t do any climbing either—our hike up Pac Manadnock had to be canceled. (Due to rain, surprise, surprise!)

Of course I did do a lot of wonderful things this summer—I sat around a campfire at our Calumet camp-out, I finally read that last Harry Potter book, and Lisa and I went geocaching several times. All fun, but still I miss those traditional summer things that I just didn’t get around to. Like fishing. Like ka-bobs on the grill. Like running through the sprinkler. Like a picnic.

Oh, and not just some roadside tuna sandwich and bottle a moxie type picnic. I mean an all out summer church picnic. With tables groaning under the weight of all that good summertime food. With Frisbees flying and kids’ games of tag and jump rope. With a softball game—adults versus kids—sure to be exciting!

And contests! Have you ever been to one of those church picnics where they have contests? Pie-eating. The infamous sack race and the notorious three-legged race. Egg on a spoon relay. And, of course, that granddaddy of all summertime picnic contests—the tug-of-war.

You know how that works, don’t you? You split the group into two teams. Then you take a rope and you stretch it evenly over some kind of midpoint marker, usually someone’s t-shirt, but, ideally, a goopy, slippery, slimy, old mud puddle. And then the teams pick up the rope, facing each other—one to each side of the mud. Then on the count of three, each team digs in and pulls! And they pull against each other—the object of the contest is for one team to out pull the other—sending them into the quagmire. Yuk!

Gross! But it’s the tug-of-war that I want you to think of this Holy Cross Sunday, as we contemplate the wisdom and power of God. Yes, tug-of-war! Only I’d like you to consider the game with just a slight adjustment to the rules. There’s the same rope, same icky mud, and same two groups of people pulling either end towards the middle. BUT - instead of two teams working against each other, the two groups are on the same team.. And the object isn’t to land one group in the yuk. The object is to keep the rope in perfect tension—moving back and forth somewhat—but keeping it as still as it possibly can be—while still tugging hard.

Have you got that image in your head? Well congratulations then, you’ve visualized a paradox. Which, by the way, is not something you’d find at the lake…or, as the sermon title says, it’s not two M.D.’s. Rather, it is two diametrically opposed concepts, both held as true, simultaneously. Now you can see why I spent five minutes on picnic games! It’s a difficult word to wrap your head around and capture the full meaning thereof. And so the image of a team with two groups pulling equally as much—avoiding the mud bog—that’s a good visual aid. And a simple model for the highly nuanced theological point I want to make today. And that is:

God isn’t reasonable. And that’s good.

Sounds bad. But I mean “God isn’t reasonable” in the sense that our human reasoning doesn’t work with trying to understand God. God won’t be contained by our logic or our science. God is. God just is. Or to put it in Old Testament words, “God is who God is.” And sometimes, “God is” requires that we hold two contradictory ideas in tension.

Primary example for today being the cross. Side one of the rope: the cross is a cruel instrument of institutionalized execution and torture. Side two of the rope: With the cross of Christ, God saved the world. Held in static tension, these two diametrically opposed concepts form the basis of our theology of salvation. That the Son of God was killed by human beings—the most heinous of sins. But that this was exactly the way God chose to manifest his power over sin.

It’s like the Old testament lesson describes, in an episode I like to call Snakes on a Plain. (P-l-a-i-n – get it?) The Israelites are wandering in the desert—complaining that they were missing the luxuries of life they enjoyed in Egypt. Like food and water. Seems like a reasonable gripe—but again God isn’t reasonable. The Israelites demeanor reveals the fact that they don’t trust God anymore. So God sends them? Snakes—poisonous snakes. Now that’s not something I like to hear. But again…not reasonable. Hold on to that end of the rope.

The people repent and ask forgiveness. So God has Moses make a metal snake and attach it to a pole, and instructs the people who are snakebit to look up at the snake and live. The very thing that plagued them, saved them. That’s the other end of the rope. Pull too hard on one side, you get many dead Israelites. Too hard on the other, you get a bunch of healthy people wasting their time looking at a snake on a stick! Paradox.

As Christians, and especially as Lutherans, we must be able to deal with paradox. We must be able to accept them for what they are. A tug-of-war. Why do we need to deal? Because they’re all over in our faith.

God’s power is shown via weakness.

God’s wisdom is foolishness to us.

Through death we receive new life.

Law and Gospel.

A Christian is free and subject to none, A Christian is bound to Christ and servant to all.

Over and over we are given two propositions that make perfect sense each on their own, but together are totally opposite. And we’re given those two and told, “This is what we believe.” Moses was a murderer. Moses led God’s people out of Egypt. Paul persecuted the early Christian church. Paul established the greater part of the first century church. Jesus was the almighty, all seeing, all knowing Son of the living God. Jesus died.

Put those together.

But there’s more—and here’s where it gets interesting. (Not that it hasn’t been an edge of the seater up to now!) Not only are there paradoxes that we must hold together in our faith, there are also those which we struggle to keep together in our day to day lives. Paradoxes like…

Suffering…and God’s presence in it. God takes what is bad and draws good from it. God used the suffering of Jesus to model for us the godly life that includes sacrifice for others. Pull too hard on the suffering end of the rope and you get a masochistic religion that I could never accept. Too hard to the other side and you get a God who only relates to us through pain. God is present in more than suffering, but God can always be found in suffering

Including all in our mission…knowing all fall short of God’s mercy.

Building a church…so that we could better serve those outside of it.

Not knowing what lies ahead…trusting that God watches over us and guides us.

Financial conservativism…extravagant giving in response to God’s word. We will in a few minutes be looking at raising $300,00 dollars. To get our debt off our shoulders so we can move forward on the journey. Pull too hard one way, and we choke off our mission and ministry in our attempt to be responsible stewards. Too hard the other way—well, I can’t see a down side to that one!

Each of these, on it’s own works. Together—they’re hard to accept. But—you know what I’m gonna say: God isn’t reasonable.

Thank God! Amen

Why "Rally" Sunday?

2008-09-11T14:34:00.002-04:00

Where do you go for information? The other day I was looking for the phone number of a church supply store, using the Yellow Pages--and I wasn't having too much luck! Then I thought, "What am I using this archaic informational device when I have the power of the Internet at my finger tips?" So I googled it--found it right away!

Some things the Internet is not good for. One is figuring out why we call the first day of Sunday School "Rally Day." I googled that and found a lot of church notices about upcoming Rally Days! About 150,000 of them. So I thought to myself, "Why am I using this high tech device to do what a simple dictionary could easily handle. (Yes I know there's dictionaries on line, but you have to type to get to them. I only had to walk across the office to get the dictionary!)

Three definitions--all of which are applicable to rally Sunday. First, a verb, "to come together and gather for a united purpose." Second, also verb, "to rouse or revive ." Third, the noun, "a mass gathering of people with a common interest." (There were others that didn't apply and I left out--like "a car race.")

On Rally Day you'd think our united purpose ad common interest would be Sunday School. Sort of. But it's more people gathered (church) around a common interest (the gospel). And what are we gathered for? To rouse us from placidness, from laziness, from ennui--to revive our zeal for Jesus Christ and our walk with him.

So SCS is a part of rallying, but not the sum total. We gather to thank God for baptism. We gather to hear the Word, preached and proclaimed. We gather to be nourished at the table of forgiveness and new life. We gather to be revivified, like the valley of dry bones in Ezekiel! We rededicate ourselves to the journey of discipleship, and have our eyes opened to the gifts we've gotten for it. Gathered by the Spirit, we are church again!

Rally on Messiah! Rally on Pastor Tom!

Three Strikes and You're In? Sermon 9/7/08

2008-09-08T09:52:00.002-04:00

In the heavenly justice system, God’s people are affected by two separate but equally important concepts—the LAW which convicts the heart and causes despair, and the GOSPEL, which allows us to be judged not guilty. These are their stories.

LAW. No other word in the English language can evoke such fear, as well as such relief. Such feelings of guilt, and such feelings of justice. For instance, your neighbors go out of town and their teen-aged son takes the opportunity to throw a wild party. And there’s kids parking in your driveway, kids peeing on your wife’s rose garden, kids drinking who knows what—music blaring, loud voices, and mayhem in general. Now imagine the relief you feel when you see those flashing blue lights and hear that siren. The LAW is here, and everything will be right with the world soon enough.

But now, a different scenario. You’re at home all nestled in for the night, eating a Ding-Dong and watching America’s Got Talent, when suddenly there’s a pounding on your front door. Opening it, you come face to face with a big, burly state trooper. And is it just you, or does he look angry? You start thinking, “Did I ever pay those parking tickets?” Your heart rate hits the ceiling, the chicken pot pie you had for dinner does a flip flop in your stomach, and fear rises like bile in your throat. The LAW is here, and everything is frightening and uncertain.

It’s a two-edged sword, LAW is. The one edge protects us and keeps order. The other convicts us and demands restitution. We need LAW, we can’t survive without it. And yet we bristle at its restrictiveness, we dread it for the punishment we know we deserve, and we hate it for revealing that which we would rather keep secret. The LAW is our best friend and our worst enemy rolled up in one.

Of course there’s more to the LAW than police and criminals and victims. There’s more to the LAW than legislatures making laws, courts interpreting them, and governmental leaders upholding them. There’s more to the LAW than just that basic instinct for what’s right and what’s wrong—natural law, they call it. There’s more to the LAW—because the LAW is God’s LAW, and as such its implications for the world run far deeper than an episode of Cops, a filibuster in the Senate, or even the OJ trial, part two. Because, in reality, LAW comes to us as a gift—from God.

Yes, I know, I know—in the annals of gifts received, it would seem that the LAW is right up there with underwear on Christmas morning. In actuality, the LAW is the best present we’ve ever received, except for one (later for that). For it is through the LAW that God not only orders the world, but it is also how God set Israel apart from the world—holding them to a higher standard, and manifesting in them the shape and texture of the righteousness, peace, and justice he intended for all creation.

And so it was that LAW became a part of human existence. From the very first days of creation, during which there was only one law (don’t eat of the tree of knowledge
of good and evil), to natural law, to the reception of the Ten Commandments at Sinai, the LAW gradually became more focused, specific, and set in stone (esp. the 10 commandments!). LAW eventually grew to include the regulation of the good and bad of social interaction, and the protection from harm due to food borne disease and contagion. LAW also covered the ins and outs of religious practice, specifying the types and procedures for the ritual sacrifices that were a part of Israel’s piety.

One thing God discovered about his gift of LAW, though. And that was that right from the get go, people broke it. Adam and Eve gave into the temptation to be like God. The people of Israel at the foot of Mt. Sinai, gave into impatience and danced around a golden calf-god, thus breaking the newly minted first commandment, and causing Moses to break all ten at once!

Even comfortably ensconced in the land of milk and honey, God’s people developed a disturbing pattern of first carefully obeying the LAW and living in peace and prosperity, and then turning a blind eye to God’s care and reaping the bitter harvest of consequence. God would chastise them through the prophets, and sometimes they would repent and turn back from the darkness of sin to the light of God’s favor and forgiveness. But then hard times or temptation creep in and the people strayed from the LAW again.

Like in today’s first reading from Ezekiel. The LORD tells Ezekiel to warn Israel that their waywardness is about to earn them some dire consequences. Yet God’s intention is not to see them destroyed, but instead to love them. God longs for them to turn back to him and return to a peaceful relationship with him. But they consistently make the wrong choice. And they know it, for the repercussions are swift and unpleasant. Many parts of the book of Lamentations and a good number of the Psalms speak in the agonized tones of an Israel suffering from displacement and persecution as a result of their sin.

The question for the people became, “What can we do in order to insure that the LAW is kept?” Over time the answer became apparent—add a man-made layer of “law” to God’s LAW. A layer devised to assiduously prevent transgression by making it impossible to occur. These are the “works of the law” that Paul wrote of constantly and pejoratively.

Eventually, this overlay of law became more important to the people than did the LAW itself. In their zeal to keep it, the people actually succeeded in totally circumventing the purpose of LAW, which was to keep order, to help God’s people interact with God and each other, and to care for those who needed it. They turned its focus from the community’s need to live peaceably together, to the individual’s desire to gain God’s favor. God was not pleased.

Oy, such a mess! What to do? What to do? If works of the law are another form of breaking LAW, and we as humans can’t help but break the LAW—then there’s only one thing to do. Throw yourself on the mercy of the court. That mercy being the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Thanks be to God for the GOSPEL, the other part of the salvation equation.

GOSPEL means literally “good news.” And what is God’s good news? That through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, God has counteracted the power of the LAW to condemn, with the offer of forgiveness and a renewed relationship with God based not on your merit, but on Christ’s. Simply put GOSPEL is the sweet word of total forgiveness, totally free! In this respect, GOSPEL is equivalent to another “G” word—Grace. The good news is that God is gracious, and God’s grace comes to us in the person of Jesus Christ. The LAW convicts us, but Jesus exchanges that condemnation with his righteousness—making us holy and pure before God.

Again, this is done for us not because we earned it by works of the LAW, and not because we keep the LAW—for that is not possible (let me repeat – that is not possible)—instead we receive God’s grace by faith in Jesus. Grace is unearned, undeserved, and unpaid-for. One thing it is. It’s irrevocable. GOSPEL is forever—despite what we do or say. From God’s point of view, you are his—even if you don’t believe it or accept it. The GOSPEL is relational, not contractual. Just as I am Erik’s father and he is my son—and nothing can ever change that—so too are we God’s children, and always will be. There’s no “cutting someone out of the will,” we all receive the inheritance.

This changes everything! No longer are the people of God distracted by fear of the LAW and its condemnation. They can rest assured that nothing can ever separate them from God’s love in Jesus Christ. Not even death. And if you’re not worried about scrabbling over everyone else to strut your stuff and get in good with the big guy, then you are free. Free to see others in something other than a competitive light. Free to think of them as neighbors. Free to love them as you love yourself. You are free to interact with them the way God intended. Justly, compassionately, equitably, humbly.

Take, for instance, the reading from Matthew. Usually if someone sinned against you, you might take one of two options. Either cause him or her physical harm, or sic the LAW on him. But as reconciled sinners ourselves—we who are not under LAW, but are free in the GOSPEL, we go with a third, new course of action. We talk to the transgressor. Individually. Give them a chance to explain or repent. Give the relationship a chance to become whole again.

And it doesn’t stop there. If one on one doesn’t settle your differences—if you genuinely listen, but aren’t listened to, Jesus says then take two or three other people with you and try again. No go? Let the church intervene as mediator. And if the person refuses to listen even to the church, says Jesus, then let him be as a tax collector and Gentile to you.

Which seems to go against the new way of living together. But I seriously think that Jesus was saying this with tongue planted firmly in cheek. Because, how did he treat the Syro-Phoneician woman who came to him for a cure? He healed her daughter. What did he say to the tax collector called Levi? “Get away from me you blood-sucking son of a gun!” No he said, “Follow me!” Jesus offered the kingdom to Gentiles. Jesus ate and associated with tax collectors. “Let them be as Gentiles and tax collectors to you?” You can just imagine Jesus saying that with a wink. And Matthew chuckling in the background. It’s not like our justice system. It’s three strikes and you’re in!

LAW and GOSPEL. In the Lutheran Church they go together like horse and carriage, or perhaps beer and pretzels is more relatable for Lutherans! The LAW convicts and the GOSPEL forgives. But don’t think that the GOSPEL negates the LAW. Jesus did not come to abolish the LAW, not to change it, he came to fulfill it. St. Paul writes in his letter to the Romans that “loving one another” as Jesus first loved us fulfills the LAW as well. And remember, grace frees us to care for others. So LAW is not put aside by the GOSPEL, it transforms it. It becomes the “new obedience,” as Luther called it. We try to keep the commandments in thanksgiving to God, instead of trying to win God’s love. And we no longer use the LAW as a bludgeon to attack people or groups. Instead we hold it up together before our eyes like a mirror, and trust in Jesus to make whole what is broken.

LAW and GOSPEL together form the basis for the kingdom of God. That’s why us Lutherans give it such close attention. For us individually it is the mechanism of salvation. And for us corporately, it is a new and better way to relate to each other. LAW AND GOSPEL. (cha-dah!)

This is My Body

2008-09-04T14:20:00.002-04:00

Pastor, what do Lutherans believe about the elements in communion?

This was very important to Luther.

The Catholic church of his day believed that the elements became the body and blood of Christ. They explained the transition with the notion of transubstantiation--an Aristotelian argument based on the attributes and substance of the wine and bread. Basically it said that the bread has attributes that make it bread, but the words of institution (The night our Lord Jesus was betrayed...) by the power of God transformed the substance of the elements. It still had its bread-iness and wine-iness, but it was body and blood.

Luther agreed that the wine and bread were the blood and body of Christ. But he prefered not to try and nail down how God works that miracle. Luther taught (and Lutherans still do in confirmation class) that Jesus is truly present in, with, and under the elements. In short it is a mystery that God gives us faith to accept.

Now, other reformers who broke away from the mother church after Luther was expelled from it, took the eucharist in a new direction. They insisted that the communion celebrated at worship was a reenactment of the Last Supper, and a memorial to Christ. (Do this in remembrance). The bread was bread and the wine was wine--and Jesus was present in the assembly.

Luther argued that two little Latin words (the bible had only been translated into German by Luther) "hoc est" were key to the right understanding of communion. "This is" my body...this is my blood" meant what they said. It's bread and wine, but t's body and blood--a mystery.

So what do Lutherans believe - in a nutshell?

It is personal - given "for you," shed for you.

It is corporate - all Christians of every time and place stands at the altar with us as we celebrate
the great high feast.

We receive forgiveness of sin, life and salvation through this gift.

We don't earn the gift, nor can we be worthy of it--we get it through grace.

Bread and wine are used but it is the promise of God attached to them that forgives

You are ready for communion if you have faith in the words "for you."

All the grace and promise of God is truly present in either one of the elements, and even simply in the words "For you!"

Like a Hurricane

2008-09-03T09:30:00.002-04:00

"With your faithful help rescue me from sinking in the mire; let me delivered from...the deep waters. Do not let the flood sweep over me, or the deep swallow me up, or the Pit close its mouth over me." Psalm 69:13b

It seemed almost perverse that Hurricane Gustav barreled ashore almost right on top of New Orleans, practically the same day three years ago that Katrina devastated the city and its environs. This time it wasn't "that bad." But there's still great need there - even remaining from Katrina. Of course people are reacting to the call for rescue and relief with dollars and with assistance. [There are Thrivent teams from this area scheduled to work in MS this month. Speak to me if you want to go.]

But seeing that there's three tropical storms lined up waiting to hit land, and other disasters seem to come with great and awful regularity, perhaps giving proactively to Lutheran Social Services, Lutheran World Relief, or Lutheran Disaster response is in order? (All these can be accessed through www.elca.org ) Make it part of your regular giving along with donations to World Hunger. Because we are God's hands in the world.

Life in the Pack

2008-09-02T15:08:00.003-04:00

The readings for this week are:

Ezekiel 33:7-11, in which the LORD desires Israel to obey,but they won't.
Psalm 119:33-40, which is a response to the OT text.
Romans 13:8-14, which explains how loving one another fulfills the law.
Matthew 18:15-20, which deals with church discipline.

Luther said there were two, possibly three, "uses" of the Law. First use--it is given by God to help order society and protect the creation (including us). Second use--the Law gives us the knowledge of our sins. When you contemplate the ten commandments in relationship to your behavior--you find that try as you will, they are impossible to keep totally. This drives you into God's arms crying, "mercy!" The third use occurs after we are made children of God. The Law becomes a guideline for godly living.

The OT text from Ezekiel demonstrates God's desire for the Law to govern the relationships not only between God and humankind, but also between people. God repeatedly warned Israel to act responsibly towards God and fellow creatures, but to no avail!

The Psalm response highlights the psalmists desire to know and understand the Law, and help in keeping it. He realizes that without God's help and grace, he is doomed.

Paul's great work of theology, Romans, succinctly states what scholars then write books about. Case in point - today's reading. All the commandments boil down to this he says--love one another!He encourages the Romans (and us) to live lives that exemplify that credo--to live in the light and leave the dark night of our sinfulness behind.

The Gospel of Matthew is the only one to mention the word "church." It is theorized that Matthew's church (to which he intended the gospel be read) needed a focus in this direction, due to its makeup. And so Matthew inserted the word church into some of Jesus' teachings (where it wouldn't compromise the meaning.) You can accept that or not. But outlined here by Christ is the third use of the law in action. It calls for the fair handling of sin, meticulously mapped out and systematic--yet spiritual.
[Note that the offender who doesn't repent at all is to be treated as a "Gentile or tax collector." We know how they are treated by Jesus. They are redeemed!

Who Is Jesus? Sermon 08/24/08

2008-08-25T10:16:00.002-04:00

Who is Jesus?

There are many answers to that question.

In our modern days, we pretty much define ourselves. But in ancient Palestine, one’s identity was given by others—who they thought you were, you were. We see this notion reflected in the scriptures over and over, as characters are introduced—most of them without names. A woman with a bleeding disorder, a Geneserene demoniac, a little boy, a centurion, a Samaritan woman, a scribe. Who they are is determined by those others who define them.

So, who is Jesus? To the people in his time, Jesus was a Nazarene, from Galilee. The son of Joseph the carpenter, and of Mary. They had watched him grow up. They had hired him to make things for them. He was like any other neighbor and tradesman. So, when he started to teach and do signs of wonder—they were perplexed by this aberration from their comfort zone. And when he taught in their synagogue, saying that the scriptures came to pass as he read them, they said, “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son?” Then they went to throw him off a cliff. They said he had a demon. They said he had lost his mind. They didn’t know who he was anymore.

“Who do the people say that I am?” Jesus asks of his disciples, again identity was traditionally conferred upon one by others. The answers? John the Baptist. Elijah. Jeremiah. One of the prophets, they don’t know which. The answers revealed their confusion and their inability to locate this man within the confines of their own experience and the limits of their descriptive language. They just couldn’t place him. He was an enigma.
“But who do all of you say that I am?” is Jesus’ follow-up question to the disciples. Because they know him differently. They’ve seen and heard some fantastic things. Miraculous healings, new and authoritative teachings, They had witnessed Jesus getting the better of powerful people—Pharisees, scribes, priests. And they had observed him deal compassionately with the poor, the sick, and the outcasts of society. They knew more about Jesus, and could describe him better than anyone else in all of Israel, save for his mother. Still, the disciples hesitate when asked this question. Who is Jesus—who is this person who called them away from their livelihoods and led them all over the countryside, preaching repentance and the good news of the coming of the kingdom ?
Finally Peter, big old loveable buffoon Peter, answers. But instead of something wildly inappropriate, what he says is profound. His answer is the first creed of the church. “You are the Messiah, Son of the living God.” Even Jesus is taken aback by the truth of the claim. “You didn’t come up with that yourself, Peter,” he says, “and you didn’t learn that from someone else. No, such an answer can only come from God!” Jesus is defined by no one but God alone. But even that definition is bound to be challenged. Others have already decided just who the Messiah will be, and it does not include eating with sinners and touching lepers and preaching against the religious status quo. Jesus tells his disciples to keep the Messiah stuff to themselves.

