Meditation on Seven Last Words of Christ.
I Thirst
Found:
http://www.christchurchnewbrunswick.org/04.2.10.graham.Good%20Friday%20Reflection.pdf
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Monday, October 20, 2008
19 October 2008
19 October 2008
Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost
Year A
“My presence will go with you.”
In nomine...
To see God's face. Moses asks some pretty lofty things in today's reading from Exodus. He asks to know God's ways and to see God's face. To see God's face? Instead, God's declares that the people Moses is responsible for, the chosen people of Israel will be in God's presence. God said that his presence would be with them. Moses was thought this was so important that he asked “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here.” The children of Israel were God's chosen, and they knew this because they were in his presence.
Like the children of Israel, Moses was also chosen. Moses was God's prophet who led Israel out of Egypt. The verses from the narrative, just before those read from Exodus today, talk about a tent that was pitched in the desert where God and Moses would chat. Moses had the opportunity to be alone with God and to be in God's holy presence. They were so close that Moses thought it appropriate to ask God if he could see God face. And while this request was denied, God let his goodness pass over Moses. Moses, like many who went before him, had an intimate relationship with God, in a way that few of us could really expect.
But what of the church? The church is also chosen. In this salutation and introduction to Paul's letter to the Thessalonians Paul writes that we, as the church are God's chosen people too. “For we know, brothers and sisters beloved by God” he writes “that he has chosen you.” Paul writes of the communities in Macedonia and Achaia that seem to be thriving. But clearly by then Christ has died and risen, and the relationships like that between Moses and God don't seem to happen much anymore.
Now, when writing a sermon, I believe that sermons should fit in with the rest of any service. That the music, the time of year, parish happenings, et cetera are all important things to consider. When I started to write this sermon I was bit unsure how to begin. Karin, being organized and responsible as she is, emailed me copies of today's bulletins on Wednesday. When I looked at the service music I had an audible groan. There is one hymn that we are singing today that I really really wish we weren't. Its one of those old favorites, but theologically, it just drives me batty. And that is “I come to the garden alone.” [LEVAS 69, read v 1, chorus 3 at 8am and 11:15am].
I come to the garden alone. I don't believe you are ever alone. To say that you are going to the garden alone says that God is hanging out there waiting for you, and I always thought God's presence is always with us – that God is bit like Santa – he knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake, and so on.
And then there is the last line of the chorus “And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.” “Like none other has known?” Like you're so special. If this was sung as the Easter hymn that C. Austin Miles wrote it as – about Mary Magdalene seeing the stone rolled away and confusing Jesus as a gardener, I might deal with it better, but most people don't know that context.
I also feel that this hymn makes God a solitary activity. When Paul writes of Christians in his day, he almost always writes of them and to them in communities. Like this letter: From Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, to The Church of the Thessalonians. Doing church and doing God's work is a community activity. While in many of his letters he does refer to personal beliefs and behaviors, there is also a degree of holding each other accountable. Indeed, in our society in which many people say they are “spiritual but not religious” and that their “spirituality is private,” we have to remember that Moses' personal relationship with God was for a purpose. It was to bring the Hebrews out of Egypt.
I sometimes fear that this idea of coming to the garden alone where God walks and talks with me makes us forget that God in Jesus said that “when two or three are gathered in my name I am in the midst of them.” And that we can also work in a soup kitchen with others or take part in the CROP walk this afternoon, living out our relationship with God in or out of the garden. And really, why the garden anyway? Why, if God is everywhere, with all of us together, bringing all of us, like the Hebrew people to a new life. Working together to restore God's created world. Who needs to go to a garden?
While Moses' call was to lead the Hebrews out of Egypt, clearly he didn't nor could he have done this on his own. This could not have been imagined if he and the Hebrew people were not in God's presence. But knowing that he was in God's presence wasn't enough, he needed that personal relationship he had with God – he needed that time with God not only to know what to do and what to tell the Hebrew people, but also for his own strength – so he could feel God's goodness pass over him. If he hadn't had that he wouldn't have been able to serve God in the community.
Its a balancing act of sorts and reminds us that we can all fall victim to focusing too much on our personal relationship with God or focusing too much on our communal relationship with God. At such a bright and vibrant church as St. David's, as with many other parishes, including my own, I can imagine it can be easy to get very involved with the communal activities of the parish but to lack the personal time with God. I recall hearing a Sr. Warden of a parish who was also a youth group leader and chorister say that she wished that she had a relationship with God or that she wished she had time for that.
Perhaps that's the wrong way to look at it. Perhaps that's backwards. Perhaps taking that time with God can help strengthen our ministry. In stewardship sermons we are always asked to give - the three T's usually.. time, talent, and treasures. I know I sometimes feel like I need to give so much and