So, who is Jesus? The scriptures are filled with titles and names for Jesus. Lord, Son of God, Son of David, Son of Man, son of Mary, bright morning star, Emmanuel, redeemer, savior, King of Kings, King of the Jews, rabbi, teacher, friend, Prince of Peace, Lamb of God, healer, Wonderful Counselor, mediator, high priest, master, the Word, the way, the truth, the life, the resurrection and the life, the Good Shepherd, The Vine, The sower of seeds, and exorcist. To name but a few. But that’s what the bible says about Jesus. But who do you say that he is?

Who is Jesus in our modern world? If he were here in this room today—would we recognize him? Would we listen to him as he implored us to sell everything we own and give the money to the poor? As he led us not to green pastures and beside still waters, but into conflict with the powers and principalities of a world turned away from God? Or would we “throw him off a cliff?”
Would we even know Jesus? Or would our own constructions of Jesus, our own personal Jesus, the toned down, undemanding, sanitized, non-controversial Jesus of our imaginations prevent us from seeing Jesus as he is known to the Father and the Holy Spirit? Who is Jesus? Is he who we want him to be? No, he is I AM. He is who he will be.

That doesn’t sit well with our modern day society. It demands everything and everyone be labeled and categorized, So who Jesus is ranges from Messiah and Son of the living God, to great teacher, to moral leader, to legendary figure, to just a man. The way Jesus is depicted in art reveals a lot about who people say Jesus is. The slide show you are seeing shows Jesus reverently, and somewhat irreverently—but both tell us something about how people perceive Jesus.
Even the silliest one—which perhaps you couldn’t read, the one that depicted Jesus playing hockey with a little boy, who yells, “I didn’t know you played hockey,” to which Christ replies, “It’s easy when you’re Jesus. LOL!” Even that dubiously denoted work of “art” shows that Jesus is perceived as being able to do anything. Even play hockey!

Some of the other pictures are familiar and comfortable—Jesus with the children, Jesus teaching. Jesus standing at the door, knocking. Some seek to show another facet of Jesus—the laughing Jesus, the angry Jesus, the compassionate Jesus. Some see Jesus’ face in different shades—white, brown, black. Some are of what I would call the genre “Pop-Jesus,” which represents Jesus as a pop icon, an fashionable accessory to a full life. Some mock Jesus, much as the Roman soldiers did when Christ was crucified, revealing a segment whose disbelief is both profound and outspoken.
Which depictions of Jesus attract you? Which offend you? Why do they offend—because they are irreverent, or because they show a side of Jesus that seems “un-Jesus-like?” Who do you say that the Son of Man is?

Like with Peter, the answer comes to us, not from our own imaginations, and not from someone telling us what to believe. It comes from God. God alone defines the Son of Man for us. God puts it in our hearts that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God. We experience Jesus. And by that I mean that in our lives there are moments where Jesus is revealed to us. This happens in many different ways. In family and friends who gather together to be with a loved one who’s dying. In the lyrics of a praise song or hymn. Through the act of serving others altruistically. By the witness of our parents and elders. In the sacraments—the waters of baptism that instill the Spirit within us, and the table of the Lord, around which all the people of God of all times and places gather as one. Jesus is revealed to us so that we may believe and confess him as Lord and savior.

So who is Jesus? To you? Think of your answer for today, this minute, in just a word. And then when you have it—call it out. Now tell it to your neighbor. And now repeat after me:

Jesus, you are the Messiah,
The Son of the living God.
You are Lord.
You are Lamb.
You are my redeemer.
You are my hope.
You are life.
You are Jesus,
Messiah, Son of the living God!

Amen.

Faith question 1

2008-08-21T10:25:00.001-04:00

What happens to us when we die?

That's a good question, and a somewhat confusing one.

Of course the answer is "we go to heaven," but that doesn't tell us when, where, how, why, and who. Let me try to reduce some of the confusion, while prefacing my remarks with the caveat that no one knows everything for certain. The scriptures speak in metaphor for the most part--using images and words we can understand to describe a reality that's beyond all earthly comparisons. Jesus himself was not too detailed in his descriptions of the kingdom of heaven--again he used analogy, simile, and metaphor to reveal the principles of God's reign. So there are certain things we can say for sure, and a whole lot we just could never grasp, or we don't need to know--based on what we do. Let's have a look...

When? Of course after we die--but is it immediate? Jesus' words from the cross, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise." suggest an instantaneous transition. In Paul's letters, however, Paul writes of the Day of the Lord--when all those who have died in Christ will rise and be caught up in the skies. Which is right? First, we need take into account that in the original language of Koine Greek, the New Testament had no punctuation. So adding it can sometimes shape belief in one direction or another. Look how the meaning changes when the comma is moved: Truly I tell you today, you will be with me in paradise. So when do we go to heaven? This is a little complicated but here's what I think. On earth, alive, we are in the confines of time--an hour is an hour, a day is a day. When we die we "step" outside of time. So our bodily resurrection occurs without time as a frame of reference. It is as if it were immediate. We rest in peace on earth, waiting, but exist in eternity already.

Who? Only those who recognize Jesus as Lord? What about those who never heard of Jesus, those who die before hearing, or those who refuse to hear? This is where Lutheran theology is really helpful. "I believe of my own understanding or strength, I can not believe in Jesus Christ my Lord, or come to him..." It's not our doing--God in Christ saves. Those who haven't heard and those who die before they are baptised aren't penalized for what was beyond their control. And those who follow other religious paths--from what we know about God (who will be all in all, who so loved the world, who opened his arms to all on the cross) we can confidently leave such matters up to God's goodness. Those who reject God, who have turned their back on God--that's one description of hell--being apart from God. But the creed tells us that even those in hell are not given up for lost, but are released by the crucified and risen christ.

Why? This one is easy. Becuase Jesus died on the cross and was raised from the dead, our sins are forgiven and we are given new life that lasts beyond time. Why does God do this? Love is the only answer!

Where and what? What is heaven like, where is it? The simple answer to this is--we don't know exactly. What we do know is that all that is wrong with our temporal world is redeemed "in" heaven. Most of our intuitions about heaven are suggested by scriptures trying to describe the indescribable, or to make a point about the differences between heaven and earth.

This is a big topic and a short essay. Again what we don't know is oversahdowed by what we do know--that God is love, and that when we die that love does not. We become part of it.

Cheap Veep

2008-08-20T09:20:00.002-04:00

"To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. My God, I put my trust in you..." Psalm 25

Are you on the list of people who will be texted the name of Obama's running mate before the press has it? It's another layer of mystery, intrigue, and speculation over what is really a mundane decision. Who will be "number 2?" It's interesting, and I'm sure it's important in the respect that the Vice President may become President in a tragic situation, but - my word - what alotts hoopla over this! Everyone knows the Veep lurks in the shadows of government while his president gets all the good press! It can't be that hard a job--people even volunteer to be VP of the church council!!

Hold onto that thought.

A while back a popular bumper sticker read, "Jesus is my co-pilot!" I always considered that to be faulty theology. If you truly are a disciple, then your place is following not leading. "Jesus, savior, pilot me" as the words to the famous hymn go. If Jesus is in the number two position in your life, then that means you're following your own flight plan--which might be okay in calm weather, but when the turbulence of life hits, it's a comfort to know that Jesus is at the controls.

The other day, Pastor Rick Warren, pastor of Saddleback megachurch in California, and author of The Purpose Driven Life, interviewed both candidates--asking them about the issues in relationship to a faith perspective (admittedly of a more conservative nature). Basically, my feeling is that he was trying to determine if they put matters of Christian faith first, or make them second tier in their decision-making. Was Jesus just a running mate, a cheap Veep, or did the candidates put him first in their lives?

Well, I fear it's not as easy to determine as all that. Couldn't people of faith be on either side of an issue--even based on the same scriptures? We've seen that even within the ELCA--which one might say is a fairly homogenous entity. Does this mean that all is relative and there is no absolute truth? I don't think so. What I think is that there has to be conversation and moral deliberation between people of different opinions. And that includes more listening then speaking. We need to listen to one another and find common ground in our faithful witness. Instead of drawing lines in the sand. To do this, we need the presence of Jesus to guide us, and the example of his life, death, and life to inform us.

That's why it's important that Jesus come first in our lives.

(And by the way--my guesses for VP choices are: R- Mitt Romney, D- Joe Biden)

A Firm Foundation

2008-08-19T10:07:00.002-04:00

To read this Sunday's scripture click here:

http://divinity.library.vanderbilt.edu/lectionary/apentecost/aProper16.htm

If you build a house with no foundation, that house is susceptible to damage or even destruction. It has no stability and is shaken by the least tremor, and rots away from contact with the earth.
If you build a faith without a foundation, that faith is susceptible to damage and destruction in times of calamity, and is shaken by doubt and eventually rots away from contact with the world.

That's the thread I see running through the lessons this week.
- Isaiah calls upon Israel to remember their ancestors' faith and claim it as their inheritance--a firm foundation for times of trouble and a source of joy at all times.
- Jesus establishes the church on the statement of faith that Peter gives in response to the question "Who do you say that I am?"
- Paul writes that the foundation of a faith played out in the world is being a "living sacrifice," dedicating our whole beings to Christ and using our gifts in service to him.
- Psalm 138 rejoices in the relationship we are blessed to share with God--a relationship in which God listens to us and acts on our behalf. This is the "house" that is built on the foundation of faith.

Who are your "ancestors" in the faith--people who really influenced you on your journey?

Who do you say Jesus is for you?

What are your gifts that you can share in building up the church?

Outside In (sermon 08/17/08)

2008-08-18T09:01:00.003-04:00

Where do you get your news? Television? “Fair and balanced,” or the other one? Radio? Anyone count on the radio to keep them in the know? The internet! Blogs, and vlogs, and RSS feeds, social networking systems, and streaming quicktime video on the old broadband. (I have no idea what that is—broadband. Is that like The Dixie Chicks? Where do you get your news? It’s estimated that a good percentage of our young adults rely on Jon Stewart and Steve Colbert for their national and world news. And those shows are news satires!

Does anyone get their news from this—a newspaper? I know, I know, it’s archaic, it’s full of ads, the type is too small, and the ink gets all over your fingers. And more importantly, there’s no “breaking news” coverage with cool graphics and theme songs. A newspaper only contains news that’s locked in place by the shackles of time, frozen forever in the cold river of past experience. That and the comics—gotta see what ol’ Garfield’s up to today.

Anyway! It’s that quality of being able to represent a specific moment in time that interests me today. A moment in time—what was happening, who was who, and so on. If I wanted to know what Amherst was like in the 1940’s, I would only have to strain my brain enough to get my bod over to the library and rummage through the back issues of the local paper. Newspapers are artifacts that reveal the economic, political and, even more so, the social aspects of specific moments in time. They tell us what our society is, or was, like.

Each year since I don’t know when, one of America’s great newspapers, The Washington Post, takes a newsprint snapshot of daily life in our fair country, putting out a list that is the ultimate indicator of just where society is right now, after taking into consideration its recent past. You know this prestigious and frightfully important sociological record of American life, right? The name of the list is In and Out. Brilliant! Second only to Letterman’s Top Ten.

So here, without further ado, is what’s in and what’s out for 2008. Well maybe just one bit of ado. And that’s just to let you know I’m actually headed somewhere with all this-so sit tight! What’s in and out for 2008…

• Ecotourism is out. Staycations are in.
• Wanting to be president since you were five is out. Wanting to be Oprah since you were five is in!
• Miles Drentel is out. Don Draper is in.
• OMG, look at my Dad’s jeans! Out. In: OMG, look at my Dad’s Facebook page! (OMG being of course Oh My Gosh)
• Speaking of Facebook…Sudoku is out. Scrabulous is in. (Until it was out due to copyright issues.)
• And finally…Out—Kids addicted to Wii. In—Grandmas addicted to Wii.

Ahhhh, to be in! That’s everyone’s secret wish, isn’t it? To be in! To cease being an outsider—a geek, a nerd, a loser—and to instead hang with the “in” crowd. To bask in the reflected glory of that stellar gathering of … well—innies! To be with it, up to date, hip, cool, rad, awesome, dope, baaad, I’m afraid I don’t know the “in” word to use about being in.

I guess that’s because I’ve always been somewhat of an outsider myself. Not way outside—not like in the wilderness, not the deep, dark jungle of outside—but definitely in the outskirts of in-ness—the suburbs of cool. A moderate outsider. Like I was usually picked next to last for dodge ball teams. I didn’t hang out at school after the bell—I went home and watched The Munsters. I was in the marching band, not on the football squad. I was in the chorus of the school’s musical—never a lead.
But I did have some “in” qualities. I liked to crack jokes in class—even at the least opportune times. That won me some innie admiration—and a few hours detention! I drew a good caricature of Mr. Heroy the math teacher. That gave me some street cred. And I played guitar—always a plus in any social situation.
So, I wasn’t all that nerdy. In fact, I was up just close enough to the in crowd that I could catch the sweet, elusive, and heady fragrance of popularity, and I longed to be in there with them. I was like the little street urchin, face pressed against the cold glass of the restaurant window, staring with deep desire at both the feast and feasters.

Let me in! Let me in! (Oh, sorry—lost my composure for a second there!)

But you get the picture. Those on the outside are destined to dream of one day being inside. And those on the inside are obligated to keep others out. That’s the way it works. Otherwise out would be in and in would be out and other confusing stuff like that—there’s just no way around it. So there’s an in crowd for just about any cultural sector—be it fashion, academia, the playground, sports teams, the office, church, ah…what? Did I say church? I hope I did cause that’s what’s written here.
Yes, there is a tendency towards labeling the “in” and “out” even within the religious realm. The firm foundation for this is, perhaps surprisingly, scriptural. God chooses Abraham, out of whom is raised a people who are favored by God above all others. Israel is “in.” God’s holy people. Everyone else—gentile, not Jew, outsiders.
Now, from God’s perspective this isn’t a bad thing. But in the hands of human beings such information can go to one’s head. And it did. The people of Israel got cocky—and they laid a thick layer of exclusivity over the simple commandments that God gave them to order their lives.
To be “in” was now a matter of how well one kept the “law,” strict codes designed to ensure that there be no possible was a commandment would be breached. This, unfortunately, had the effect of alienating some of their own crowd. Making insiders out. Like the woman with hemorrhages—unclean because of blood flow. She’s out. The ten lepers—unclean because of their condition. They’re out. Or the disciples themselves. Today’s gospel picks up right after the disciples have a run in with the Pharisees—the “innie police.” They ask Jesus why his disciples don’t follow the ritual of hand washing before meals. For them, this places Jesus’ friends decidedly out.. What did Jesus have to say to that?

Speaking to all the Pharisees rules and regulations regarding eating—what you could eat, where, when, how, and with whom—Jesus negated each and every one, saying cleverly that it’s not the food or unwashed hands that go in your mouth that makes one “unclean.” It was what came out of the mouth, brought up by the heart turned to evil—that’s what defiled a person. In simpler terms, for Jesus, being out has to do with being opposed to God. Being in is to be caught up in God’s love. And God wants all that’s out to be in. All in all.
That’s a radical notion for us humans. We’re so focused on being in and keeping those we consider to be out, out, that we sometimes fail to recognize that, as we say in the Eucharistic prayer, “on the cross Jesus opened his arms to all.” For those Pharisees that meant adherence to their restrictive codes didn’t define Israel as God’s people. God defined that.

And from what the gospel says today, that definition was even more expansive than Jesus realized. The Canaanite woman is worse than unclean—she is a pagan. About as far outside as you could get—plus she has a sick daughter. She comes to Jesus asking for the child’s healing. Jesus’ reply? The equivalent of, “Sorry, not my table.” She persists, he resists. She begs. He insults. She is humble, he is, well, it seems to me Jesus is changed by this encounter. Looking at her, a foreign pagan woman, he is inspired to see instead a child of God. And, at that moment, the mission of God breaks loose from Israel and spills out into the rest of the world. God in Christ is turning the outside in!

How does this impact us—here, today? Well, obviously it is the explanation of how we became part of God’s chosen people. The love flows first into Israel and then out to the world. Paul calls this being grafted on to God’s people.
But this topsy-turvy notion of radical inclusivity is far broader than simply that. So often in the church we look at the people beyond the sanctuary walls as outsiders, who are somewhat inferior due to the fact that they aren’t “one of us.” They are the ones we are to separate ourselves from, for we hold to a higher standard. All while we are talking about evangelism and how we need more members. We want more people to be in, but we want them to be “in” people—and we want them to come in. We don’t think we should go out there to get people in here.
Today’s gospel gives us an opportunity to open our minds to the expansion of our mission here in southern New Hampshire. Lately we’ve been focused on our definition of “in.” A building, pastoral care, Christian education, a place in which we have a place. We established a church here—a place where the word of God is heard and preached and where the sacraments are made available.
It is a good church—a strong church, a generous church, a spirit led church, a servant church. A church that we believe people should want to be “in.” And some who visit here do, and some don’t. And some who come in and become members—some will stay, and some will leave. Caring for these is part of our mission.
But there’s more to it than that. Because what the story of the Canaanite woman teaches is that for God, the outside is in. Which means our vision for mission needs to broaden to accommodate the “outsiders,” for they are the ones whom Jesus came to give the good news to. Outside is in.
The first lesson puts it this way: “the house of the Lord shall be a house of prayer for all the people.” We need to open our eyes to the vast potential of this congregation and determine ways in which this house of God can be for those outside. Ways in which we can get outside of our inside-ness, and welcome the community into a relationship with us, based not on their jumping through hoops to be “in” with us, but based on God’s inclusion of them already!
For that’s the good news that we proclaim today. That with God there is no inside or outside, there’s only God’s side. Amen

Peace and War

2008-08-13T10:31:00.002-04:00

The Olympics are about peaceful competition--people doing their best and achieving all sorts of measures of excellence. Politics are not supposed to intermix with the pure motives of the games.

But this time, as in just about every Olympiad past, the world intruded. China's political situation visa vie Tibet, and their less than stellar record on human rights were glaringly and unavoidable visible, despite the government's far-reaching attempts to project a different image of itself. Then Russia made a military incursion into its neighbor, Georgia, and pictures of bombed out buildings and refugees vied with medal ceremonies for the top spot on the evening news. It seems the spirit of the games is nothing less ephemeral than just that.

Perhaps the "peace" of the Olympics is ultimately unsatisfying because it is an incomplete peace. God's peace, to the contrary, is not. It is a fuller conception of peace that might be better described as "well-being." In God's peace all are at rest, because all experience God's abundance. Each has total wellness of body, mind, and spirit. There is no unrest because all share equally in the goodness that God has given us. There is no enmity for all are reconciled through Christ. When we share the peace of the Lord at the beginning of the Lord's Supper, it is that peace we both convey upon one another, and call upon God to provide for us.

Because this peace can not come from competing--not in sports or militarily, not even in diplomacy (though that is the best recourse leading to that kind of peace). No, the peace of God can come only from God--we can either help it along, resist it, or get out of its way! How do we help God provide peace for the world?

It's called "hastening the kingdom." Blessed by God and equipped for ministry, we strive to reproduce here on earth what Jesus represented as the kingdom of heaven. This we do by sharing resources, working for justice, and loving both neighbor and enemy.

Perhaps this little story will explain it metaphorically. It was the day of the Special Olympics and the runners were ready for the fifty meter run. The pistol cracked, the runners took off, and the race was on--five young boys with Down's Syndrome running their hardest towards the finish line. Then something happened. One fell down. And then the others stopped, went back to him, gave him hugs until he stopped crying. And then, hand in hand, they ran across the finish line together!

That's the peace which passes all understanding. May God deliver it to us!

Looking In

2008-08-12T09:14:00.003-04:00

The lessons discussed this week are: Isaiah 56:1,6-8; Romans 11:1-2a,29-32; Matthew 15:10-28.

The readings this week all speak of God's radical inclusion of those on the outside. Isaiah says that the LORD's house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations. Likewise Jesus realizes in the Canaanite woman's reply to his initial rebuff an expansion of God's favor beyond the people of Israel to include the Gentiles. Paul writes in Romans that this doesn't mean the people of God have been replaced, however--God's call and grace are irrevocable.

What does this mean for us? I'm thinking that we often think of ourselves as either unworthy of being "in" with God, or already there - by our own merit. The former way of thinking is, of course, preferable to the latter--which is Pharisaic (check Jesus' conversation with the disciples early in the passage). But we can have faith that we have been made acceptable to God through Jesus Christ--who included all sorts of "outsiders" in his Kingdom.

When were you an outsider? Did you experience God's radical inclusivity? Think about how you might include in God's love someone on the fringes of life and faith.

Honk if you love Jesus!

2008-08-11T17:50:00.003-04:00

Back to Work

2008-08-11T09:53:00.002-04:00

Hi folks! I'm back from a rather soggy vacation--but restful.

Something new for the blog...posts will be simultaneously tacked up on the Messiah website. So you can visit there for your snacks, and pick up the latest news from church, see the worship assistant lists, newsletters, announcements, etc all in one stop!Hope that's helpful!

I'd also like to announce a change in content for the blog. I'll be posting as much as possible with my schedule, but on Mondays the post will be the sermon from the day before, Tuesdays will be a look at the lessons for the next Sunday (to get you thinking--and me too), Wednesdays will be about a current event and how it intersects with our faith, Thursdays will either be a bible study or the answer to a faith question. Friday through Sunday are wild cards!I hope to be using more media in my posts--MP3s, videos, pictures, art.

So, back to work. If you're on vacation this week, sorry about the rain left over from mine! Be well, have faith, serve the Lord!

Rain, rain go away!

2008-08-06T19:42:00.003-04:00

Here we are on the third week away from home and almost every day has been rainy! Here's the view from our porch at the lake house...

Still, I won't complain--it's been a restful time.

Soon it will be back to civilization!

Do you believe in miracles? (sermon 8/3/08)

2008-08-03T21:11:00.002-04:00

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

08.08.08. Do you know what I’m referring to? Let me give you a hint…(Olympic theme). 888. That’s the opening day of the Summer Olympics in Beijing, China. Coming up this Friday. So there’ll soon be hours of television coverage of events—swimming, diving, track and field, team sports like softball and basketball, and of course that timeless classic Olympic sport—beach volleyball! Not to mention the gymnastics. I’d like not to mention them, since they overshadow most of the other less popular sports like the equestrian events and archery for instance. That and I find gymnastics to be frightfully boring. Sorry, I’m just saying—it does nothing for me. It’s okay if you like it—just me, not so much.

In fact, truth be told (and church is the place for truth) truth be told—I don’t find the Summer Olympics to be enjoyable much at all. You won’t find me glued to the old flat screen, watching China and Japan battle it out for Ping Pong gold. I won’t be rushing out to get HDTV so I can count the beads of sweat on the weightlifters’ mighty brows. I just don’t find the summer games to be terribly compelling. Maybe it’s because it’s summer and it’s hot and I’m cranky.

Because I don’t feel the same way about the Winter Olympics. Those I love. Slalom, the super G, ski jumping (the thrill of victory the agony of defeat), the luge, biathlon, and curling (which, by the way is still only a demonstration sport!). The sports are just way cooler in my humble opinion. And the athletes are way more colorful as well. Who could ever forget the Jamaican bobsled team, for instance, or Eddie the Eagle, or Tomba.

And, of course, the 1980 American Olympic hockey team—made up of college students, not professionals like it is now. Kids really, vying for Olympic glory against the mighty Soviet Union team in the semifinals, and the Finnish team for the gold. Who can forget those last ten seconds of the final game? America up 4 to 2 after trailing the Finns for most of the game, crowd going wild, announcers screaming the countdown—6,5,4,3,2,1 and then one of them breaking in over the buzzer that ended the game, shouting, “Do you believe in miracles? Yes! Unbelievable!” The United States had been granted a miracle—a win over Finland. (Sorry Arja!)

And what I want to know is this: Do you believe in miracles? Well, do ya?

Biblical miracles, that is. Like in today’s gospel, in which Jesus serves over five thousand folks dinner al fresco. On the menu… five loaves of peasant bread and two dried fish, graciously donated by a young boy in the crowd. Slim pickings for such an endeavor. Hardly enough for just Peter, to say the least. But somehow, it was enough…and there were twelve super-sized doggie bags filled with leftovers once every one had had their fill. (Someone had a tasty leftover fish sandwich that night!) Jesus had fed a multitude with a handful of food! A miracle! A miracle?

Most of us have no problem believing in Jesus as the Son of God. But the miracles of Christ—they present a problem for our scientific reasoning minds. So, some interpret this fantastic feeding as a “lesson in sharing.” The thought being that when Jesus had the crowd sit down for supper, and he publicly blessed the little boy’s meager, yet enthusiastically offered loaves and fishes, it shamed those who had also brought food along with them but hid it for themselves. Shamed them into pulling out their loaves, fishes, tuna sandwiches and hardboiled eggs to share with their neighbors. Somehow this seems more plausible for those who are a little uncomfortable with Jesus’ miracles.

And, just like with Olympic gymnastics, you can hold to that theory if you want and I promise not to order you burned at the stake. But it seems to me to be what theologians like you and I would call a “hermeneutical jump,” an “exegetical leap”—or, to use the vernacular, reading between the lines. Down south they’d put it this way—“That dog just won’t hunt!” Do you believe in miracles? I don’t think so.

What is a miracle after all? Philosopher David Hume wrote that:
A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined. Why is it more than probable, that all men must die; that lead cannot, of itself, remain suspended in the air; that fire consumes wood, and is extinguished by water; unless it be, that these events are found agreeable to the laws of nature, and there is required a violation of these laws, or in other words, a miracle to prevent them? Nothing is esteemed a miracle, if it ever happen in the common course of nature. It is no miracle that a man, seemingly in good health, should die on a sudden: because such a kind of death, though more unusual than any other, has yet been frequently observed to happen. But it is a miracle, that a dead man should come to life; because that has never been observed in any age or country. There must, therefore, be a uniform experience against every miraculous event, otherwise the event would not merit that appellation....

So a miracle is something that defies experience grounded in the laws of nature. It’s something that has no logical, natural explanation. Like turning water into wine. Like healing a blind man. Like calming the wind and waves of the sea. Like raising the dead. Like feeding five thousand men with the equivalent of a value meal from McDonalds. In Hume’s thought, these all would qualify as miracles—if they proved to be true.

And how does one go about “proving” a miracle? Hume answers this as well:

The plain consequence is (and it is a general maxim worthy of our attention), 'That no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would be more miraculous, than the fact, which it endeavours to establish....' When anyone tells me, that he saw a dead man restored to life, I immediately consider with myself, whether it be more probable, that this person should either deceive or be deceived, or that the fact, which he relates, should really have happened. I weigh the one miracle against the other; and according to the superiority, which I discover, I pronounce my decision, and always reject the greater miracle. If the falsehood of his testimony would be more miraculous, than the event which he relates; then, and not till then, can he pretend to command my belief or opinion.

If the miracle not being true is more implausible than the miracle itself, then you
can say you’ve got a miracle on your hands. Using Hume’s definitions and theories, then, the likelihood of a miraculous event are slim to none—even biblical ones. So, parting of the Red Sea? More likely the wind and the currents did it. Noah and the flood? Melting polar icecaps are a reasonable explanation. Jesus walking on the water and Peter sinking? Didn’t Jesus tell him where the stepping stones were? Feeding five thousand with loaves and fish? They shared—makes sense.

Except that is not what the text says! It says Jesus took the food, looked up to heaven, blessed it, and then broke it into pieces for the disciples to hand out to the people And all ate and were filled. That’s what Matthew says. That’s what Mark says too. And Luke. And even the gospel of John reports this occurrence. It’s the only miracle story to make it into all four accounts of Jesus’ ministry. In biblical scholarly circles, that spells confidence high of the event having happened.

Do we have proof? Quite the contrary, according to Hume. But we don’t need proof. Why not? Because, as even Hume admits, religion requires not reason and logic, but trust and faith. Faith in that which cannot be seen, heard, or explained away by human beings. Miracles, it has been said, are experienced most through eyes of faith—in which even the mundane can be miraculous, and the miraculous can become mundane.

So is that the “moral of the story?” That we should have faith and believe in miracles? That if we say, “I believe in miracles!” loud enough and long enough our wish will come true like with Tinkerbell at the end of the play Peter Pan? That God will provide miraculously for those in need—even those in need of a win over the Finnish hockey team? (again, sorry Arja!)

We know, through experience, that this isn’t the way the world works, nor is it how miracles work. Five thousand not counting the women and children were fed that night in Israel. That doesn’t mean they never went hungry again. And there are millions of people starving to death—right now—and God doesn’t feed them miraculously.
We say things like, “God will provide,” and “God never gives you more than you can bear.” We sing hymns that say, “I’m leaning on the everlasting arms—what have I to fear…safe and secure from all alarms?” Do we find any of these to be the way we experience hardship and loss and pain? Do we see it reflected in our world? No…and yes.

No, we aren’t cured or fed by platitudes, and though we may be comforted by a familiar hymn, there’s part of us, I think, that just can’t believe God is even present, much less in their corner, doing something!

But yes. Yes, with the strength of a community of believers surrounding us, we can experience peace and fulfillment where it seemed impossible to do so before. The sick can experience healing, if not a cure. The hungry can be fed, if we have the will to do it. There can be heartache and strife in our lives, and still we can feel cradled in God’s arms through the arms of another.

Yes, Virginia, there is a God and we know that God is loving and cares for the creation, especially for us. We know because the miracles point to it—even if you don’t believe they actually occurred, or if you want to explain the away logically. The miracle stories of Jesus are a testimony—a testimony that Jesus of Nazareth, is God’s Christ, and even more so, with the Father and the Spirit, Jesus is God! A testimony that comes to us over the ages, through the mouths of hundreds of witnesses to the gospel, passing through the pens and minds of those who captured it for eternity on paper. Jesus told his followers that if they could not believe through his words in teaching with parables—then to believe because of the signs. In the same way, I encourage you to use the miracle stories as signs. Signs of a reality that is here now in Jesus Christ. Signs that point to the way God’s kingdom will operate, some day. Signs that reveal the kingdom operating in our broken world already in fits and starts. Forget proof and logic and believe that this story shows us a God who is compassionate, who works to relieve people’s problems, who uses a scarcity of earthly things to do things abundantly, who uses followers to distribute blessings to everyone, and who feeds us still with bread broken and wine poured.

Do you believe in miracles? This sermon perhaps raises more questions than it gives answers. Sometimes a sermon does that. But questions of faith will always outnumber the answers we come up with. And sometimes the answers we come up with are fairly ambiguous. And that’s okay. It’s when we think we got it all figured out that the real problems begin! AMEN

Taking her easy

2008-07-29T10:11:00.001-04:00

I am on vacation through the 10th of August, but will post when the spirit moves me.

Nearer the Kingdom to Thee

2008-07-24T16:56:00.003-04:00

How does the notion that God comes to us relate to the parables of the kingdom that Jesus tells in this coming Sunday's gospel?

Could it be that Jesus is hinting that the kingdom is nearer to us than we perceive? That the small glimpses of the kingdom we get in this world somehow reveal the immensity of its impact on our world? Like a small mustard seed. Like a small pearl. And these open our eyes to the closeness of God.

So "nearer to thee" doesn't refer to us being closer and closer to God, but the other way around! God's kingdom is nearer and nearer---slowly enveloping us in its light.

So, even though I came to that title from left field, I think it's a good one. Would be better if that Jacob's ladder tie in was really a part of the day's readings--but hey, inspiration works in mysterious ways!

I'll go to work on that sermon now. And it'll be about how God comes nearer to us in Jesus Christ and the kingdom of heaven. Hope you're in church to hear it!

More on "Nearer..."

2008-07-24T16:50:00.002-04:00

I think I have it figured out.

I have been working with two weeks’ texts in order to get ready to preach at Calumet, and to preach when I get home after a week there. So, the two have become garbled a bit. And here’s what probably happened: I looked at the lessons for 7/20 while organizing things for 7/27. One of the appointed lessons for this past Sunday was the story of Jacob’s dream—Jacob’s Ladder. (This was an alternate reading, so it’s even more ridiculous that I focused in on it.)

Having the notion that this was one of the readings, I must have seen Nearer My God to Thee mentioned in reference to the Ladder text (it;s loosely based on it says Wikipedia.

Probably I then recalled one of the first textbooks I used in my seminary career—Where God Meets Man, by Jensen, I believe. His main premise was that most of us have a Jacob’s Ladder paradigm when we think about salvation—we think we need to ascend the ladder to get to God. While what really is going on is God is coming down to us! Grace! Nearer my God to thee!

Now how does that fit into these parables of Jesus? I have an idea, but I’m going to let it cook in my head for a while before I serve it up. And I’d love to add your thoughts to the mix. Email or comment will be great.

Conjecture

2008-07-23T12:46:00.000-04:00

Nearer to thee. What was I thinking? There’s a hymn with those words: Nearer, my God, to thee / nearer to thee. Legend has it that the musicians on board the Titanic played that hymn as the ship went down. It’s strange that this would have anything at all to do with Jesus’ parables, but what else could it be? Perhaps there’s some line in the lyrics that keyed me in. When I go over for lunch I’ll research that and post this.

In the meantime—how do you think Nearer to Thee relates to Jesus’ parables of the kingdom?

From Calumet...

2008-07-22T19:56:00.000-04:00

This week I’m going to have a bit of a mystery to solve before I can construct the sermon for Sunday. You see, I pick the hymns and often the sermon titles way before the actual date. The hymns are chosen for several reasons—compatibility with the scripture of the day, the season of the church year, the theme of the sermon, or because it’s a favorite or a new song I’d love to teach you all. The sermon titles often come as inspiration as I read the lessons for the day, and the brief commentary included in Sundays and Seasons, the book that helps me plan worship. A sudden flash of insight, and I write it down.

Then I return to that title several weeks later. Most times I read the title as think, “Oh yeah—I wanted to talk about such and such this week.” Other times, I read it and think, “Whaaaat?” This week is one of the other times.

So for the next few days I’ll be wrestling not only with the text (which is the parables of the mustard seed, etc.), but also with a sermon title that one day made perfect sense, but now, is a puzzlement. Why not just abandon that title, you may ask? It intrigues me, and I feel called to recapture what I had found tucked into this gospel reading. So stay tuned as I report back to you on my quest.

Oh, and the sermon title is: Nearer to Thee.

At Calumet

2008-07-21T17:28:00.001-04:00

Lisa and I are spending the better part of this week at our Lutheran camp Calumet. I am serving as the Family Camp Chaplain. My duties are to preach this past Sunday (to about 500 people!), to do a morning devotion time each weekday morning, conduct a bible study from 9:45 – 10:45 am each day, hold a Vespers service Thursday night, to mix and mingle with the 200 plus campers here in the family campground, and just be available if there’s need of a pastor. In some ways it’s a relaxing week of service, but there’s always the stress of doing your best to reach people—perhaps that’s a good thing after a fashion, too.

I’ll talk more about Calumet as the week goes by—each day there’ll be a blog. I’ll also be talking about constructing the week’s sermon. So do visit the Pantry often this week!

Seed or Weed? Sermon

2008-07-21T17:25:00.000-04:00

Seed or Weed?
Pentecost 10A Calumet 7/20/08
Matt 13:24-30

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

[Music starts, announcer talks over it]

ANNOUNCER: Live, direct from Camp Calumet on the shores of Ossipee Lake, New Hampshire—it’s time to play everyone’s favorite horticultural game show…Seed, or Weed. I’m your announcer, John Junkins, and now here’s the host of Seed or Weed—the one, the only, the devilishly handsome—Pastor Tom Teichmann!!! [holds up applause sign]

TT: Thank you John! And thank you, ladies and gentlemen! [music concludes] Enough…that’s enough. [signals with his hands for more applause!] John, we need seven contestants down here.

ANNOUNCER: Right! [ad lib (come on down!) as he picks seven contestants, six volunteers and one “ringer,” Ryan B., picked last]

TT: Okay! Welcome to Seed or Weed. Now, before we continue we need a buzzer and a bell. [picks someone to mimic a bell when answer is correct, another to “buzz” when answer is wrong] Now, here’s how we play the game. I will give you the scientific Latin name of a plant and you have 15 seconds to tell me if the plant is a “seed,” a cultivated plant—or an unwanted weed. Any questions? Good! Then what time is it Johnny?

ANNOUNCER: It’s time to play Seed…or Weed!!

[ad lib the game with the first six – following dialog used as needed]

TT: What has he/she won, Johnny?
A: She’s/he’s won a new car (toy car),
A bottle of bubbly (soap bubbles),
A “Skip Church” coupon (expires July 19th),
A NO-expense paid trip to the camp store!,
This lovely souvenir of Camp Calumet (a rock),
A brand new set of dinner plates (paper).

OR….

TT: Oh, we’re sorry. You’ll get a wonderful consolation prize—the home version of Seed or Weed.

CONTINUES… [finish with Ryan]

TT: Are you ready to play Seed…or Weed? Good! Then here’s the name, and then you’ll have 15 seconds to tell me seed, or weed. [reads card] Ryan B.

Ryan: [pauses to think about it] Hey, that’s me!

TT: Seed or weed? 10 seconds.

Ryan: I don’t get it—how could I be a seed or a weed?

TT: 7 seconds.

Ryan: I need time to think!

TT: 5 seconds, Ryan.

Ryan: [stands there exasperated as the buzzer sounds!] AHHHHHH!

ANNOUNCER: That’s all the time we have. See you next time on Seed, or Weed?

[music up and out]

Taraxacum officinale – Dandelion
Ambrosia artemisifolia – Ragweed
Muhlenbergia schreberi – Nimblewill

Lycopersicon esculentum – tomato
Vaccinium corymbosum L. – blueberry
Zea saccharata – sweet corn

So, I think we can agree—it’s hard to tell if a plant is a seed or a weed, just by hearing even its common name, let alone its Latin name! But I know what you’re really wondering about right now. Is Ryan Bonfiglio a seed or a weed? Is he a little of each? Are we all, a little of each? Kinda left you hanging there. Well, I’m going to leave you dangling a little while longer while I talk about parables in general and the parable of the wheat and the weeds in specific.

And the thing I wanted you to learn about parables today is this: parables can have many meanings. Say that with me…parables can have many meanings. You can get a lot out of a parable. Jesus says his story is about how good and evil exist together in the world, but come judgment day, God will destroy evil once and for always. But just because Jesus explained his story to the disciples in a certain way, doesn’t mean that his explanation exhausts its meaning. I believe there’s still more to discover and learn about, there, between the lines. So, let’s lay Jesus’ interpretation aside for today, shall we? It’s not heresy to do that. And besides--it will save you from having to wrap your heads around big theological words like eschatological, soteriology, and forensic justice.
What I want us to focus on instead is seed…or weed? And I want to explore these two words both as nouns, and as verbs. First as nouns. What is a noun? It’s a person, place or thing. In this case, things. “Seed” being the wheat—the intentionally planted, good, grain producing plant. And “weed” being the invasive, prolific, bad, valueless—well, weed.
Now we know how difficult it is to discriminate between seed and weed using just their scientific names as a point of reference. But I doubt, if we played the game again using pictures of good plants / bad plants, the majority of the contestants would still go home with the home version of “Seed, or Weed?” Because some weeds are very beautiful or have lovely-looking fruit. They appear to be “seeds.” For example, kudzu was introduced into America because some genius thought it would make good ground cover. Yah, it did. But conversely, some seed plants—like the artichoke—you just have to wonder about. Seed, or weed? It’s hard to tell.

When I had my first full time camp job down in Rincon, Georgia, I was put in charge of the extensive grounds. Which was a challenge for me, since back on Long Island, NY where I come from—we’d cut our postage stamp-sized lawns with one of those whirly-gig push mowers, and now here I was using lawn tractors and rotary mowers and weed whackers. One day I set out to whack all the weeds I could find, and at the end of the day, I was proud I’d done so well, having never used such a device before. I was especially happy with the job I’d done whacking the weeds around the tennis court fence. That is until one of the other workers came in and commented on how poorly the English Ivy was doing . The English Ivy that was growing on the tennis court fence. That I had just whacked. Seed, or weed? It’s hard to tell which is which!

And let me tell you—it’s just as difficult to tell the difference between the weeds and the seeds when you’re talking people. Oh, some times it’s not too difficult—the weediest of people are easy to spot—much like the dandelions that pop up on your lawn. Picture in your mind just for a moment a very definite weed you know personally. That was easy wasn’t it? And yet, for the most part, it’s hard to see clearly into another’s heart and determine what lies therein—seed or weed. Indeed, Luther said that we are simultaneously seed and weed, saint and sinner at the same time. So, who are we to lambaste someone for the crabgrass growing in his heart, when we’ve got some serious poison ivy wrapped around ours? Somehow it seems wrong.
Probably because we know the storyteller here. We know Jesus said that he came to cure the sin-sick, not to pat the backs of those who thought they had no sin. We know he associated with sinners, ate with sinners, healed sinners, saved sinners. Jesus sowed the grace of God on a world totally unprepared for the radical nature of its inclusiveness. Jesus didn’t exclude anyone from God’s love. So, what would Jesus have us, as seeds, do with the “weeds” in our lives, our towns, our churches? Which brings us to “seed or weed”—the verbs.

A verb is…an action word. So, seed or weed—which are you? Do you participate in the coming kingdom of God by seeding the world with the love of Christ Jesus? Or are you a weeder, blundering into the field with a righteous zeal, aiming to uproot anything that even smells like a weed, with no consideration for the collateral damage you cause, with no certainty that what you’re destroying is really a weed in the long run? It’s a conscious choice, I believe. Which will you be?
In the parable, the master tells his servants not to gather the weeds before the harvest—to let them live, even though their intertwining roots would compete with the wheat for water and nutrients. That means the seeds and the weeds coexist in the world, a reflection perhaps of our own seediness and weediness. In the end, at the harvest, all will be made right. Until then, we are to hold our impulse to weed in check, and even more so to sprout and grow and participate in the propagation of the kingdom of God! To build us up—not tear down indiscriminately.

Finally, (you know what “finally” means? It’s a preaching term that means ten minutes left to go…) finally, there’s Ryan B. Seed or weed? He’s definitely a “seed” because, as his pastor, I know he’s baptized. And he has grown into a fine young man—an asset to this camp and to Captive Free which he’ll be a member of this coming year. Ryan is a seed and a sower of seeds. What about weed? Well, he does text in church sometimes. And if he’s anything at all like the rest of humanity, there is a certain amount of weediness in him, yearning to take over. Like the rest of us he’ll need to return to the grace of his baptism almost daily to remember who he is, and whose he is. He is a child of God.
To close I invite you to bless the person next to you by making the sign of the cross on their forehead and saying, “You are a child of God!”
Let the people say, amen!

Creation Groans

2008-07-17T09:38:00.002-04:00

In this coming Sunday's second lesson from Romans, St. Paul talks about creation in relation to humanity. He writes, "the creation waits with eager longing fro the revealing of the children of God...for the creation was subjected to futility...by the will of the one that subjected it." Translation--we have caused creation to go off the tracks with sinful selfishness, and it can no longer reach its completion and perfection. This derailment of creation will be reversed though--and it is tied to our redemption and reorientation to God.

Creation groans now, eagerly longing for the birth of re-creation--as do we, as already redeemed, but not yet in the kingdom. Birth isn't an easy activity (or so I'm told). It requires work. But it comes of its own accord.

Re-creation will come of its own accord as well. And yet it is benefited by our cooperation and participation. re-creation is also hard work. We must change our shortsighted ways that deplete the earth instead of build it up. Our sinfulness in this area trickles down to affect the natural world, of which we are a part. That's hard to remedy--it takes perseverance and diligence. Our repentance and changed behavior do help hasten the kingdom along.

So....PUSH!

When a Plan Comes Together

2008-07-15T14:17:00.003-04:00

Ever watch the A-Team (an eighties action TV series)? the A-Team was a bunch of ex-soldiers who were convicted wrongly of a crime and got loose from their army captors, and who go around helping the little guys get justice. They always got into a tight spot and had an elaborate plan (a la McGyver on steroids) for winning against the bad guys and the army mp's who were trying to recapture them. For some reason, they almost always burst out of a building driving some truck or something.

Anyway, when they were triumphant, the leader of the team would deliver the catch phrase: "I love it when a plan comes together!"

I had an A-Team experience the other day here at church. The keyboard gave out on Friday. It was in need of a battery change (which we knew but put off cause we weren't sure how to do it and thought "well enough alone."). And it just quit playing--wouldn't "boot up."

So Monday I called our friend Steve, who is a keyboardist, and who intimated that he would be willing to open the device up and see if we could change te battery ourselves. Otherwise it was ship the thing to CA or NYC.

Here things began to come together. Steve had a friend staying with him. Who happened to have experience with such things. They had been taking day trips around New England, since the friend was from Texas and wanted to see something other than flat! That Monday they were scheduled to go to Maine, and then the friend would fly home.

But as it was--it rained Monday morning. So they didn't go. So the friend came with Steve and worked on the keyboard. And fixed it!

I love it when a plan comes together!

And I thank God who gave this friend a gift for electronics, who led Steve to Messiah, who gave me the courage to attempt to fix it ourselves, and most of all--who made it rain that day. I'm not saying God planned it all. But it was God's providence that brought the plan together through an array of self organizing random factors.

How do you think of God's involvement in the world? I''d be interested to know...

Wasteful Evangelism (sermon)

2008-07-14T10:53:00.000-04:00

Sermon preparation takes up a good portion of my week. There’s lots to do before I can feel confident up here in front of all of you: studying the texts, reading commentaries, interpreting the passage so I can explain its ins and outs to you, and then discerning what message God wants us to hear in this place and time. It takes a good while. A good rule of thumb is, for every minute of sermon preached, one hour of preparation and writing have preceded it.
But this week my job was easy. In today’s gospel, Jesus is nice enough to do the hardest work for me. He provides an explanation of his parable. So, before we even get rolling, you know that the seed is God’s word, right? And that the path represents people who are led astray even before the word takes root. And the rocky ground is people who initially accept the word, but when their faith is tested they fall away. You know that the thorns are the ways of the world that are in opposition to the word—the ones that overcome and kill some people’s fledgling faith. You know all this—cause you can read! And if you forgot your glasses this morning I was honored to have read it to you, so that you would know these things too.
Yes, Jesus explains the whole shebang. And, as if that weren’t enough—the little blurb above the reading in the Celebrate insert makes it clear: “In Matthew’s gospel, both Jesus and his disciples ‘sow the seed’ of God’s word by proclaiming the good news that ‘the kingdom of heaven is near.’ Now, in a memorable parable, Jesus explains why this good news produces different results in those who hear.” There you have it. All tied up neatly with a bow! You shouldn’t even pay me for this week!

But, wait! There’s something in this passage that Jesus didn’t include in his allegorical explanation. There’s something in there that the person who wrote those italicized blurbs in Celebrate chose not to include. But it’s right there. It’s not hidden. It’s not in code. It’s not in the verses that our lectionary left out (they’re about why Jesus taught in parables). No, it’s right there, plain as the nose on your face! That is, if that nose belongs to the face of a farmer, or perhaps a gardener!
Do you see it? Can you guess what I’m talking about? It’s something that most of us pass over without questioning. It’s something that biblical scholars have tried to explain away, but cannot. It’s something that goes way beyond the standard explanation that the early church favored, and that we, ourselves, borrow—the explanation that answers the question, “Why do some people grow and flourish in faith, while others reject it?” Instead, this little tidbit of information turns the salvation equation on its head and points to the grace of God—a grace that is persistent, pervasive, and radically inclusive.
Have you got it yet? Well, let me give you a clue. This is a parable, and parables are supposed to make you think. And the way they do that is they have something in them that causes a disequilibrium—something that shocks the listener. Now the part Jesus explained didn’t include anything shocking in and of itself. The shock isn’t that the seed is the word, or that the sower is whoever’s telling the gospel story, or that three soils are people who reject Christ, and the one that produces abundantly is the disciple who comes to Christ. Those things aren’t shocking. They aren’t even mildly surprising. In fact, they sound perfectly reasonable. So, what is it? I know you’re on the edge of your seat waiting to know. But I think it best if I first give you an illustration that you can relate to—even if you’re not a farmer and your thumbs aren’t green!

Imagine, if you will, that it’s springtime at Messiah Lutheran Church, and all the crocuses and daffodils are blooming, and the lawn is just beginning to green up. You pull into the church driveway and there, of course, is a woman, working away on the landscape. You park your car and sit in it, watching her labor—mainly because it’s hot outside.
But she pays no attention to you but goes about her work, which appears to be re-seeding the lawn in places where the snowplow dug it up this past winter. There is a rich mixture of top soil and fertilizer in those spots. And now she tosses some seed onto the patches.
You reach for the door handle, thinking it safe now to get out. But then you see a strange thing. Some might even call it a shocking thing. (In fact I call it a shocking thing, this is the shocking thing, so listen up.) What you see is this: the woman finishes sowing the grass seed on the prepared patches, then she throws more seed on the unprepared lawn itself. And she tosses more handfuls under the pine trees, where the soil is pretty acidy. “It won’t grow well there—she knows that,” you think to yourself.
But then you rub your eyes in disbelief because she skips down the brick path tossing fistfuls of seed to either side, like a flower girl at a wedding. “What good will the seed do there,” you wonder. You notice that she’s followed closely by two birds and a chipmunk—who eat near as much as she sows! “What is she doing this for?” you exclaim.
Then, just when you think this display is ending, The woman commences sowing the seed right on the parking lot! Including on your car. You’re starting to think that maybe she’s has been out in the hot sun too long! And no sooner does that thought cross your mind then, just for good measure, as the grand finale, she empties the bag of seed in the brambles by the pond!
You are shocked by her over use of seed. You’re shocked by the incomprehensibility of such, such, such extravagance with the seed. To sow it in areas where she knew it would fail to thrive, or not have a chance to sprout at all. It’s inconceivable! It’s wastefulness!

Or is it grace?

God went out to sow the Word, and some people had been called by the Spirit, and prepared for the Word, and the Word became a part of them and increased in proliferate abundance! God liked that!
But God wasn’t rattled when he saw that some were so hardened and stomped on by life that they couldn’t comprehend or feel his love. He gave the Word to them anyway.
And God wasn’t put off by those who said they loved him, but when times got tough, lost faith and cursed his name. He gave the Word to them anyway.
And God didn’t short those who trusted in themselves and their wealth more than they trusted in him. He gave them the Word in equal measure. God is extravagant with the Word.
But is God wasteful? I don’t profess to know the mind of God. But I do know from this parable that God sows the word abundantly regardless of one’s “readiness” for it. Outwardly that appears to be wasteful. But look to the first lesson and its wisdom: For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
God is not wasteful. God is purposeful. God does not give up on the hard of heart, the beaten-down, the shallow-minded, and the those caught up in the world’s idolatry. He purposefully continues to draw them to himself. God never abandons them, he just keeps sowing the word, hoping that one day the soil of their spirits will finally be touched by the Son’s love and made ready for verdant growth. God does not sow in vain. His word accomplishes its purpose—though we may not recognize it, and though it may not occur within our linear sense of time.
That’s the good news! The kingdom of God has come near—very near in the word and the Word made flesh. That’s good news for those who may reject that word initially—God’s word of grace will not cease to whisper in their ears, waiting.
And that’s good news for us, too, because - how many of us have woken up in the morning and felt like nothing could ever penetrate our self-made shells? How many of us are easy-pickings for temptation? How many of us have had the experience of being gung ho for a new ministry at church, but then slunk away when it became hard work? And, truth now, which of us has not been lured by wealth and the things of the world? We all have. (That’s how those lotteries get up to 150 million dollars!) What good news it is that God’s word of grace isn’t withheld from us though we are distracted by the vicissitudes of life, and ignorant of its power to overcome them. God’s word doesn’t return empty, but accomplishes its purpose.
So it’s good news for us, yes—but in a way, it’s bad news for us as well. At least in our heads. It’s bad news for us because we are called to be as wasteful…I mean extravagant…with the Word as God was with it for us.
That’s no easy job. And it goes against our natural instincts. It means we will work hard sowing seeds we will never see grow. We will have to minister to people whom we don’t feel deserve it—who we know will waste it. We will have to continually spread the resources of this church out in directions that fly in the face of our fiduciary responsibilities, that go against reason, that rely on faith, not fiscal security—on hope, not happenstance—on love, not leverage.
It means we must care less for success based on the number of people sitting in worship on a Sunday, or how many new members were taken in, or size of the annual budget; and care more for establishing relationships with the path people, the rocky grounders, and the thorny folks. Sowing the word of grace and not worrying about its efficacy—indeed trusting in its efficacy. Speaking God’s word in active ways that will help soften hard hearts, protect souls from temptation, form deep roots to draw on in hard times, and beat back the thorny issues that divide us.
The first parts of Messiah Lutheran Church’s mission are complete—you have established a fellowship with strong leaders and cheerful givers, and you have built a worship and education space.
Now we must move together into the next phase of that mission. We reached out to form the fellowship, we reached inwardly to provide for a church building. But now it is time for reaching out again in love to those outside these walls. In ways we’re accustomed to and have been for years, and in new ways that exist right now only as the seed of an idea in someone’s head. We must be the mission once again. We must help prepare the soil of their hearts for the love and mercy and compassion that someday—someday—will flourish there.
If we but “waste” the seed.

Fluffy Goodness

2008-07-10T10:05:00.003-04:00

Ahh, the fourth of July! Parades and Uncle Sam on Stilts. Kazoo bands! Hot dogs and hamburgers, cold drinks, watermelon. And of course cotton candy on the green! This year the kids made several hundred fluffy cones, making it one of the most popular booths in the celebration. All the proceeds from the sale go to the fund that will help send the youth to the Gathering in New Orleans next summer.

We are blessed to live in the land of the free and home of the brave. And we are of course, citizens of God's kingdom first and foremost. So we must use that freedom and courage to advocate for those who have little voice in the world--the poor, the afflicted, the displaced, the imprisoned, the hungry. It is a fitting "birthday present" for America that we share of the bounty God has given us to manage, and that we love mercy and do justice.

And if you're wondering--why the 4th of July on July 10th? It's because I just figured out how to load pictures onto the blog!! So, stay tuned for more! --Pastor Tom

Music Plays an Important Role

2008-07-08T13:53:00.002-04:00

Jewish temple worship included the singing of psalms, accompanied by stringed instruments such as the lyre, by bells and cymbals, and by horns. The flute was played as a part of ritual mourning for a loved one lost.

I'm no expert on early Christian worship, but I know that Paul's letters contain snippets of what can only be classified as hymns. So there was singing. Presumably the same instrumentation, though gradually branching out to other culture's folk instruments as the church became more diversified.

Most of us equate church music with an organ though. Or a piano. And recently (in the scheme of things) guitars, drums, and other instruments. There's a wide variety in the expression of worship.

Does that mean you have to love it all? By no means! You can have your favorite kind of church music. Just remember, someone loves their music and instrumentation as much as you love yours.

Why this sudden interest in worship music? Our organist was out sick this past Sunday and we had to hurriedly put together songs that we could accompany with guitars! And we had to leave a lot of the liturgy out, since a cappella singing of the liturgy always starts out nice, but generally veers off course along the way!

And I missed all the music! The singing. The piano and organ. Of course we had fun singing two gutiar songs and one Jesus Loves Me without instrumentation, but it wasn't the same. Gave me a whole new appreciation for the role of music in our worship.

Who knows what worship music will sound like in another fifty years? One things sure--it'll be there--it's too important not to be!!

God's Love, for "dummies"

2008-07-07T09:45:00.002-04:00

I’m beginning to think I watch too much TV. It’s always in my head and it’s become my major point of reference. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m finding that television shows are creeping more and more into the sermon. So, I’m going to try an expand my horizons—maybe quote movies or even books!

Starting next week. Because I wanted to tell you about what goes on at the church office in the afternoons—and of course it made me think of a Seinfeld episode. Remember the one where Jerry answers the phone and it’s a telemarketer? And he tells him “I can’t talk now, but give me your home number and I’ll call you back later. The telemarketer replies that the company doesn’t allow that. Jerry says, “Oh, I guess you don’t want people calling you at home?” “No,” is his tentative answer. And Jerry says, “Now you know how I feel.” And he hangs up!

The church office gets phone calls all the time from telemarketers. In the morning, Joanne is here to answer the phone so she has to deal with them. In the afternoon when I’m here, it’s my lot to field these calls. They’re from people calling to try and sell us Sunday School curricula, youth group programs, video courses for adult forums, cds and dvds of the Bible. But also people soliciting funds for firefighters and police, starving children in Africa, and for research on just about any disease you can contract.

And then there’s the tape recorded messages. The Red Cross uses those to tell people about upcoming blood drives—which I don’t mind. But then there’s others—like the one I got the other day at church. “[Blast of ship’s horn] This is your captain speaking. You’ve been selected to receive two free boarding passes for a luxury cruise. All you need to do is take a short survey, and you’ll get the boarding passes for the vacation of a lifetime!” Yeah, right! (Lisa’s over there thinking, “I can’t believe he didn’t take the cruise!”)

Finally there’s calls that aren’t strictly telemarketers per se. They are fundraisers of sorts. These calls are from people either legitimately in financial straights and looking for some help, or people who have learned how to work the church circuit—who may, but are probably not in too much of a bind—who are just seeking a handout from an unsuspecting charitable organization. Those are the hardest calls to handle. Which is why Joanne always passes them on to me! They demand a judgment call.

Anyway, the other day when I got that ship captain’s message, I had already gotten two other telemarketing calls, so I vowed to give the old Seinfeld gag a go on the next caller. I did not have to wait long. The phone rang almost immediately.
[Did I mention that the phones here were on the blink that day—full of static that made it almost impossible to hear or be heard? Well, they were.] I picked up the ringing phone and was treated to a burst of white noise. I said, “Messiah Lutheran Church.” And waited with baited breath for the sales pitch.

But it wasn’t a telemarketer. It wasn’t someone looking for money. It wasn’t Captain Steubing, either. The voice on the other end of the line identified himself and asked if there was someone here who could answer some questions for him.
Red flags. Often people working the system want to appear “worthy” of help, so they ask a few questions about the church and its beliefs. Other times people for some reason or another want to prove to you that their theology is superior to yours, so they ask leading questions designed to entrap you. (Much like the Pharisees did with Jesus.) I warily offered to try and answer whatever questions he had.

“Thanks,” he said. “You the pastor?” “Yes,” I replied. “Good. Cause I want to ask you this: a Lutheran friend of mine, said that he knew he was saved because Jesus died on the cross to take away the sins of the world and he saved everyone. So I don’t have to do anything to be saved. Is that what Lutherans think?” He paused, awaiting my wisdom.

I on the other hand, could surmise where he was headed with this line of questioning. There was another shoe still levitating here. “Yes, Lutherans believe that Jesus died on the cross to crush sin and rescue us all. But there is an aspect of acceptance necessary.” “How do you mean?” “Well, when someone gives you a gift, you say, thank you, don’t you? He allowed that was true, but asked, “Is that all there is to it? I don’t have to do anything?”

There’s nothing you could do,” I said. “God gives forgiveness to us without cost—free—which is good, because there’s no way we could ever earn it and no way we’d ever come to Jesus on our own. God does it all That’s called grace.”

That was a good basic explanation, but I could tell he wasn’t satisfied. “I have another friend who witnessed—that’s the term right? He witnessed to me long and hard that you had to repent of your sins and accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior in order to be saved.” (A size twelve shoe hit the floor with a bang.)
“Ahh,” I thought, he’s definitely arguing the Anabaptist point of view. Snippets of Lutheran theology and scripture verses started to array themselves for battle in my mind, as all the while klaxons sounded, warning me not to fall into a trap, or carelessly offend a different way of knowing Jesus—in case this man was sincere in his quest for information.

“If I were on a desert island and never even heard about Jesus, I’d still be saved right?” the voice continued. My professors in seminary warned us about this kind of theological debate tactic. It was called “Desert Island Theology.” Seriously. “If you were on a desert island you wouldn’t know what being saved even was. I’m all in favor of leaving such complexities up to God.”

The silence on the phone line telegraphed the man’s dissatisfaction with that reasoning. I don’t think he liked such short, dogmatically deficient answers. He opened a new line of questioning. “ I’m just trying to get things straight—what my purpose is on earth, what I am supposed to be doing. What do you think is our purpose in life?”

I suddenly understood why gurus sit alone on remote mountain tops! Not that I felt all that wise. Indeed I felt as if I wasn’t getting the points across. But now he’d basically asked me the meaning of life. Again theology and scripture rolled around in my head like numbered balls in a bingo cage. Mentally I shuffled my stack of explanations and considered several ways to lay down the cards in order to clearly and brilliantly lead this fellow to new heights of spirituality and knowledge of God. In the end, though I opted for a simple answer.

“I believe we were put here to love God and love one another.” It felt like a lame answer, but I truly believed it. And after all, Jesus did say that the two most important commandments were to love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and strength and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. (Admittedly I didn’t think of that particular reference until ten minutes after the phone call ended, but hey---better late than never!)

The connection got even worse then, and the man, sounding kind of disappointed with the brevity of my answers to his questions, bid me good day. I apologized once more for the phone conditions, and hung up. Immediately, I breathed a sigh of relief mixed with frustration and embarrassment over what I perceived to be my inadequate responses. Suddenly my mind was full of great answers—sterling examples of Lutheran apologetics, cogent and insightful comments on the nuances of atonement theology and salvation history. Why don’t these things come to me when I’m engaged in a conversation, I wondered?

Part of it I know is me. I’m too busy inside my head, sorting through six or eight possible ways to respond to the question that will amaze and enlighten the questioner! I want to come off as wise and intelligent.

But the thing is—today’s gospel has Jesus saying, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.” So wise and intelligent isn’t necessarily the way to be! Sometimes, it would seem, wisdom and intelligence are roadblocks to our faith. Especially if we assume that we have all the answers and can fully explain the ins and outs of our God. That’s limiting God and limiting the ways God can interact with us. Both are not so good.

Better to be like a child—open and trusting. Rather than getting caught up in the minutia of theological debate, rather than being confused by the caveats and anathemas tacked onto the good news by the religious intelligentsia, can we agree that that the gospel is, at its core, a simple message of God’s love for us?

That’s good stuff. So, maybe what I told my caller the other day could be considered elegant in its simplicity. Maybe it was what he needed to hear. I really believe that his main concern wasn’t figuring out God’s plan for salvation, but rather proving that Lutherans are too liberal in their application of God’s grace. By keeping it simple, I hope that I related the gospel to him in a way that transcended the mechanics of “being saved” and spoke more to celebrating the relationship we have with God through Jesus—a relationship initiated not by us, but by our gracious God.

This “basics” approach reminds me of that series of books “for dummies.” (If you object to the use of that terminology, write the publisher, not me.) You’re familiar with these books? They are concise and easy to understand introductions to a variety of topics—from mortgages, to NASCAR, to Microsoft Office, to precious metals investing, to even Chihuahuas for dummies. There seems to be one for everything. So I went to their website to see if there might not be one entitled God’s Love for Dummies. I didn’t find one.

But I did find Christianity for Dummies. It had this to say:
“Trying to define Christianity in a single sentence is kind of like trying to cram
my family’s luggage into the back of our minivan when we go on vacation —
an impossible task until you start throwing many bags, even seemingly
important ones, out the window. …but if I had to pack it into a nutshell, I’d say that Christianity is the belief that God chose to create and love humans, and — at an incredible cost to himself — frees them from a tight spot if only they, in response,choose to reach out for his helping hand.”

Now, with a little time and reference books, I could take that statement apart word by word and tell you where we as Lutherans would agree and where we might want to add or subtract some things. For instance, a definition of Christianity without the mention of Jesus is lacking in some existential way.

But, for the most part, this simple statement tells it like it is. And the rest of the book builds from there. But, no four dollar words. No incomprehensible logic. And no arguing over who’s got it right. Just lays it out there in simple terms.
Too bad there isn’t a Lutheranism for Dummies, ay? A clear and readable book we could go to with questions about what we believe as Lutherans. Of course there’s the Book of Concord (hold it up), but it’s a little dense. How about a book that just hits the high spots then? Here’s The Fortress Introduction to the Lutheran Confessions - which does just that. It’s written by Gunther Gassmann and Scott Hendrix, both of whom I had for professors in seminary. It’s a pretty scholarly writing.

There is a book out there that explains Lutheran things fairly simply. Here it is—it’s called The Lutheran Handbook. Read this book and you’ll know about half of what Lutherans believe. Read The Lutheran Handbook II, and you’ll know the other half. I recommend these two for anyone with a sense of humor who wants to have the simple low-down on what it means to be Lutheran.

What do Lutherans believe about being saved? I suppose you want to know what you should say if someone asks you that or similar questions. Let’s stick to the premise that basic is best, or K.I.S.S.—keep it simple stupid. You could tell him: Knowledge of our sin, revealed by the commandments, and our inability to earn God’s favor by doing good (check what St. Paul writes in today’s second reading), coupled with faith in Christ awakened in us by the Holy Spirit, enables us to turn to God and receive forgiveness and love. Jesus did take away the sin of the world, but for some reason some reject him—the only unforgivable sin as my pastor in NC would say. Does that doom one for all time? I don’t know. We leave that up to God, along with the other desert island examples. Trusting in a gracious God who has revealed his love to know-nothing infants such as ourselves.

Even more simply you could tell him. Jesus loves you. All the rest is just variations on that theme.
Or…or, you could ask for their home phone number and offer to call them later…(no, don’t do that!). AMEN

Thanks be to God!

2008-07-02T10:00:00.002-04:00

St. Paul writes in this week's second lesson from Romans 7, that the good he knew he should do--he didn't, and the bad he knew he should not do--he did anyway. And isn't that the case with all of us--at least sometimes? It's so much easier to ignore the right thing to do and do the selfish thing. I guess what Paul is saying that this is human nature--free will gone astray.

This drives him to despair--which is exactly what Luther said the "law" should do. For it is only when we realize that we cannot extricate ourselves from the mire of sin, it is only when we discover that there's nothing we can do or say that will rescue us from the chaos of our own Christ-less souls, it is only when we figure out that we've been running in fear from God instead of in desperation to God---it is only then that we fall into the arms of a loving and gracious God.

"Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?" cries Paul. "Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" God alone saves us. And it's a good thing God does. Or else we'd all be lost!

Prayer for the day: Gracious God, thank you for your boundless love!

Praise God!

2008-07-01T10:26:00.003-04:00

There once was a man who bought a horse. The fella he bought it from advised him that the horse had belonged to a preacher, and only responded to commands other than the norm. "Praise God" to start him trotting, "Alleluia" to make him run, and "Hosanna" for whoa.

The buyer hopped on the horse and shouted, "Praise God!" and the horse began to trot. He yelled, "alleluia" again and the nag broke into a run. "This horse is great," thought the man--until he saw a cliff coming up.

"Whoa!" he shouted. No effect. "Stop!" he yelled. The horse kept running towards the abyss. "What was that command?" he wondered. Finally it came to him. "HOSANNA!" The horse stopped inches from the edge of the cliff.

"Oh, praise God!" gasped the man.

That's an old joke, but I still get a chuckle from it. And I use it today because I praise God for healing and doctors and nurses.

You see, I was gone all last week. We went up state to help out my parents as my dad had a knee replacement. It is a routine operation, done hundreds of times each day. But one always worries about one's own kin. So we were nervous during the surgery. But it was a complete success! Dad is now in rehab and mom is doing well, too.

So thank God for the medical arts! Praise God for compassionate people who care for us when we're ill! And glory be to God who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love!

Unfinished Sermon

2008-06-30T13:28:00.002-04:00

What follows is Sunday's sermon first draft that I abandoned a little more than half way through. It lacks only the main point--that Peter and Paul aren't the "Odd Couple" I was envisioning at sermon's start. Instead the real odd couple is us and God. And yet God enters into relationship with us and sticks with us through all the messes we get into. The sermon preached this Sunday is not available electronically this week, but it was very similar--a little more narrative in design perhaps. The main point of that one was we are all imperfect vessels for the gospel, and yet God entrusts it to us.

The Odd Couple
Peter and Paul 6/29/08
John 29:15-19

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from God’s son and the one we follow, Jesus the Christ.

I’m all about classic TV trivia. You know, those shows you watched when you were growing up—either in prime time or (for you youngsters) in endless reruns each afternoon. I know Alice’s boyfriend’s name from The Brady Bunch. (Sam the Butcher). I know where every episode of Gilligan’s Island begins. (The lagoon). I can sing the whole Facts of Life theme song. (But I won’t!) And I can quote you dialog and “catch phrases” from a myriad of classic TV shows. Good Times? (Dyn-o-mite!) F Troop –“Not in front of the men, Jane.’ Or who can recite this with me. Join in if you can:

On November 13th Felix Unger was asked to leave his place of residence. That request came from his wife. Having no where else to turn, he Oscar Madison. Some time earlier that he never return. Can two divorced men share an apartment without driving each other crazy?

Of course that is from the classic, classic television show…? The Odd Couple. I watched that show so many times, I could probably tell you what happens in each episode. One of my favorites was when Oscar and Felix went on Password. (with Betty White – some things never change!) Felix, in his usual style, gave Oscar “Aristophanes” as a clue for some mundane word—which Oscar says is “ridiculous.” Later on Oscar’s password just happens to be “ridiculous,” so he gives Felix “Aristophanes” as a clue. He gets it! (Okay so it’s lame—but it beats out Supernanny any day of the week!)

The fun thing about the show was the differences between the two main characters, and how they each lived their lives, both separately and together. And I’ve entitled this sermon “The Odd Couple” because today is the commemoration day for St. Peter and St. Paul, apostles. I find it interesting that these two giants of the early church, important as they are, and as different as they are, yet share a day in the church year. It’s as if the church fathers who put together the calendar realized that the lives of these two were intertwined through the mission they shared, and this in spite of their differences in background and experience. Can two apostles of the church share Jesus’ mission without driving each other crazy?

How much do we know about Peter and Paul—what are their similarities and their differences? Here are a couple of the important ones…

Peter was an original disciple—the first chosen. Paul was chosen after the resurrection—but he was the first apostle to the gentiles.

Peter was a fisherman. Paul was a tentmaker by trade, but also dabbled in the persecution of Christians.

Peter was a simple man, he was not learned or scholarly when it came to scripture. Paul was a Pharisee, born and bred to be a stickler for the laws contained in the scriptures. His advanced education shows in his letters.

Peter was prone to sticking his foot in his mouth and acting oafishly. Paul had a way with the written word—it is Paul’s writings on which much of our theology rests.

So much for differences, how were they alike?

Peter was called by Christ. So was Paul. Each was filled with the Holy Spirit.

Peter was a great evangelist—he converted thousands of people with the good news. Paul also had great success, starting churches throughout the Middle East.

Despite Peter’s and Paul’s success, they each faced difficulties. Peter carried the guilt of denying Christ three times. Paul’s guilt involved his bloodthirsty pursuit of The Way (as the early church was known).

Peter was repeatedly jailed for his witness. Paul also suffered imprisonment as well as floggings and beatings. Each was “broken out” of prison on at least one occasion by supernatural means.

Peter got into trouble by doubting that the gospel was to be spread to the gentile world. Paul also experienced difficulty in the early church hierarchy due to his zeal for proselytizing the Gentiles. Acts tells us that they divided the mission—Peter as apostle to the Jews, and Paul to the gentiles.

Peter continued to be inept at speaking. But it is conjectured from studies of his letters that Paul was also less of a speaker than he was a writer. In them, he rails against the so-called “super apostles,” whose eloquent, yet tainted, message wooed his churches away from the true gospel he had given them.

Finally, Peter was martyred by crucifixion. Legend has it he insisted he be hung upside down, so as not to suffer a death too similar to his master’s. Paul’s death is also shrouded in mystery. He is thought to have been executed in Rome after being imprisoned there for some time.

So, certainly Peter and Paul made up a strange duo, an odd pairing not unlike others that have popped up from time to time in history: Abraham Lincoln and Ulysses S. Grant, Julia Roberts and Lyle Lovett, Jerry Seinfeld and George Costanza. To name a few. It seems such unlikely couples have a knack for getting the job done. Peter and Paul obviously did. Despite being an “odd couple.”

And you know what? For all their similarities and differences, one thing effected both of their lives profoundly, transforming them from ordinary beings into workers in God’s kingdom.

Life Out Loud (sermon 6/22/08)

2008-06-22T17:56:00.001-04:00

Life Out Loud
Pentecost 6A 6/22/08
Jeremiah 20:9, Matthew 10:27

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Savior Jesus Christ.

A little boy was kneeling beside his bed with his mother and grandmother and softly saying his prayers, "Dear God, please bless Mummy and Daddy and all the family and grant me a good night's sleep."
Suddenly he looked up and shouted, "And don't forget to give me a bicycle for my birthday! Amen!"
"There is no need to shout like that," said his mother. "God isn't hard of hearing."
"No," said the little boy, "but Grandma is."

The bible book of Ecclesiastes says there’s a time for every purpose under heaven. A time to reap and a time to sow, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to live and a time to die. So, it follows that, for God’s people, there’s a time to be quiet, and a time to be LOUD!
Our problem is that we constantly confuse the two. We speak our minds passionately and loudly when the Christ-like thing to do would be to hold the tongue and turn the other cheek. But, then, when the situation just begs for a response—either as individuals or as the church, we clam up and tend to be silent. What’s up with that?

Jesus said to his disciples, “What I tell you in the dark, say it in the light. What you hear whispered—shout it from the rooftops.” The good news is not a secret. It is the power of salvation for the whole world. The baptized life is not to be lived quietly. For the most part it is life out loud. Meaning, both celebrating God’s love while telling the story of God’s grace in your life, and participating in God’s care of the oppressed and marginalized.
The problem is that both are hard work. The former is difficult enough for us shy Lutherans (the average Lutheran, it has been determined, shares their faith with someone once every 26 years). It’s difficult because it involves reflection on, and the articulation of our beliefs—and we’re not all too sure anymore what they are. It’s been a long time since confirmation! So, when the situation calls for a witness, we ‘re all (look around, whistle, avoid eye contact) until the all clear sounds.
And the latter—assisting God in care and advocacy for the oppressed and marginalized in those instances when that care and public policy collide—the latter has been rendered off limits by our society. A society in which faith has become a highly individualized and private matter. (Unless you’re running for president.) ELCA Bishop Mark Hanson has been roundly criticized for speaking out on public policies—the main complaint being that such matters don’t concern the church. For the most part our society (and we as a part of it) feels that the church should be seen but not heard—that the public practice of religion is confined to soup kitchens and disaster relief.
But it’s not so! Luther affectionately called the church “the mouth house,” and Jesus encourages us in the gospel of Matthew to proclaim the nearness of the kingdom—out loud! It’s part of the commission you were given at baptism. To live among God’s people, to proclaim the good news of God in Christ, and to strive for justice in all the earth. That’s life out loud! And I’m going to tell you, now, about three ways you can live your life out loud. They’re easy to remember. They go like this:

Speak up! Speak out! And speak for!

Number one. Now, I’m the type of guy who processes things internally, so, when called upon to comment on something extemporaneously, I tend to be soft-spoken. So I hear this a lot in my house: “Speak up!”
And speak up is what we need to do in situations that call for faith talk. That call for a witness. Like when someone at work says, “I don’t go to church. Church is a bunch of hypocrites.” You may be tempted to let such talk slide—especially if the one saying it is your boss. But you really should speak up in situations like these. You might just answer back, “I do go to church because it is full of hypocrites. I like to be with people like myself!”
Or you never know when someone’s going to ask you, “Well, what do Lutherans believe?” Rather than mumble something about it being complicated and giving them my number, you should be able to speak up! Not by quoting the Augsburg Confession or the catechism, but with an opening like, “Here’s what I’ve discovered about Lutherans…” and then telling them your faith story. Which you know, of course, because it’s your story. (And then give them my number!)
You gotta tell your story. You need to be heard. So you have to what? SPEAK UP!

Number two. There is injustice in the world—in foreign nations, in this country, in this state, in our communities. And God calls us to speak out against it. To name it for what it is, and denounce it.
Sometimes this injustice is caused by human sin, like greed, prejudice, or hubris, flowing unchecked into a legitimate and normally just system. These moments demand a word from God’s people. Other times there is something far more nefarious afoot. Evil still has a foothold on this earth and we are called to speak out against it. No matter the risk.
Deitrich Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor living in Germany during the rise of Nazism. He knew of the military ambitions of Adolph Hitler and the horrors of his “final solution.” He knew it was all counter to the gospel of Jesus Christ. But he also knew how dissenting opinions were handled in the Third Reich—imprisonment and execution. He had the opportunity to leave for the United States, but stayed in Germany and lead a dissident group known as the Confessing Church. While all the other churches remained silent in the face of evil, Bonhoeffer spoke out against it. He was imprisoned and finally shot to death near the end of the war.
We may not be called upon to speak out in such dramatic fashion. But speaking out against the evil we know to exist in the world, and not keeping quiet is part of living out loud. The New England Synod spoke out against the genocide in Darfur through a resolution at its assembly this month. It is part of our mission as the church—to what? SPEAK OUT!

Number three. Last week we heard that Jesus’ mission for us is to suffer along with people—to have compassion for the suffering and to bring them hope. Very often those who are suffering have no voice in the world. No voice to tell of their pain, no voice to ask for help, no voice even to pray for relief! The third way to live out loud therefore is to speak for. To speak for those whose voices can’t be heard, or who just aren’t listened to.
This is not an earth shattering thing to do. It’s more of an nuisance—an “inconvenient truth” to borrow from Al Gore. It involves not only speaking for people whose existence and plight we’re embarrassed to admit—the homeless, the mentally ill, the disabled, the poor to name just a few—but it also involves rearranging our busy lives in order to accommodate their proper care. Rising taxes, volunteer hours, and the placement of group homes in our neighborhoods are just a small sample of the ways we must adapt in order to walk the talk of “speaking for.”
Conversely, when governments get into a fiscal bind, these people always suffer disproportionately. This injustice begs a response. And if you think we in New Hampshire are exempt from such, know that in the governor’s latest round of budget cuts, 68% comes from cutbacks in Health and Human Services—the poor, the sick, the needy. Speaking for these who have little voice in the system is doing justice.

Speak up! Speak out! Speak for!

I know, I know. You’re like Moses and have a thing about public speaking. Or you don’t have a golden tongue (or pen) so you’re afraid you won’t be able to make yourself clear or be persuasive enough. You want to speak up, speak out and speak for, but there’s that speaking part of it. Well, not to worry. You know why? Because…

Actions speak louder than words. What we do as followers of Christ is indicative of the gospel message. Here’s the rub though—just as not speaking up, out, and for is a failure on our part to live the faith out loud, to hide in darkness instead of proclaiming in the light, so too the human propensity not to act in certain situations marks a failure to live the faith at all. Like Jeremiah, one must act, or be consumed by guilt.

An example of not acting. The other week in an admittedly unsavory section of Hartford CT, a seventy-three year old man was struck by a car which then drove off, leaving him unconscious and bleeding in the street. But that’s not the worst of this event, which was recorded by a surveillance camera. Bystanders who witnessed the accident did not go to the man’s aid. They never even called 911. Ten cars passed the man’s body. Two turned around! Again, none of them called for help or offered any. Finally a police officer, responding to a different call, saw the man lying in the street and radioed for assistance.
What parable does that sound like? The Good Samaritan—only the Samaritan was missing. I don’t know if any of those bystanders or motorists were Christians. But if they were, they abdicated their God-given obligation to speak the gospel through their actions on behalf of the helpless. Not to excuse non-Christians there present. They were just as negligent—just not in the name of God.
Actions speak louder than words. Leading a life that is godly is speaking up. Putting your well being on the line for justice is speaking out. And living with an awareness that we control an unequal proportion of the world’s resources, and adjusting our living habits accordingly is speaking for.

So, speak up, speak out, speak for—none of them is easy, and several of them are risky and sure to cause an uproar. Jesus tells his disciples that his message of peace, goodwill towards man, has the ironic side effect of actually disrupting the peace. Of splitting families, of polarizing opinions, of calling down retribution upon the heads of those who dare to hold fast to the freedom of the gospel by speaking in the name of the Lord. Jesus doesn’t promise success, or guarantee an easy time of it. Instead he promises dissention and guarantees that some may loose their lives. No wonder we are quiet Christians. Why would we even dare to speak? What could Jesus possibly say that would encourage us to do this radical, risky thing?
Jesus says, “Do not be afraid.” In fact he says it multiple times. Don’t be afraid of those who can hurt you. Don’t be afraid of those who deride you. Don’t be afraid, Jesus says, for you, you, are valuable to God. Exceedingly valuable. And nothing that happens to you—good or bad—happens with God apart from you. God is with you always.

The world is listening. What will you say?

The Graduates

2008-06-21T11:19:00.003-04:00

We're congratulating a bumper crop of high school graduates at Messiah this June. They're all off to college in the fall (except for Ryan B., who will join Captive Free), and to jobs and camp this summer. So we'll miss them at gatherings and events. But we'll miss them most of all in worship.

Especially me. Because they all sit right in the front row (along with the rest of the youth). Can't help but notice them, listening to my sermon, singing the hymns, saying the Lord's Prayer (old school version), and texting sometimes! They've appeared in countless children's messages, been glad to hand out whatever at congregational meetings, and sung that announcement song (weakly, but audibly!) each week.

Now their smiling faces won't be there to greet me each Sunday. Hopefully they'll find some spirituality to attach themselves to at their various institutions of higher learning. We'll keep in touch, and save their seats when they're home for a visit (or to do laundry).

And as for the front row, a new batch of youth will move up to take their place (some already occupy a front row seat each worship service). That's the way of the world--we move on and others take our place and life goes on. It isn't always the same, but it's always fresh and new--who knows what mischief the new crop of young uns will get into?

So, Godspeed graduates--there are new and exciting front rows for you to occupy out there. I pray that you hold fast to your faith and remember your home is with God always and forever.

And as for you up and coming youth... see you in the front row!

Peace, Pastor Tom

There By the Grace of God Goes You

2008-06-19T11:23:00.002-04:00

"Save me from the mire, do not let me sink, let me be rescued ...out of the deep waters... Let not the torrent of waters wash over me, neither let the deep swallow me up..." from Psalm 69

Although the psalmist is speaking metaphorically of water here, it is ironic that this psalm is appointed for a week in which a good part of the US is underwater, and other countries like Burma still struggle to recover from floods caused by a typhoon. Water is a symbol of chaos in the Hebrew scriptures, and the imagery of waters flooding the earth is used extensively to represent the disintegration of Israel and all of creation into the mire of sin.

Water is also a sign of cleansing and rebirth however. And as we react to the watery disasters of our day, that should be the focus. Being present to those in need in whatever ways we can. Washing away the horror and destruction, and bringing new life through the love of Jesus expressed in working hands, giving wallets, and praying hearts.

Sunday we will remember those affected by flooding in prayer and you will have a chance to offer your assistance.

"Hide not your face from me, be swift and answer me, for I am in distress." v17

Heirloom Religion

2008-06-18T20:24:00.003-04:00

My wife and I wanted to plant some tomatoes this year, but hadn't had a chance to purchase the plants. I thought most places would be all out, so when Lisa mentioned a sign she had seen on the side of the road, I was interested. The sign advertised "heirloom tomato plants."

Now, I don't know much about heirloom varieties. All I know is that they're "old fashioned" meaning that they haven't been hybridtized, hydrolisized, pesticized, etc. The fruit, as I understand it, isn't perfect tomato looking, but has great flavor. People like to grow the old varieties not because they're nostalgic--but because some things don't have to be perfect to be good. And some times improvements make for too much homogeneity.

Heirlooms--there's a lot of interest in them nowadays. Heirloom quilts, heirloom furniture, heirloom clothing. even heirloom religion. People are becoming attracted to some of the ancient practices of the church. Not "that old time religion," but rather candles, icons, chants, meditation, and prayer labyrinths--just to name a few.

Again, it's not nostalgia on their part, nor is it "those were the good old days." Because the ancient heirlooms are transferred into a modern context, they take on a whole new character, while retaining the feeling of antiquity and connection to tradition. One author calls this "Ancient / Future Church.

I like the idea. Perhaps we'll try some heirloom religion as part of our Advent devotions this winter. I think it would be meaningful and spiritually uplifting. What do you think?

Whine and Jesus

2008-06-17T14:41:00.002-04:00

Maybe a better word for whine is lament. Two, possibly three of our readings for this Sunday have elements of the genre "lament" is them. What is a lament--and what makes it different from whining or complaining?

When Jeremiah says, "I have become a laughingstock all day long; everyone mocks me." he boarders on whining. Whining has much to do with attitude of the whiner. If the grievance is trivial and the response to it out of proportion, you got yourself a whine. Likewise, if someone is acting out just to get out of doing something odious to them, complaints might be heard. Again the attitude meter is on overload with both, and their rhetoric is annoying and repetitious.

The simplest lament would probably be a single word--"WHY?" (Remember back when figure skater Nancy Kerrigan was attacked after a practice session? She lamented the whys big time.) A lament expresses anger, fear, anxiety, doubt, and a whole lot of other emotions all wrapped up into a statement shouted or cried out. There's real pain in a lament--gripping pain, devastating pain.

And yet, there's usually hope at the end of the lament. The lamenter keeps their faith in God and submits to his will, which he knows to be ultimately good. We who know Jesus especially have this hope, though it can disappear deep into the fabric of our laments. But the cross of Christ is proof that God is present with us even at the most heinous times.

Is lamenting a lost art? Yes and no. Yes, because we are reluctant to be angry at God--even when life throws the wickedest curve. And no--because the scriptures preserve laments for us to use when our own vocabulary won't suffice!

God's Work, Our Hands (sermon 6/15)

2008-06-16T19:35:00.002-04:00

Do you remember your first job? What was it? Call out your answers. My first “job,” if you can call it that, was back on Long Island, New York, delivering a shopper’s publication known as The Pennysaver.
The Pennysaver was a magazine printed on newspaper stock, a little larger than the TV guide you get in your Sunday paper, and it was delivered free to all the houses in town. (Whether you wanted it or not—kind of a precursor to spam!) Along with it came advertising circulars, the number of which determined the carrier’s income for the week—the more circulars there were the more you got paid—I think it was several cents a circular delivered.
The circulars and the Pennysaver were rolled up together and put in a special plastic bag that was designed to hang on the front door knob of the house. You weren’t allowed by law to put it in the mailbox, and it was against company policy to throw them on the lawn or front walk. (I did sometimes anyway—once I even rode my bike down the middle of the street, flinging Pennysavers left and right to save time!) Mostly though you filled up one of those folding shopping carts with the papers and wheeled it up and down the streets on your route(s), stopping at each house to make the delivery. It was a geeky version of paper boy, which in and of itself is quite a geeky job.
Now, granted, this job was pretty much a no-brainer. But there was a certain way you were supposed to do it, and there were “tricks of the trade” that made it easier. However, we received no training at all. The “boss” just dropped off two thousand or so circulars and it was up to you to get them delivered. So, I learned from experience how to arrange a workspace for the rolling and bagging. I learned from other carriers where to get a cart and to cut across people’s lawns instead of going up and down each front walk. (Unless of course, the homeowner was watching!) It was on the job training.
Most of my jobs were like that. I started at Macrose Lumber as a counterman the day of their big Columbus Day sale. Didn’t know a thing about lumber or home improvement. But I learned from the other workers, and from the customers, and from experience. Same thing with my other jobs: receiving department clerk at Masters Department Store, camp counselor, selling lighting fixtures at Andrea Electric, camp director, working at the bookstore at the seminary.
All of these jobs I was just launched into with very little if any practical training. And you know what? I did okay—it wasn’t always easy, or pleasant, or productive—but I survived and I got good at my jobs, and I even came to like doing them. Hopefully you had the same experience with your jobs as I did.

Now, why did I use up a perfectly good piece of your Sunday morning giving you a resume of my early vocational life? Well, other than giving us something to talk about after the service as we say good morning, my experiences of “on the job” training serve as an illustration for one of the points I want to make today. And that is: you are qualified to work in God’s kingdom. You may not feel “ready,” and you may think you need advance training, but regardless—today’s gospel spells it out—Jesus is hiring, and you’re the ones he wants. And he needs you now. You can learn on the fly.

But let’s take two steps back before we get into that. First, let’s ask ourselves, “If Jesus is hiring—what’s the job description?” And second, “Why us—what makes us so desirable for this position? To answer these questions we turn to the gospel of Matthew.

Our gospel for this morning opens with a “summary” of what Jesus has been doing prior to this moment. He had been preaching and teaching about the coming kingdom, and he had been healing extensively. His popularity was growing due to these activities, and the crowds he was drawing were growing as well. They came from the villages, and cities, and from the countryside—thousands of them—men and women, young and old—the skeptics, the believers, those afflicted with a disease or infirmity.
They all came to see this man who spoke of God’s graciousness with such authority, who wasn’t afraid of anyone in power, and whose miracles were potent signs of something divine breaking into their mortal realm. They came because they were curious. They came because they were hungry. They came because what Jesus promised was reward for those who were poor and retribution for the callous rich. An existence in which all were brothers and sisters with the same heavenly Father. A God who was forgiving and loving.
This was not what they were used to hearing—neither in synagogue, nor in the marketplace. In their synagogues they were bombarded with a myriad of rules and rituals designed to insure that they kept the law exactly, or, failing that, earned God’s forgiveness with a suitably expensive sacrifice or complicated rite. And in the streets they learned that power is equal to the blade of a sword, and that freedom was an alien term to their Roman oppressors. Surrounding Jesus that day was a people who had lost their direction, knocked off the trajectory by restrictive and corrupt religious practices on the one hand, and on the other, by the occupying army watching their every move.
So as Jesus looks out over the crowd, that is what he sees. But he isn’t repulsed by their palpable weakness. And he isn’t angered by their inability to speak out against the tyranny raining down on their heads. But neither does he call down holy fire to consume the evil in the world, or raise them up as God’s avenging army. No. Those were certainly options. But no.
Instead, Matthew says, “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” He had compassion for them—he “suffered along with” them.

And that’s the larger part of the job description Jesus is hiring for.—suffering along with people. Being present with them in their hardships and challenges. Betcha thought it was casting out unclean spirits and demons, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, and curing every sickness and disease. That’s what appears to be the job description for the twelve as they are sent out. But it’s not really. That’s the strategy Jesus uses to do the job, and he commends it to the disciples. But Jesus knew that he wasn’t sent to wipe out disease from the earth, or immediately raise all who had died. Even with the twelve helping, many would stay sick and many more would remain dead until the day of the Lord. So these are not the mission itself, instead they are ways to accomplish it in their context—their situation—first century Palestine.

The mission is to suffer along with people. And to proclaim the good news that the kingdom of heaven had come near, in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. Proclaiming the nearness of the kingdom insures that people won’t wallow despairingly in their suffering—there is always hope well founded with God. So compassion and hope—that’s the job description for the task Jesus is calling us to. And if that weren’t urgent enough—that Jesus himself calls us to action, Jesus also notes that the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. There is a dire need for workers to do this job. Because it’s still a big job.

People are still harassed and helpless—some in the same ways the people of Israel were, and many more in new ways Jesus never encountered. People today are harassed by an economic system that favors the rich and exploits the poor. People today are helpless in navigating a badly balanced health care system that leaves tens of thousands of children without even the most basic of medical attention. People are harassed by the specter of terrorism, and stand helpless as their civil rights are tested in the pursuit of militant groups. People are harassed by high gas prices, by an unsatisfying religion of retail, by natural disasters, by repressive governments that care more about their power than their people, by attempts at ethnic genocide, by uncertainty and doubt. And they’re helpless to do anything about it.
That’s where we come in—the workers sent out into this harvest of tears—to suffer along with them, cry along with them and be God’s presence bringing hope when there is no hope. That’s our mission—whether the suffering is halfway around the world, or right here in our community. Our strategy will be dictated by the context and the resources we have.
To be present for the starving children in the Sudanese refugee camps we might donate to World Hunger or Lutheran Disaster relief—because that is the best way to be present. To be God’s hands for refugees and those whose status in this country is in jeopardy, a more active role may be required. Perhaps walking with them in their journey through the legal system, or sponsoring a family seeking freedom here, or writing a government official urging that action be taken to help may be the plan of action. Other strategies might include volunteering your time and effort to work on homes in New Orleans. They might involve setting up a counseling service that gives an outlet to teens who are at risk. The possibilities are endless and are limited only by our imaginations. But the mission remains the same—compassion and hope.

Well there’s one question still to be answered. Why you? Why me? Why Kay or Carl, or Kathy, why John, or Joe, or Julie—why any of us? We don’t know how to do this kind of work—or do we? Because it doesn’t take a PhD to comfort someone who’s lost a loved one. You don’t need to be ordained to pick up a hammer and join in the rebuilding of lives. And you aren’t expected to be perfect as God’s hands, because they’re our hands too, and we are only human beings. So it’s not your skills that make you acceptable for harvest work.
It’s the fact that you were once harassed and helpless and someone came to you with compassion, and gave you hope in the person of Jesus Christ. And you believed and you made it through the suffering. So you are eminently qualified to reach out to others in God’s love, because you have experienced that love yourself, you experienced that compassion and hope.
You have received the good news and it has affected your life, and so, when Jesus calls for laborers to go out into the harvest, know this: you are qualified and everything you need to know you already know, everything you need to do will be revealed to you, and every challenge that comes your way will also come with a solution.
Does that insure success? No. Some days you’ll be hanging your Pennysavers on each and every doorknob and people will read them and save pennies. And some days you’ll toss them from the middle of the street and people will be less than receptive. But God requires action, not perfection. Our mission as a congregation is to be Christ to others. To be present in their suffering and to speak words of hope in Jesus’ name. Lets get to work! Amen

Dream On

2008-06-16T10:11:00.002-04:00

"Last night I dreamed I shot an elephant in my pajamas. What he was doing in my pajamas, I'll never know." -- Groucho Marx

Do you remember your dreams? I rarely do. Lisa remembers every last detail of hers! And are they ever goofy and far out! Sometimes they follow her into wakefulness. Like the time she shook me awake to tell me there was a bear at the window (never you mind that the ground was a good ten feet away!). Another time she (in her dream) punched someone in the stomach. Only it was going on parallel in real life and she socked me in the gut!

The reason I bring this all up is that I remember a dream I had recently, and it was a bit unusual. In the dream I saw the Pope passing down a hallway (Pope John Paul - not Benedict). I intercepted him and asked him a question. He answered. I can't remember what he said in response, but that was it. end of dream.

What does it mean? Probably just my subconscious working out some inner feelings or conflicts. I may never know what my brain was up to that night!

Luther had mixed feelings about dreams. He saw dream interpreters of his day as charlatans and frauds. But he also conceded that there is biblical warrant for the importance of dreams, and sometimes dreams did come to pass in real life. In the end Luther said that he would rather have scripture any day, over and above dreams, and that the interpretation of dreams of a religious nature should agree with the Word to be valid.

I don't think Luther would have approved of my dream (he wasn't on good terms with the pope in his day). And he would likely have interpreted it as "meaningless...[and] should be ignored." But I"ll still remember my chance encounter with a great church leader. Even if it only was "in my dreams!"

Timing is Everything

2008-06-12T09:56:00.002-04:00

"...at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly..." - Romans 5:6b

To tell a joke or story well your timing has to be right. Some things have to be said fast, some slow and at the end of a long pause. Otherwise the audience misses the point or punchline and the speaker "lays an egg." Additionally, the story or joke has to be told in a certain sequence to be effective. For instance, you wouldn't start out telling a mystery story with, "The butler did it." Or a joke with, "To get to the other side!"

Likewise, in life, timing is important. Why else would we say, "I was in the right place at the right time"? Usually in life, events fit a distinct pattern of if...then. If such and such happens, then this will follow. That's the way of the world. And that "way" colors our thinking about God as well. We think, "If I follow the commandments, then God will love me." Quid pro quo.

Unfortunately for us, we can't keep the commandments--our timing is off, and we bomb.

Fortunately for us, God's timing is different than ours. At the right time, Paul writes, Christ died for our sins. And when was that "right time?" When we are at our best, most behaved, most godly? No. The right time for God to send Christ is when we are weak and sinful. Anyone can love somebody who causes no offense. God proves that God loves us by sending Jesus at that so unright right time--just when we need him most!

Brothers and sisters, it may not feel like the "right time" for you to have a closer relationship with God. There might be many obstacles in the way from your end. But for God, anything is possible--and now is the right time for God to reach out in love for you.

Assembly Required

2008-06-11T13:29:00.002-04:00

"We are called, gathered, and enlightened by the Holy Spirit." - Luther's Small Catechism

I remember Christmases and birthdays past, when my son was young, how we often got him presents that had those dreaded words on the outside of the box--"assembly required." That's enough to strike fear in the heart of the most handy guy--and I'm not always the handiest. (For instance - I'm not allowed to work on anything in the car that's made of plastic. I tend to break them)

Assembly required. That meant sorting out zillions of different length screws and different sized nuts and bolts, identifying the various components (marked "a" "B" etc.), and then following the instructions as best as you can considering the pictures they give you have no resemblance to anything in front of you.

Assembly required. Makes me almost cuss just thinking of it! Sometimes disassembly was needed too---like when you bolted flange A to do-hickey Z when it was supposed to be attached to widget #2 first. Then it's reassembly required!!

I just came back from a different kind of "required assembly." Our church's synod assembly. That's when all the churches in the synod (grouping of churches administered together due to geographic proximity) send two voting members and their pastor to a big meeting during which there are elections, resolutions, reports, a budget vote, and a keynote speaker.

For some reason, this required assembly is viewed by many with the same type of trepidation that's stirred up by the thought of assembling Barbie's Malibu Beach House. The sheer thought of speakers droning on, people saying the same thing in different ways in objection to a resolution, the endless budget discussion, and voting for people you've only read a paragraph about, seems to put off a lot of folks. And the insecurity of "not knowing what goes on during those assemblies" nixes quite a few others.

But some put aside the fear of the assembly required and leap out in faith. And you know what--they do have those experiences aforementioned. But they also meet other Lutherans. They sing together with 600 other voices (lots different if you've never done that!). They experience worship in all its mystery and simplicity and elegance. And they feel the cool wind of the Holy Spirit blowing throughout! The Spirit blew through the assembly several years ago and a pastor from New Jersey, recently moved to MA, became our Bishop. Things like that (though perhaps not so evident) happen all the time at Synod assembly.

The next time you hear the call for voting members, don't be put off or shy. You may struggle a bit with the issues and have trouble following the discussions. But overall, when it's all put together and we're standing there Spirit beside, it's a grand thing to see.

Even if there are parts left over.

A Joyful Noise

2008-06-10T09:10:00.002-04:00

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all you lands! -Psalm 100

What do you say when you are filled with joy? What sound comes out of your mouth when you're so happy words won't suffice?

Yippee!

Yahoo! (careful, that's trademarked now)

Hooray!

Huzzah! (for you Civil War buffs)

Yeeeehaaawww!

Alleluia!

Praise the Lord!

Cowabunga!

No matter what the utterance the reason for your joy is the same - because you have the great pleasure of coming to worship and serving God.

Now, it may not seem to be such a pleasure when the sun is shining and the beach is calling to you. But think about it--worship is the place you're guaranteed to meet Jesus, for not only did he promise to be where two or more are gathered in his name, but Jesus also promises to be present bodily in the Eucharist!

Contact with God, the ground and source of all being! Who would pass that up for a dip in the ocean? The sea will be around later, Messiah gathers for worship only once a week. Do you really want to miss out? God is offering godself to you! Here. Now.

That deserves a HALLELUJAH!
Or whatever noise you want--joyful, of course!

And Now a Word from Your Sponsors (sermon)

2008-06-09T13:34:00.001-04:00

One of my favorite television shows is How I Met Your Mother, which begins and ends each episode with a father, played off camera by Bob Saget, relating to his not-too-interested teenaged children the long and roundabout story of, well, how he met their mother. And, you know, I think it’s great when adults relate family history to their young ones—even when it is only on TV.

So, as I was preparing for today’s message, thinking about the gospel and the two baby girls who will be baptized this morning, Anika and Lila, I thought, here is an opportunity—an opportunity to tell some family stories. Specifically the story of Anika and Lila and how they came to be baptized here at Messiah Lutheran Church in Amherst New Hampshire. But also the much wider story of how God loves us and makes us part of his family—forever—through the waters of baptism and the promises of God that are contained therein.

Now, one teensy-weensy problem—neither little girl can understand what I’m saying now, nor can they read it tomorrow on my blog. Hmm. Here’s the solution I came up with. I wrote them a letter—to be opened on the day of their confirmation, or there abouts. In that letter is the story and some advice about living the Christian life. I call it And Now a Word From Your Sponsors, because we, the people of Messiah, are every bit as much of a sponsor for these new children of God as is their “God mother or father.”

So, years from now, teenaged Anika and Lila will open these letters and be immersed in the story of their baptism. And to make it all the more fun for them and for us here—first of all, I am going to read the letter to you, plus—I’m going to pass around two cards, on which you can write your own (short) message to Anika and Lila, and sign it, documenting your presence here this auspicious day in their lives. Furthermore I’m going to ask a family member to come up here and take our picture, so we can be remembered as part of this occasion. Then these girls will know who has prayed for them all those years in between.

[Hand out cards and pens, take picture.] So now, here’s the letter—and let me say, it is just as much for you as it is for them.

Dear Anika and Lila,

Greetings to you from those assembled at Messiah Lutheran Church in Amherst, New Hampshire this eighth day of June, 2008—the day and place of your baptisms. How wonderful it is that you share your baptismal birthday as cousins! We are so happy that your moms and dads brought you here to be baptized! Messiah Church is a special place to us, and now it will be a special place for you as well.

Of course you won’t remember this day and what happened. What outfit you were wearing, who was here from your families, how you cried and fussed (or slept through the whole thing), how we all sang to welcome you into God’s family and this church! Of course there will be pictures for you to see later—probably a lot of them—we have these digital cameras now that use no film. (If you even know what that is in 2022!) But we wanted to take a moment and tell you the story that even a thousand pictures couldn’t tell. And that’s the story of how you became part of God’s family by water and the word, and why that effects you even now, as you become young women.

You’d think this story would begin with the day you were born, but actually it starts way before then—way, way before then. Because God chose you both before you were born—before the universe was born—chose you to be special. Just as God chose the people of Israel to be his special people.

But even special people make bad decisions sometimes, and do the wrong thing and act selfishly. That’s part of being human. A part God longed to “fix.” So God became like us in the flesh in Jesus of Nazareth—who was at once God and human being. And Jesus taught, and healed, and did great deeds of power.

But some of the people back then did not believe that Jesus was God. And they had him killed. But the tomb could not contain him and he rose from the dead. He appeared to his friends—who were surprised to see him walking and talking since he was supposedly dead. And he told them two things. First that he was sending help to them in the form of the Spirit’s presence with them always. And second, he told them to let people know the good news that God has forgiven them and wants to make them part of his family. “Go,” Jesus said, “Go to all people, teach them what I taught you, and baptize them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Spirit.”

And so they went and they baptized, and then those who were baptized, baptized others, and then they baptized others, and so on, and so forth—all the way down to you, Anika and Lila.

Your moms and your dads were baptized and they wanted you to be in God’s family and come to know Jesus and his love. They brought you here and you were baptized by me, Pastor Tom Teichmann, in the middle of our worship service today. But even though I poured the water on your heads—it wasn’t me who baptized you. And even though your parents brought you in faith to be baptized, it wasn’t their faith that “filled in” for yours because you were too young.

You came to be baptized as an infant, not knowing God, or having faith in God, human and not really worthy of such a gift. And yet God gave it to you, graciously, anyway. Baptism is something God does that we could never do ourselves. Baptism is belonging, it’s a promise of a life with God, it is being washed clean and made acceptable to God. Baptism is a free gift.

It is not the end of your story with God, however. It is only the beginning—over and over again anew beginning, a fresh slate. As often as you need to recall it, your baptism has the same power of forgiveness and inclusion that it did when you were still wet from it. The story continues as your parents tell you God’s story, bring you to worship, and encourage you to serve others in God’s name.

Here’s where we come in. We also promised this day to support you in your Christian journey, to pray for you, to teach you about Jesus in Sunday School—Anika, since you are a native New Hampshirite—but you too Lila—you’ll attend Sunday School in CT, but I hope you came to Sunday School here with your cousin when you visited her. We took responsibility for you as a community of believers, charged with making you into a follower of Jesus. If you’re reading this as teenagers, you probably have become ones.

But even if you find this is a closet when you’re forty four, having drifted away from God and the church—take it from us. It’s never too late to reconnect with your roots. And your roots will be there, because your baptism doesn’t have an expiration date, it doesn’t wear out, and it’s never obsolete. It’s always as fresh and good as today. If you wander know that there will always be someone here to welcome you home!

One more thing. The gospel for this morning, your baptism day, told the story of Jesus being asked to raise a little girl from death. This girl did not know Jesus. Her father was part of the group who opposed Jesus’ teachings. Jesus had no reason to help them at all. And yet Jesus went to their house, took that girl by the hand and she got up to live a new life created by Jesus Christ.

Lila and Anika, today Jesus comes to you and gives you a new life, as he did for all of us. It is a life filled with love and caring and joy, but it has its share of suffering and hardship as well. God’s mark that I traced on your forehead this day will always be there though—and come god or bad, God will be with you, loving you and guiding you along the way.

As we prayed God’s blessing on you and your new lives in Christ this day, so too do we ask God’s grace to be upon you now as you grow in faith and serve the Lord.

Your brothers and sisters in Christ,

Pastor Tom Teichmann and the People of Messiah

AMEN

What Did Jesus Mean?

2008-06-04T10:05:00.003-04:00

There are so many instances in the gospels when Jesus says something that makes you think, "Huh?" Of course there are many many more things he says that are crystal clear. But every once in a while, Jesus puts a spin on a situation and says something weird.

For instance, in the week's gospel Jesus is summoned to a synagogue leader's home where the daughter has just died. The father knows Jesus is a healer, and so hopes against hope that he can do something even at this point.

Jesus heads for the house, has an interlude with a sick woman who is cured when she touches Jesus' cloak, and finally arrives. The house is in full mourning mode--flutes and wails and the whole nine yards. Jesus opens his mouth and says--not what you might expect--but this:

"Go away; for the girl is not dead but sleeping."

This without seeing her. This with the father's admission that the girl had died. This in the face of the flute players and wailers who were hired for the funeral. Not dead--sleeping. What does that mean? Why did he say that?

It has been suggested that Jesus had insight into the girl's condition and knew she was in a deep coma. But the fact that she was dead is further attested to by Matthew who writes that the girl "got up," or arose--the standard terminology for resurrection.

More likely Jesus first wanted to get rid of the professional mourners, and at the same time relate something about physical death through the eyes of faith. It is like sleep--temporary--and ends in "getting up" with Jesus. Those who don't have faith in Christ and his resurrection laugh at such a notion, but we who believe trust in God's promise of resurrection.

Somewhere in Israel the molecules that made up the earthly body of that little girl are scattered. For though Jesus resuscitated her, she did die eventually. But she and those who followed her in a long line of witnesses to the truth are not dead. They're only sleeping. Resting in peace until that day Jesus grasps them by the hand and says, Wake up!"

Mom Always Said...

2008-06-03T10:48:00.001-04:00

Don't play ball in the house.

Don't cross your eyes--they'll get stuck like that.

Don't lean back in your chair.

Eat your vegetables.

These are things that mom always said, bless her heart, as she tried her best to tame a wild bunch of brothers in our house. Finally, after a long day of chasing after us, she'd say, "What am I going to do with you?" It was an exasperating statement to say the least. We usually added gas to the fire by saying something like, "Well, what do you want from us?"

That's basically how the Psalm for this week describes God's frustration with Israel--his people, who acted all proper-like on the outside, but were forgetting their heritage on the inside. Neglecting the poor, the sick and the widow and orphans. Not being truly thankful for all that God had done for them. Finally God says, "What am I to do with you?" God wants their steadfast love more than their religious rites, their sacrifices, their good behavior. He wants Israel to live in the love of the Lord--and all that follows.

I can imagine God still saying this. Because we sometimes just go through the motions of Christian love, relying on our attendance at church to make us righteous. But God wants mercy, not sacrifice. Love for one another, not empty rituals used to fulfill our obligations. God wants us to be what our rituals imply--that is God's people--serving each other in love, suffering for each other in solidarity, and encouraging each other to live for others and not only for yourself.

So what does God do with us? He loves us. He works tirelessly to make us holy and good. He never gives up on us. Just like mom.

Code Enforcer? (sermon draft 6/1/08)

2008-06-02T14:42:00.002-04:00

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

This is a tale of two houses, one built on a rock, in this case the “Rockpile,” as the summit of Mt. Washington is known. The other, built on sand, in this case beachfront in North Carolina.

Built in 1853 at a cost of $7000, the Tip Top House was the second “permanent” structure to be built on Mt. Washington, and is the only remaining original structure on the summit. It was preceded by several other buildings rendered less than permanent by the tremendous winds that occur up there. They literally blew away. The Tip Top house was used as a station house for the carriage road and a hotel.

The building itself is made of rocks levered into place, and is topped with a flat roof, so as to present little surface area to the high winds. Chains anchored into the rock summit help hold the roof on in winds that have been measured at 231 mph. The Tip Top House not only is built on a rock—it clings to it for dear life! The design must have been good, for it has outlasted every structure of its time, and a good many thereafter!

The other house is much more modern. Built in the 1930’s as a beach cottage, it suffered damage in a hurricane several years later, and was rebuilt as a year-round dwelling. Over the next sixty years the house was pummeled by wind and rain, suffered from an eroding shoreline, was nearly destroyed three times, and each time was rebuilt. The final blow to the house came in another hurricane the storm surge of which totally and completely wiped the house and street and all the property from the face of the earth. That address now is located underwater off the new coastline.

The wise man built his house upon the rock. The foolish man built his house upon the sand. So, what am I saying? That, if you own a house at the beach, you’re a fool? Not hardly (cause then you wouldn’t invite me over for the weekend!). But the evidence is right there and it’s irrefutable—if you want your house to be strong enough to hold up to the worst of storms—you had better build it on something solid.

Of course, now-a-days, there are strict building codes that govern exactly how a home is built, and what materials go into it. Places with extreme environmental risks—say, that of hurricane, or earthquake—have extra codes that must be adhered to. In the case of beachfront property, the code in most towns now requires that the structure be built elevated upon telephone-pole-width pilings, which in turn are driven deep into the sand.

How do municipalities ensure that these regulations are being adhered to? There is a Code Enforcement Officer who inspects the construction at various stages to make sure the will of the town is done. My son, Erik, after moving to PA, got a part time job as the Assistant Code Enforcer of the town he lived in. He was told that he would be the “second most hated man in town,” the Code Enforcer being number one! That’s because, surprise, surprise! No one likes to be wrong, or to have others discover where they might have fudged things a little to save time, money, or aggravation.

And that includes us. Not in building a house. In building a Christian life. Sometimes we take a shortcut, cheap out, or just get lazy, and subsequently we violate the “codes.” And who is there to call us on it? Who’s there to shine a flashlight on our substandard workmanship? To ask about the cracks in walls? To point out our errors and our willfull disobedience? Well…it seems from today’s passage from Matthew, that the Code Enforcer is…Jesus.

Yeah, Jesus comes off looking a little harsh this morning. He tells his disciples, that not everyone who says to him, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoa! Futhermore, on that day of judgment, even many of those who prophesy, exorcise, or do other deeds of power in his name will be denied a certificate of occupancy by the Lord. Hey, come on now! Those activities sound fairly meritful—didn’t Jesus say elsewhere that whoever isn’t against us is for us? Why is Jesus being such a pain? Isn’t he supposed to be all merciful and kind and forgiving and such? What gives?

The thing is—Jesus is not the Code Enforcer. Jesus didn’t come to us to enforce the law—he’s not grading you on your worthiness to be worthy of the kingdom. You’re not worthy—Paul says so in living color in the passage from Romans. “…all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” All.

But Jesus wasn’t sent to negate the law, either. He does not release us from obedience to God, but he does change how that obedience is experienced. No longer do we see the law as an impediment to our individual happiness. No more do we use the law as a means to win God’s favor and love. Instead, the law, and mainly our inability to keep it, drives us into the arms of a loving God. Where we are forgiven and rescued from the power of sin through Jesus Christ. Then, and only then—we are able to experience obedience to the law not as fearful compulsion, but instead as joyful honor. We gladly keep the law in thnksgiving for the grace given us. That is because we can now clearly see the scope of God’s plan and Jesus’ role in it—as Code Fulfiller, not code enforcer.

Now there’s a great amount of difference between the two. But suffice it to say that Jesus ushers in a new era in our relationship with God and Law. Whereas before the will of God could be equated with the Torah, the Law of Moses, now Jesus reveals that the will of the Father is for us to love God and love one another, as he does. Jesus, the Code Fulfiller, bridges the chasmic gap between Law and Salvation, not by destroying the Law, but by bringing it to perfection through his obedience on the cross. Jesus does what the law was intended always to do—bring us into right relationship with each other and with God.

That is the foundation of our faith. And the rock on which we build a Christian life is this new obedience, this hearing Jesus and acting upon what one has heard and experienced. Only these are able to bolster us in times of stress and questioning of that faith. Only these inspire us to do those things we’d rather not do, associate with people we’d normally not be caught dead with, give of ourselves when it is just as easy not to. Only grounded in the love of God and of one another can we genuinely reside in the kingdom of heaven.

For to be otherwise is to shortcut, cheap out, and willfully disregard God’s blueprint. What we end up with then is not a prison or hell per se, but instead we build for ourselves a facsimile kingdom, a movie set kingdom—one that looks right from one angle, but is really only a facade. So when we cry “Lord, Lord, we did such and such in your name,” Jesus doesn’t recognize it as real. So, Jesus’ words are a red flag on our building inspection sheet that says the way we are living can only end up disastrously.

Now, important to know. How do I go about building on the rock—how can I be sure I’m not on shifting sands? Some practical advice: when in doubt, let the Lord’s Prayer guide you. It says, “thy will be done.” Jesus said, “only the one that does the will of my Father in heaven” will enter the kingdom. So let the love of God and love of neighbor be your soil test. Is this my will be done, or thy will be done.

And if you’re still not sure, take Luther’s advice—do what you feel is right, and if it be a sin, the sin boldly—but trust ever more boldly in the grace of God. Amen

Invite

2008-05-28T09:06:00.002-04:00

Our mission statement here at Messiah is a couple of sentences long, and I can't remember it all the time. But it boils down to four words--which I always remember: Invite, Care, Grow, Share. Today I'd like to focus in on invite.

Everyone longs to be included--it's a basic human need. As a church, we invite people to join us in learning about God, worship, and fellowship. That's the broad stroke. There are many, many ways to include people in Messiah. I can them entry points, assuming they would be used primarily by those who are new to Messiah. But sometimes members who have been around a while become disconnected and need our love and assistance in getting back into life together.

What are some entry points--to which you can invite newcomers and old friends alike?

Dinners and picnics: either church meals, or at your home. Going to brunch after worship--invite some people to come along!

Adult Forum: this group is smaller so it's better for getting to know each other

Service projects: highway pick up can be fun, or take someone along with you as you serve at Ash Street, etc.

Special programs: like Ryan's concert, Captive free, Lutheran Disaster Relief, World Hunger, Christmas Pageant, VBS, etc.

If you look and think hard enough, many more ways to invite will present themselves. It's up to you though, to make the effort to include someone. But that's part of the mission, isn't it?

Hand Writing (sermon 5/25)

2008-05-27T08:57:00.002-04:00

This past Thursday was our 26^th wedding anniversary. And they said it wouldn’t last! Actually, according to those laws of the universe that we talked about last week, Lisa and I are destined to remain together. For it is universal law that states “opposites attract.” And Lisa and I—we couldn’t be more opposite!

She likes her Chinese food hot and spicy. Me, I stick to sweet and sour pork

I’m quiet and reserved. She’s boisterous and full of life.

She’s an adventurer and a traveler. My idea of an adventure is ordering something other than sweet and sour pork, and for me, a trip to the mall is traveling far enough.

I watch the Discovery and History Channels. She watches the food network and comedy central.

Lisa wears crocs. I prefer real shoes.

And finally, Lisa is the eternal optimist. While, as she will readily tell you, I am the world’s biggest pessimist. A pessimist is one who sees all too clearly the worrisome details of an event gone wrong. The word comes from the Latin meaning, worst. A pessimist sees, and anticipates, and expects, the worst that can happen. They worry constantly. So, Lisa sees the glass as half-full. I see the glass as too close to the edge of the table!

Now, as a real, bona fide, card carrying pessimist, I gotta tell you I am worried. Worried! Worried! Worried! About what? Lots of things. Big things: like the rising price of gasoline, the declining stock market, global warming, the war, and what is going to happen to all those people in China and Myanmar who are now threatened with dangerous diseases and exposure. I don’t know—maybe I watch too much news—but it seems like the world is in this tremendous death spiral, picking up speed and sucking the innocent and guilty alike into its terminal vortex. I worry about such things!

But I also worry about the mundane. Like, did I pack enough socks—what if a pair gets wet? Or what if we get in traffic and it makes us late? What if the lesson plan for confirmation comes up short and I’m facing 20 minutes with six bored confirmands, and nothing to do? What if, what if, what if? I worry about what if?

I’ll tell you what I don’t worry about. The things Jesus mentions in today’s gospel. What I will eat and what I will drink. Other than worrying whether some one remembered to take a steak out of the freezer for tonight’s dinner, or if there’s a gallon of milk in the fridge—I don’t worry about where my next meal is coming from. And clothes—I don’t worry about whether I’ll have clothes to wear. I may worry about choosing blue socks instead of black in the darkness of my predawn bedroom. I may fret because my favorite shirt is in the wash. But never do I worry about having a shirt—I’ve got a closet full of them—some I rarely even wear!

So, I’m in the clear, right? Me and Jesus—we’re okay? Not quite. It would seem so, based on a cursory reading and interpretation. But that’s where the principles of how Lutherans interpret the bible come into play. Now, if you’ve been attending Adult Forum you are familiar with how. But if you haven’t, first of all, please come, you learn things. And not to worry…I will explain the principles that apply here.

The most important principle to remember is that the bible contains what God wants us to know about God. Sometimes that’s right out front and easy to spot. And sometimes you have to work at it—it’s called bible study. In this gospel passage, Jesus wants us to know something about God. But it goes deeper than a simple message like “don’t worry, be happy!” If that is the truth to be gleaned from this gospel, then as a pessimist, I will most certainly end up begging cool glasses of water from my counterpart, Lisa.

Ah, but that’s where another principle of how Lutherans interpret the bible kicks in. Bible passages should be studied in context. Simply put, that means we need to know about the first listeners (both to Jesus’ words and to the printed gospel). We need to listen with their ears. Understand it as they did—before applying it to our lives.

So, who is Jesus addressing this to? Who gathered around him on the mount as he gave this sermon? Poor Jewish farmers and fishermen and laborers and crafts people, for the most part. Some more well-to-do folks. But, mostly, the population in that place and time was made up of people who definitely worried where their next meal was coming from, and how they might keep clothes on the backs of their children. These were not rich people who needed spiritual advice on the right use of money, the root of all evil. These were people who lived on the edge—just one failed crop, or lost net away from beggardom.

When Jesus tells this crowd to not worry about the basic necessities of life, that God takes care of the birds and flowers, so why not you—he’s asking them to literally put their lives in God’s hands. Now, for a guy who can change water into wine and feed a legion with a couple of loaves of peasant bread and a few dried fish that’s pretty easy to say. For the poor it’s hard to do. Imagine the impact of this statement!

What can Jesus possibly say to these people to convince them that what he suggests will indeed be a worry-free existence, rather than, as reason might dictate, one fraught with worries? Here’s what he can say. “For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things…but you, you strive for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness.” Now for the people gathered there that day, who is it that Jesus compares the Gentiles to? Who is the implied “you” in this verse? Gentiles were those who were not Jews. Subsequently, the “you” is God’s people, Israel.

There is a difference for them, Jesus implies—they are God’s chosen nation. They are in relationship with a god who has proven trustworthy time and time again. One whose promises are sure and certain. One who will never forget them. What did it say in that first reading from Isaiah? “Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I, the Lord, will not forget you. See I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.”

I love that image. I have written your name on the palms of my hands. Back in grade school, some of the kids—not me of course—used to write the answers to test questions on the palms of their hands. So that, during the test, they’d be able to “remember.” That’s what I thought of when I first heard this reading. That God wrote Israel on the palms of his hands to remind him, in those difficult moments in their relationship that, yes Israel—my people. Not that God needs a cheat sheet. Maybe it’s better to think of it as a tattoo. They say the one thing you shouldn’t get as a tat is your girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s name—cause they come and go. “Mother” is much safer. God has no such qualms, though. God is forever willing to call Israel his people.

So willing, writes scholar Terry Fretheim, that God actually can’t forget! This is God limiting God. And in so doing, Israel actually becomes part of God’s identity. God is forever known as the God of Israel. And so, when Jesus says, “You strive instead for the kingdom of God,” he’s reminding the crowd that the God of Israel, the God of Moses, the God of Abraham and Sarah, of David and Solomon, of Ruth and Deborah—the God of the covenant is the only one in whom they can place their trust. Because God will not forget them. Don’t spend your energy striving after something that does not satisfy, that can be here today and gone tomorrow. Strive for what is forever—the kingdom of the God who has your name on his palms!

Back to how Lutherans interpret the bible. We now know that for the people who first heard Jesus, the call to not worry about food and clothing was a call to set aside their concern for their lives. For myself, and for all of you I presume, the words don’t carry the same weight. We live in relative abundance. We have health and disability insurance. We have savings accounts and IRAs and (401)Ks, and mutual funds. We have too much food, too much to drink, and too many clothes.

Our worries go in different directions. We worry that when it all comes down to it, our life will have no meaning. We worry that everything that defines who we are—home, job, family, cars, possessions—that everything might be lost in an instant, the way it has been for the victims of tornadoes this past week. We worry that our children might not be able to play outside anymore, or that our adult children may be the first generation to not surpass their parents’ living. We worry that our aged parents will one day die—leaving us orphans. These are some of our daily worries—optimists and pessimists alike.

And what is Jesus’ message for us then? Well, for one who seeks meaning in his life—he should strive for a good relationship with God, not fame or fortune or power. For the love of God is what brings meaning to life. For those who fear losing everything—they should strive to make God their everything, for God will not abandon them. For those who worry that the world is no longer a place of security and economic opportunity—they place their trust in the God who demonstrates power through weakness, for whom gain is loss and loss gain. For the kingdom of God is not Kansas, Toto. And for those who dread the passing of their parents—they would be better off helping them review their lives and prepare for life in the kingdom, for their place there is certain.

What’s your worry? How do you deal with it? I make lists, and over plan, and over compensate, and double and triple check everything. And for some things, maybe that’s not such a bad idea. Being a pessimist is not a sin. Being an optimist is not a virtue. It’s just the way you are. It’s how we handle worry that I telling—especially the big worries.

What is your biggest worry? Whatever it is, I encourage you to put aside your vain attempts at addressing it—stop striving for certainty where it cannot be found. And instead spend that energy trusting and hoping and loving God. The god known as the God of Israel, of Ryan, of Dean, of Michael, of …., of you all. God will not forget you. AMEN

Be Still, part two

2008-05-23T09:21:00.002-04:00

Yesterday we talked about stilling the soul, and what does that for you. It was based on Psalm 131 that says in part, "I still my soul and make it quiet...my soul is quieted within me."

Okay, so you're at your "quiet place," you're listening to music, reading devotional material, enjoying nature--and your soul is still. Everything chaotic in your life drops away.

What's next?

The psalm says, "wait upon the Lord." But what does that mean for us today?

Two possibilities, I think. First, be patient, and let that patience fill the quietness of your soul, so that when you return to that which troubles you, you might know that the Lord triumphs ultimately and definitively.

Second, I believe to wait upon the Lord in the quietness of your soul means to listen, really listen for God. And listening is hard work. It involves emptying oneself and letting God in--without worrying about what to say, defenses to make, excuses to render. Just listen Don't worry that you don't "hear" anything. Don't prepare your answer ahead of time. Just listen quietly.

You may think that I'm going to say, "If you do this, you'll hear God in some way." I make no such claim. But the quieting of the soul, the listening--the openness to God--that is enough. It is time well spent.

Be Still

2008-05-22T09:44:00.002-04:00

Psalm 131 says, "...I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother's breast; my soul is quieted within me." The psalmist is acknowledging that the world is a tough place to understand sometimes--even to the point of not being able to "see" God at work in them. Things rush at us so quickly, we don't have the time or energy to get a handle on life--instead letting life handle us.

The psalmist has a remedy for this, however. It's stiling the soul. That is, he sets aside all the things flying at him-his doubts, misunderstandings, and ignorance, and just quiets himself. Like a baby at her mother's breast--calm and peaceful.

How does he do it? That isn't told us. But we have experience in stilling the soul. Whether it's listening to the prelude before worship, or hiking through the forest, or reading a devotional book, or playing a musical instrument--we all have developed ways of stepping off the carousel of life and letting God wash over us.

For me, watching water move does the trick. Sometimes I watch the water flow by in a brook, and what I really love is standing on the dock at our house on the big lake and watching the water ripple and wave, and blow around in the breeze. This both clears my mind, and stills my soul.

What does it for you? Is it an activity? A place? A person? Tell me--I'd love to know!

Tomorrow - Listening in the stillness

Good Things (sermon draft 5/18)

2008-05-21T09:19:00.002-04:00

Have you ever heard of “universal law?” Universal law is a collection of axioms that govern the way things are. Gravity. Gravity is a universal law. Likewise, the law of attraction, the force that holds molecules together, is a universal law.

Then there are the lesser known universal laws. These are the ones that seem to govern human existence. For instance—Murphy’s Law. Murphy’s Law states that if something can go wrong—it probably will. I think it especially pertains to power point presentations here at worship. Never a smooth undertaking! Thanks to Murphy’s Law.

There’s a whole bunch more, according to my reliable reference, Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader. But the universal law I really want to call to your attention today is this one—have you ever heard of it? Goes like this: “Bad news (or bad things) come in threes.” E.g.: You wake up one morning and find that the alarm didn’t go off—making you late for work. (That’s one.) So, you run outside to your car, and it’s got a flat tire—making you even later for work. (Two.) You finally get on the road and things are looking pretty good—no traffic! You begin to think that your luck is turning and that other shoe won’t drop. Then you get to the office and it’s empty! Because it’s Saturday. (Three.) Bad things come in threes.

People believe that bad news comes in threes as well. Someone you know falls ill, another loses her job, and then—bam—a third splits up with his wife. Or you get an F on a test, your iPod gets confiscated (again!), and then—boom—you find out your sister already got the car for Friday night! Bad news comes in threes—makes you especially wary if you’ve already received two pieces of bad news. Then you dread the ring of the telephone, or opening the newspaper, or turning on the television.

And yet, the flip side of the bad news/bad things coin is that people also say “good news comes in threes,” and “good things come in threes.” For example, this good news scenario: you find a dollar on the street (one), with which you buy a winning lottery ticket (two), the proceeds of which you donate to your church (three). Or consider these great things that come in threes: a three ring circus, the Three Stooges, or the Cordts triplets.

Makes me wonder though. What the deal with “three?” Why is it bad news, or good news for that matter, comes in threes? Why not pairs, or fours, or sixes?

Well, three has always been one of those “special” numbers. It’s a prime number—divisible only by one and itself. In geometry, three points define a triangle—the only “perfect” geometric figure—one that if all endpoints were to become hinged, would always keep its shape. And in the most ancient art of storytelling, things always happen in threes. It serves to heighten the drama in the story. (This porridge is too hot, this porridge is too cold, this porridge is just right.) Jesus even used this device in his parables, best example being the Good Samaritan.

Three is the number representing simple symmetry-a center point with two equidistant endpoints. It’s also the lowest number of voters needed to achieve a majority in a bi-party political system (not counting super delegates). There are three dimensions to space—length, width, and depth. And three parts to human beings—mind, body, and spirit.

The use of the number three in folk adages might be reflective of any of these. But personally, though, I believe the phenomena is caused by something much more profound—something that was first described for me by one of my seminary professors, Dr. Larsen, who Lisa, his secretary, always accused of making up theological words. He said that the world—the whole universe—is ingrained with the imprint of its creator. The mark of God is left upon all creation, much as our fingerprints adorn things we make and do, much as a painter signs her masterpiece.

And what is that mark of God? Trinity. Three, yet one. One, but also three. Everything in the universe bears the mark of the Trinity deep within its being. Imagine little triangles on a microcosmic level, winding and twisting like divine DNA, identifying each plant, animal, and landscape as the Triune God’s. Even you carry the mark of the maker—or, should I say, especially you? For not only do you bear God’s triune mark, you also were created in the image of the Trinity. Father, Son, Spirit—one God. Body, mind, spirit—one human being. An imperfect image, but an image none the less. Marked by three. The Trinity.

Good things come in threes. Really great things come in threes. Here’s an example that you hear each and every Sunday morning in worship, that maybe you haven’t paid much attention to, or just never appreciated the depth and breadth of what it implies. It comes from our second reading this morning, 2 Corinthians 13:13, and in our liturgy, it’s called the “Apostolic Greeting”.

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” To which you reply—“And also with you.”

This verbiage is perhaps so commonplace and so routine for you, that you may do what a certain congregation did when its pastor was having trouble with the sound system one morning. Coming to the front of the sanctuary for the greeting, and fumbling with the transmitter in his pocket, he blurted out, “There’s something wrong with this microphone.” To which the congregation dutifully replied, “And also with you!”

But seriously—have you ever thought about what this greeting conveys to us all? It’s nothing short of fantastic! Three things offered by the three persons of the Trinity. Each related to that person, each building upon what was offered prior, and each reflecting the unity of the Trinity.

First there is grace—undeserved favor, unworthy forgiveness, unearned merit—grace. A free gift given to you based solely on the goodness and obedience and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, God’s son and our “Lord,” or one with power over us. How strange and wonderful it is that Jesus’ death on the cross at the hands of a rebellious humanity was in and of itself the event that rescued us all from sin and death!

For us that grace means freedom. Freedom from the specter of an angry, vengeful God, who exacts punishment upon people trying desperately to do enough to appease him. Freedom from our vain attempts to save ourselves, or justify our existence bfore God Almighty. Freedom to instead love one another and serve God just because that grace was first given to us.

“The love of God…” Science tells us that “to love and to be loved” are two, basic, human needs. Scripture tells us that God is love. To be loved by God is therefore a very primal human need, one needed to be met—even if we can’t put a finger on exactly what’s missing. Unfortunately, or sin turns us away from God’s love and turns us in on ourselves in selfish self love. Our relationship with God becomes skewed by our feelings of guilt, so that we run from him, instead of into his loving arms.

Jesus’ gracious trade of our sins for his merit—achieved on the cross, called by Luther “the happy exchange,” transforms our relationship with God from dysfunctional to right again. We are able once again to feel and respond to God’s love, and then to join with God in his mission to have everyone experience that love.

Which we do through the church—the communion of the Holy Spirit. We are linked by the gift of the Spirit given to each of us at baptism. “Communion” of the Holy Spirit brings to mind a gathering around the table of the Lord—which, in our Eucharistic theology includes Christians of every time and place.

But the word ‘communion,’ while expressive of the inclusiveness of the gathering, perhaps doesn’t convey all the meaning of the Greek word used here which is koinenia. Often times the words “fellowship,” or “community” are used to translate it. But even these fall short of Paul’s meaning and the Spirit’s intentions.

A koinenia is more like a gathering of shareholders in a common endeavor. We might call them “partners,” or “associates.” Everyone has a stake in the success of the organization’s mission. That is what “the communion of the Holy Spirit” really implies. We are given a stake in God’s mission of spreading the good news of his love in the grace of Jesus Christ. We participate not as lackeys, not as hired hands, but as partners in mission. And being a partner in mission, I think you’ll agree, is a far cry from being a member of the church. The latter involves privilege and rights. The former, service and commitment. The gift of the Spirit is an active role in the gathering of God’s people.

So, there’s one example of good things coming in threes on this day of the Trinity. Surely you can think of three more blessings from God which you could celebrate this morning. In the time between “amen” and the singing of the hymn of the day, turn to someone seated next to you and let them know what three pieces of good news or three good things you see marked by the Trinity today!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN

Sew What?

2008-05-16T10:42:00.001-04:00

"Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their multitude." Genesis 2:1

Our church has been transformed into a maze of colors and shapes. The local quilters' guild is having their annual quilt show here at Messiah. So the sanctuary is bedecked with quilts, the hallways are hung with quilts, and the narthex is...well, you get the picture. Plus our parish house has been transmogrified into a tea room, decorated with--you guessed it--quilts! Long story short, there are about a hundred quilts hanging in various spots at Messiah this weekend. I am reminded of the Shakers who are still in existence here in New Hampshire--whose quilts are legendary. They say, "hands to work, hearts to God!' I am boggled by the number of hours hands must have worked to produce these creations!

At least the ones that are finished, that is. For I'm told that for every quilt a quilter finishes, there are at least half a dozen that remain only partly done. UFO's they're called--unfinished objects! I believe it, because I've seen my wife's collection of UFO's!!

Genesis 2 begins with all the heavens and the earth finished--which marks a static point in prehistory, the occasion for a rest, a balance achieved, rather than an ending point to creation. For we know that God is continually creating and that we play a part in this, not only through the children we bring into the world, but by the things we create, be they works of fabric art, or cucumber sandwiches, or an "A" on a spelling test, or the perfect engineering drawing.

In a way we are God's UFO"s and God isn't finished with us yet. We are beautiful, but the best is yet to come!

Thanks be to God!

Happy Birthday Lisa

2008-05-14T14:23:00.002-04:00

Today is my wife, Lisa's, birthday.

Shopping for a present for her this year has again been fruitless--I never know what to get her, and she never can think of anything she wants. Oh, I suppose I could just pick something (anything) up and wrap it up and give it to her--thus fulfilling my husbandly duty. But I have the fatal flaw that I want to get her something she'll absolutely love, something extraordinarily meaningful--and that's difficult for me to find. So I run out of time and end up with nothing. Being able to select great gifts for people is, in itself, a gift!

Don't worry--I'll find something. It won't ever be able to match up with what I'd give her if I could. And it will never say "I love you" as much as she deserves. But in some small way it will let her know that she's important in my life--that her coming into this world is a moment I thank God for! Because, truth be told, I get the best present on Lisa's birthday. It's a gift from God.

And her name is Lisa.

Creation I

2008-05-13T10:34:00.003-04:00

"And God saw that it was good..."

Funny how the lectionary works. The very Sunday after I talk about God's creation sequel--Pentecost (see Sunday's sermon 5/11)--the creation story pops up. It's there for the same reason about that I used it as an illustration last week--because it shows the three persons of the Godhead active in creation (including the Spirit "wind of God").

But I don't want to get into the Trinity yet--there's time for that later as we speed towrds Holy Trinity Sunday. What I want to talk about is a fairly provocative idea that surfaced in a lecture I went to while in Gettysburg.

The lecture was on the Old testament law and the Christian, and it covered a lot of ground. One part of it talked about the fall of Adam and Eve and the creation. And what the speaker said that I still recall (and pardon me if it's out of context) was that the scripture says God made the universe and it was good--not perfect.

It makes sense--if the creation was perfect then there'd be no sin and decay and death. Being "good" denotes God's pleasure and satisfaction at what he'd done--but leaves room for what eventually happens. A perfect world needs no God.

This way of looking at things is different from the way I'm used to. To me "good" meant it was not bad--not shoddy worksmanship--worthy of God's love and concern. This rating of good negates the position of those who say this world is evil and to be escaped from--a husk we should shed, including our mortal bodies. The creation is a-okay in God's eyes.

But.. not perfect. Perfection is God's alone. Not to say that, redeemed and reconciled in Christ, we aren't moving in that direction. That's the work of continuing creation through the Holy Spirit. We'll only reach it in the new Jerusalem, however.

Well, I'm not done rolling this one around in my head. I'll have to do some reading and think some more on it. In the meantime, enjoy the creation story this week in church!

Creation II (sermon 5-11-08)

2008-05-11T19:20:00.000-04:00

Summer’s almost here! Really! Don’t believe it? Check the marquee at your local movie theater. The summer blockbusters are already showing up there. Iron Man, Speed Racer, The Incredible Hulk. Each one hoping to break the box office—to become the next Star Wars. Each one dreading becoming the next Ishtar.

Sequels are always among the big summer blockbusters. They’re hit or miss as to quality and success. For instance, Superman 2 was far better than Superman 1. But Rocky (what is it?) 15 or something, may have been better off left in the can!

There are several big sequels scheduled for release this summer. The fourth installment of the Indiana Jones series. The second part of The Chronicles of Narnia. Harold and Kumar’s second adventure. But no summer blockbuster sequel could ever have the effect that God’s sequel has had. God’s sequel? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s called Creation 2: The Spirit Returns. Otherwise known as Pentecost.

Well. Perhaps, for you, that’s making about as much sense as the end of Lost in Translation. (Go rent the movie. Then you’ll get it.) Well f so, just hang in there—I’m going to explain what I mean. First of all, why am I calling Pentecost a second creation event? Creation took millions of years to accomplish, or at the very least six days. Pentecost is only one day. How could it be the new creation? Easy. I don’t mean it literally, I don’t mean it metaphorically either. I mean it theologically. Theologically speaking, Pentecost is the moment of new creation. Why do I think that? What scripture do I have to offer in support of this claim?

“In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void, and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light. And there was light.’” (Genesis 1:1-2) The wind of God blows across the vast, dark, chaotic nothingness of pre-creation and is present as God’s word brings light. This “wind of God” has been identified by scholars as the Spirit. So, the Spirit is present at the moment of transition from chaos to creation, from darkness to light, the moment of creation.

Cut to a house in first century Jerusalem. The disciples are cooped up there—partly in fear of the authorities, partly due to the paralyzing effects of not knowing what to do next. Jesus had been raised, but then had ascended into heaven—leaving them confused, afraid, and alone. All was chaos.

But then something happens. Even though the windows are shuttered and the door closed and locked, the sound of wind is heard—faintly at first, then louder and louder—until it fills the whole house with its rushing noise. The Spirit of God is sweeping over a chaotic humanity in preparation for a new creation!

Now consider the Genesis 2 creation account. It says that, “the LORD God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” (Genesis 2:7) Ruah, the Hebrew word for wind, can also be translated breath. So the figure of speech “breath of God” can also be taken to imply the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Now the gospel of John has no Pentecost account per se. But it does have the passage we read this morning, which is definitely analogous to the story in Acts 1. In both, the disciples are all in one place. In both, Jesus is no longer with them (in Acts he has ascended, in John he’s presumed dead - this is a resurrection appearance) In both, the Spirit is imparted to the disciples. So, while John 20:19-23 isn’t the story of Pentecost, it is a story of the gift of the Spirit at the end of Jesus’ earthly mission. The same as Acts 2.

And a highlight of our John passage is that Jesus imparts the Holy Spirit by breathing on the disciples. Which is close enough in my book to the Genesis 2:7 verse we heard just moments ago. Now, for those of you who are detail oriented (picky) and who remind me that the LORD God breathed life into Adam, not Spirit, I would say to you—first off, “Chill out.” And then I’d let you know that the Greek word pneuma, which is translated and used for the word Spirit, also translates as “life force, or that which animates.” So there! As God created humanity with a breath, so too, Jesus re-creates the disciples by breathing on them.

This notion of mine isn’t without further support. Indeed the motif of the new creation winds its way first though all the gospels, and then shows up in Paul’s writings, as well as the Revelation to John. Not all scholars would place the moment of re-creation at Pentecost, most I’d say would mark that transition from chaos to order with the Paschal event. But when pushed to say if it’s the one or the other, I’d vote for both—which isn’t a cop out—but rather an acknowledgement that what we’re talking here is theology, not history. We’re not looking to establish when God re-creates the world. We’re just saying that through Christ and the Spirit, God re-creates the world! That’s what God is saying to us through the various scriptures hauled out to support either option.

In other words, think of these various biblical passages as Tootsie Roll Lollipops. Now, you can see that each one has a different color and flavor. But whether you lick it or bite it—when it comes right down to it, it’s still the same chocolaty goodness at the center. Theology is the chewy center of scripture – it’s what we can confidently say about God after sampling all scripture has to offer.

And, like I said several pages ago, what Pentecost boils down to is this: it is God’s re-creation of the world, through Christ and the Spirit. Not just Happy Birthday Church. Not just a miracle of communication. Definitely not a margarita party that got out of hand. The disciples weren’t drunk. They were infused with the power of the Holy Spirit, which swept over the dark waters before time began, which, at God’s behest, filled the lungs and then blood and then cells and then organs and then limbs of human beings and gave them life. That same power of the Spirit now re-created and re-animated their bodies, minds and spirits—opening the door and blowing them out to a world also made new by the presence of the Spirit in its midst. It’s a second chance at paradise. A recapitulation of all things. A do-over. The cross made it possible. The resurrection prefigured it. And the Spirit arrived to usher it in. “Creation II: The Spirit Returns! Now playing in a life situation near you.” [said in that movie trailer guy voice]

Now playing in a life situation near you. That was a joke, but not really. And I don’t mean because it bombed. I mean, it was meant to be humorous, but it reflects reality. The Spirit is now playing in a life situation near you. That’s a big part of what Pentecost is all about. It’s part of why we wear red and decorate the sanctuary and use the symbols of flame, wind, and dove. We’re celebrating the presence of the Holy Spirit in our world and in our lives. And why is that so important?

Because, sometimes—despite the forgiveness that was won for us on Jesus’ cross, and despite the future promised us by his resurrection—despite all that, we can still feel lost and abandoned by God in the face of horrendous life events beyond our control.

Events such as we’ve seen this past week in Burma—with thousands upon thousands of people dead, and thousands more homeless, without medical aide, food or safe water—all of which have all been blocked by the repressionist government there. It’s difficult to feel the love of God in this life situation.

Or in an event like the unspeakable evil of a father keeping his daughter captive in the basement for years, along with the children he conceived with her by force. Where’s God in that?

And where’s God in a diagnosis of cancer? Or the foreclosure of a home? Or the descent into addictive behavior or depression? Where’s God in the ravaged refugee camps in northern Africa. Or for that matter, in the poverty riddled neighborhoods of the United States of America—the wealthiest country in the world – in which children still die from lack of medical care every day?

Where is God in all of these situations and more? Where is God in the darkness, the violence, and the emptiness of our lives—the chaos that creeps in and digs its claws into us, debilitating us, even though we share in the power of the cross and the resurrection? Where? I think the great theologian Bob Dylan perhaps said it best. “The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind. The answer is blowing in the wind.”

The Spirit of God sweeps across the abyss of our brokenness, making itself known in ways that are reflective rather than direct—just like the wind is “seen” in the swaying of the trees, or the dance of fall leaves. The Spirit “moves” people. Look around and you’ll see them. The Spirit is there signaling the transition from darkness to light, from chaos to order, from evil to goodness. Calling people to Jesus, gathering them up in the church, enlightening them with gifts, and sending them out in the word to be Christ’s body in the world.

In the case of Myanmar, the rush of spirit-filled wind could be heard in the world’s growing anxiety over the condition of the survivors, and in their lament of the tremendous loss of life. But the Spirit also brings with it a new creation. A new creation of concern for the people in this country, previously ignored, who suffer now, and who have suffered for many years prior under the military thumb of an isolationist government. Myanmar calls out for God’s justice. What will be our answer? Do you hear it in the wind?

And do you hear the wind of God sweeping over the chaos in your life? Listen for it, for it signals a new beginning for you. A fresh slate with God.

And listen. Do you hear the sound of Spirit wind all around you, catching you up in its power, bidding you to do God’s will. Can you see those around you—brothers and sisters in Christ—who are in need of your involved friendship and concern—who need to be gathered back into the bosom of the church, to be nurtured and made new there? The Spirit moves you to help re-create the love and security these ones once felt within these walls. Do you hear it?

And, listen—do you hear the Spirit’s restless voice filling every nook and cranny of this sanctuary today? And Jesus breathing on you, granting you the Spirit and empowering you each with gifts. Gifts given to be shared with the world. Do you know what gifts the Spirit’s given you? Do you know how best to use them? Are you using them?

Pentecost. A new creation. Listen. Can you hear it?

[sound of rushing wind fills the sanctuary.]

Seeking

2008-05-10T18:51:00.003-04:00

Seek and you will find

Lisa and I do geocaching. No that's not some European spa treatment. It's like a treasure hunt using a GPS unit to locate a "cache" which is a waterproof container holding a log book, some trinkets to trade, and sometimes geo-coins (they're way cool). It's a fun hobby and gets us out in the countryside searching for the glory of finding.

The problem is--sometimes (like today) you come up empty. The first cache we tried to locate was off through some heavy brush alongside a lake--a half mile away. No thanks! The second we just could not find! The GPS is only so accurate, and I guess it couldn't get a lock on the satellites needed for a find. Frustrating. 0 for 2 this day.

I have days like that even when I'm not geocaching, though. I seek God's will and can't get a lock on it. I seek the righteous path but it seems too hard to follow. I seek understanding and the knowledge of God and my sensors are all obstructed with the clutter of my life and the distractions the world brings into it. Some days I feel 0 for 2, or worse.

But I take heart and comfort that God walks through the wilderness with me, and even if I can't feel his presence he guides me--constantly pointing me in the right direction through the means of grace. He finds me really--for all my seeking it comes down to just that. It's God who finds me. The seeker is the one sought.

I'm the treasure! And so are you.

Ghost Tours

2008-05-08T09:55:00.001-04:00

"All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit..." Acts 2

We were just in Gettysburg this past month, returning to the Seminary for my tenth year class reunion--and to visit our son and our daughter in law, who is a second year student. Living in or visiting Gettysburg are interesting things to do. There's a lot of history there--also a lot of hype and hoopla.

For instance, Ghost Tours. Evidently a local author has documented stories of restless souls roaming the battlefield and town--and even the seminary. He's written several books on the topic--and a Ghost Tour has even sprung up, visiting the haunted sites by lamp light.

I remember back in my time at the sem my friend and his family lived in one of the historic buildings there. Obviously influenced by the ghost industry in town, the children of the family told my friend they had seen a ghost in the basement. His reply was great. "The only ghost here is the Holy Ghost!"

I don't know why or when we got away from using the term Holy Ghost, but I'd like you to consider for a moment where in our lives together as Christians we might bring people on a Holy Ghost tour - a Spirit tour.

Maybe you'd stop in your Sunday School rooms, where the Spirit nurtures with the Word. Perhaps next you'd go to the font, where the Spirit is given in baptism. Then maybe you'd take visitors to the local food pantry, or homeless shelter--the Spirit sending us out into the word to do justice. Finally, you might take people outside to feel the breeze blowing--and tell them about the Spirit blowing where it will, leading in directions unforeseen!

A Holy Spirit tour of your church! I think it would be fun to do sometime. Not scary at all!

The Good News Comes in Many Forms

2008-05-07T10:45:00.003-04:00

I think it was attributed to St. Francis. He told his followers, "Preach the gospel at all times. If necessary, use words." Meaning that our actions can be just as powerful witness to the love of Christ as our verbal witness.

Here in the Great White North, there's an organization--an offshoot of Lutheran Social Services--that gets donated cars, fixes them up and gives them to people who couldn't afford a vehicle otherwise. It's called Good News Garage, and its founder, Hal Colston (who I know from Synod Council) was interviewed by Tiki Barber on the Today Show yesterday.

It's worth a watch. So copy and paste this into your browser address bar, or go to Delicious Places to Visit (on the left--scroll down). And see for yourself the good that can be done when faith hope and love are activated in service!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/24482180#24482180

You Gotta Love a God

2008-05-06T14:30:00.003-04:00

There go the ships to and fro, and Leviathan, which you made for the sport of it. --Psalm 104

Here's an interesting bible passage. Psalm 104 is a praise song, that wonders and marvels at God's creation and ongoing care of it. Also God's power in those acts. What I find interesting about this verse is that Leviathan (a sea monster-ish, whale-ish creature) is said to be made just for the "sport" of it. In other words, God made some creatures and things just for the sheer fun of doing so.

I get the picture of God chuckling and smiling fondly at newly created Leviathan. No rhyme or reason for such a big fish. Just because.

There's parts of my being that I think God created for the sport of it. Not as a joke, or on a dare--but just because. At least I can't figure out why! Why for example did God make my back itch when I can't reach to scratch it? And why did God give me such a droll sense of humor? No reason--no reason other than God could and did.

You gotta love a God who creates things for the pure joy and creative exercise he gets from it. It sounds like good fun! What can you create in your world "just for the sport of it?"

Me? I'm thinking Oreo Pizza!

LYO--NNEMA Style!

2008-05-05T10:46:00.002-04:00

I went to the Northern New England Mission Area Lutheran Youth Organization lock in Saturday night. That's a mouthful--let me break it down.

First "Lutheran Youth Organization." That's a group to which all ELCA (that's our denomination abbreviation) Lutheran high school aged youth belong. It's run differently in various areas, and some places don't have the organization--even though they have the Lutheran Youth. This lock in was the first meeting of this particular area's LYO. A kick off--organizing the organization!

Northern New England. That's part of the ELCA New England "Synod" which is a cluster of churches grouped together for mission together and support of each other. The northern designation includes all of Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont--as well as two churches in upstate New York near the Vt border.

Mission Area. That's a smaller band of churches in a specific context that work together on issues and projects that impact them locally, and work on global issues and projects from a grassroots level. The formation of a Youth Organization that serves such a huge geographical area will be a challenge. but it is exactly the contextual type of issue these groupings were meant to address.

Back to the lock in itself. It was remarkable mainly for its leadership in planning and carrying it off. Several youth did the lion's share of the job. Which means not only are they learning to be leaders in the church, but also that this will be a group that is totally youth-led, with adults serving only in a guidance capacity. This will truly be a gift to the church and her youth!

I left the lock in early to get back to Messiah for worship. But those who stayed had fun, learned about themselves and God, and started a new youth movement up her in the great white north!

God bless their continued work!!

May (scratch that) Ascension Day

2008-05-01T10:37:00.001-04:00

Have you ever been to NYC—Manhattan I mean. Ever been? You know how you can tell the first time visitors to Manhattan? They’re the ones doing this (gawk upwards, point upwards, take picture upwards). Now, granted, the New York City skyscrapers are an awesome sight to behold. They’re captivating. But, as any native New Yorker would tell you—real life happens on street level.

There you see your pedestrians, your yellow cabs and buses, your food vendors, your shop windows, your various and sundry festivals and parades, and of course—your homeless people. Everyone and everything in a constant state of motion, surging at the cross walks, piling up around the entrances to the subway. It’s a river of humanity, flowing through the streets, nourishing the city with its life.

So, contrary to their first inclinations, tourists in Manhattan would get a better understanding of the city if they stopped looking up, and instead just looked around.

That’s what the angel says to the slack-jawed disciples as they stand on the mountain and watch Jesus slowly ascend into heaven—getting smaller and smaller, until the couldn’t even see him anymore—but couldn’t drag their eyes from the sight, either. “Men of Galilee, why are you looking up?” Jesus has gone to the Father. And he wants you to pick up where he left off. So look around. Assess the situation. Decide what needs to be done, figure out what needs to be said. And then do them and say them. Because life goes on down there, and you’ve got a job to do.

As do we. We are loved by a gracious God, who gave Jesus to take away our sin—we are free. And the promise of the resurrection has us dreaming of that one fine day, when tears will be no more, and sickness fade away, and strife end. We’re looking up to the great by and by. And that’s okay—for a while. But life happens at street level, and Jesus would want us to be there—not on the 100^th floor. So today, get your head out of the clouds. Look around with a Jesus eye. What can you do to tell that story? What can you do to point the way to Christ? And what can you learn from those whom you encounter—on the streets with Jesus?

Hawk or Dove?

2008-04-30T09:20:00.002-04:00

"Le t God arise, and let God's enemies be scattered..
.let the wicked perish at the presence of God."
Psalm 68:1,2b

Remember the good old days of Saturday Night Live--with Belushi, Akroyd, et al? And Gilda! She was a comic genius! Remember the bit she did on the pseudo-news program they did. She'd start talking about something obviously mangled in vocabulary or syntax, and talk it into the ground before the anchor would correct her. To which she would reply to the camera, "Never mind!"

One of the mistaken issues she commented upon was "Violins on TV." She had much to say about squeaky notes and why not give other instruments a chance, etc. Then Akroyd tells her, "That's violence on TV, not violins."

That's kind of what I think when I read Psalms and other texts where God is described as a mighty warrior, scattering the enemies (and much worse) I want to be able to say, "That's violins in the Bible, not violence." But I can't - because the scriptures are full of violence. If the bible was a cable tv channel, I would think many of us would block big parts of it. (Sorry, Joshua--but the destruction of Jericho is just too gory for my children. I'm going to have to block you!)

But here's the real kicker. The psalms and other scriptures also praise God for his mercy, his steadfast love of Israel, and his overriding concern for those on the fringes of life. "Your people found their home in your goodness O God." (Ps 68:10a) "Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you in due time..." 1 Peter5:6

So this begs the question-is God a hawk or dove. A mighty warrior who routs his enemies by casting a holy terror upon them? Or is God a God of mercy and justice for all? The answer to this conundrum is, maddeningly, "yes."

Yes, God was experienced as a warrior God by the people of Israel in biblical times. The word of God reflects that experience and speaks to it as well. The world is a violent place, due to sin--and so God's truth is couched within that milieu. The power of God was depicted by the writers of the Old Testament, especially, as greater than what was known to be the greatest power on earth then - a mighty army. (Nowadays God's power is perhaps described more in the creative rather than destructive mode--power that created the vast universe.)

And yes, God's mercy is universal for those who respond to it, and God is a suffering God who knows our vulnerabilities and acts to alleviate them justly. God speaks in a new way through his Word--Jesus Christ. Not negating his power, but revealing that there is strength in weakness that goes beyond all military might--the power of redemption and reconciliation and resurrection!

So we are left as usual with a paradox. God is dangerously violent in response to the wickedness of the world. And God is merciful and kind to the needy. We can't ignore one in favor of the other. But we can say that the definitive revelation of who God is and what God is all about came through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. To know him is to know God ultimately. So, although I cringe at the violence in the bible, I understand that in the end, when it comes down to it all--God is good, powerfully gracious! And truth be told--scripture that avoided the evil and violence in the world would be like living in a bubble--safe but unreal.

Cue the violins! ...Never mind!

Are We There Yet?

2008-04-29T09:56:00.002-04:00

The disciples asked him, "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" - Acts 1:6

I recently went on a trip to Gettysburg for a continuing education event and class reunion. It was fun--except for the long drive (8 hours). Kinda reminded me of our marathon trips up north from the Carolinas, back when I was a camp director. Those were not fun! Especially with Erik in the back seat chiming in regularly with that age old refrain, "Are we there yet?"

Basically that's what the disciples were asking Jesus, as he prepared to ascend to the Father. They had been traveling with Jesus for three years. Through good times and bad, over hill and dale. They'd heard much talk about the kingdom and its nearness. They were eager for it--longing for it. So they ask, "Are we there yet?"

Jesus reply is somewhat equal to "yes--and no." The kingdom has been restored to Israel because Jesus is here, and no, not yet because he's at the Father's right hand and hasn't yet returned. The kingdom is ours now, because Jesus' promise of it in the future is so sure and certain.

For us, this means several things. First and foremost--we are people of the kingdom--now and always. But there's always an element of being not quite there before the second coming--of falling short of the wonders of God's peaceable kingdom. There's always work to do to continue to reflect the glory of that promise and commission Jesus made at his ascension.

Are we there yet? Yes--Christ died for us. But is a way "the journey is our home." We are a peripatetic people, wandering Arimeans who seek understanding and speak gospel. We're not there yet-but we are.

It's Getting Hot in Here... (sermon draft 4/27/08)

2008-04-28T11:08:00.002-04:00

Earth Day 2008

First of all, relax. There will be no slide show, nor will there be any invocation of name of Al Gore.

Because I’m going to make a major assumption here. I’m going to assume that we’re all on near about the same page on global climate change. I think we can all agree that it’s real and that it’s a problem. And I’m going to assume that we all feel that we have an individual responsibility to alter our CO₂ producing lifestyle, and also an obligation as communities—residential communities, as well as financial, industrial, religious, governmental, and scientific communities—an obligation to halt the damage already done to our planet, and to reverse the downward spiral before it’s too late. It’s our duty—our Christian duty.

How do I mean that? Well, you may have noticed that the Pope was in America recently. Hard to miss him. He had a lot to say about American secularism, materialism, and morality. And one of the things the Catholic Church under Pope Benedict has done is to declare seven “new” deadly sins. Harming the environment is one of them. Now, we as Lutherans don’t distinguish levels of sins, but it says something that the Mother Church takes pollution so seriously that wantonly causing it is a danger to the mortal soul!

For, speaking theologically, from both Lutheran and Catholic viewpoints, global climate change is essentially altering God’s vision of creation. God created things and saw they were good. So, think about the ramifications of what we’re doing to the earth. Bird and fish migration patterns are changing, permafrost is melting, a huge piece of the polar ice cap is poised to drop off into the sea, and coastal wetlands are disappearing due to sea levels rising. Twenty to thirty percent of plant and animal species are at risk of extinction. And global climate change is predicted to bring along with it increases in flooding, severe storms, and drought. That’s not good! In fact, it is indeed, sinful. Deadly perhaps in ways far more literal.

And we need to confess and repent of our sin. Repent both individually and corporately. Repent in the classic sense of the word, which is to turn around 180 degrees from our present behavior. In his explanation of the seventh commandment (which is confirmands…?), “You shall not steal,” Luther writes, “We are to fear and love God so that we neither take our neighbors’ money or property nor use shoddy merchandise or crooked deals to obtain it for ourselves, BUT INSTEAD—help them to improve and protect their property and income.” The actions resulting in global climate change are tantamount to stealing from God. Stealing the creation. We need to repent of that sin and instead help God protect and improve creation.

But before we talk about how we can do that, I’d like to address a neglected effect of global climate change. Poverty.

The National Council of Churches writes that,

“Although global climate change affects all human populations across the globe, it hits those living in poverty the hardest because they depend on the surrounding physical environment to supply their needs and have limited ability to cope [with] climate variability and extremes.

As temperature changes increase the frequency and intensity of severe-weather events around the world, impoverished communities, which often lack necessary infrastructure like storm walls and water storage facilities, will struggle to respond to increased disasters. Warmer climates will also increase the spread of diseases like malaria and impact the ability of impoverished communities to respond adequately to outbreaks when they can’t afford the medication for those infected. Perhaps the harshest consequence will come from changed rain patterns. This will increase the prevalence of drought in places like Africa, where only 4 percent of crop land is irrigated. The resulting decrease in food production will leave populations without food and limit their ability to trade internationally to generate income.

Global climate change reduces access to drinking water, limits access to food, and negatively impacts human health particularly in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. According to the Fourth Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, developing countries are expected to suffer the most from the negative impacts of climate change.

For instance, Lake Chad, a water source for five countries and 20 million

people in Africa, is drying up because of droughts. In 1960, Lake Chad covered more than 26,000 km2. By 2000, it was down to 1,500 km2.2 When weather patterns change in Africa, crops fail and people go hungry. [In biblical proportions, one might say.]

The challenges of global climate change won’t just be in developing countries. In the United States, for example, the town of Shismaref, Alaska, with a per capita income around $10,500, will need to be relocated because of shoreline erosion, which is caused by the melting of protective sea ice.3

Global climate change poses one of the greatest threats to the most vulnerable among us, especially people in poverty. The impoverished and vulnerable do not have the economic and technological resources to adapt to the expected impacts of climate change. Addressing climate change must involve addressing the plight of those in poverty to be successful, while addressing poverty must involve environmental sustainability to be a long-term solution.”

Our call as people of faith—to protect the vulnerable and to be stewards of God’s Earth—means we must act to stop global climate change. Because the effects of global climate change are already impacting those who can least afford to deal with it, addressing global climate change is also a justice issue.”

Well, that’s what the National Council of Churches says. But what does scripture say about helping the poor, and what does it say about global climate change? The former I think we have a firm grip of—scripture over and over and over again cries out for justice for the poor and the marginalized and commands the sharing of resources with them from a standpoint of God’s abundance. But global climate change wasn’t even thought of in bible times, much less addressed. However, even in seemingly unrelated passages such as those assigned for today’s readings, we can find hints and glimmers of a theology of ecological accountability. Specifically, they remind us of God’s role in Creation, and our responsibility for it.

For instance, the passage from Acts tells us that God doesn’t live in a shrine or man-made object, but rather throughout all creation, for God made all things. The verses from St. Peter remind us that repentance and creation saving action will require sacrifice. But we should not fear this, for with God pleasing action comes God’s blessing. And God has blessed us with the presence of the Holy Spirit within us, so that we might discern the righteous pathway to follow in earthkeeping. Today’s gospel says that!

So, with the guidance and strength of the Spirit within us-how can we repent of the sin of global climate change and the resultant cycle of extreme poverty that it entails? Sins of commission as well as sins of omission?

No doubt you’ve heard plenty of ways already, but aren’t doing them. No doubt corporately we know what’s needed but aren’t willing to alter the bottom line in return for such an elusive and future-bound objective. Shame on us. Shame on our families. Shame on our businesses and industries. Shame on our governments. Shame on us. We need to act, individually, as a faith community, as a community of fellow beings on this planet. We need to act.

If ever there was a need for someone on every street corner wearing the sandwich board sign “REPENT! THE END IS COMING!” it is now. I ask that you turn to your insert and join me in the prayer of repentance…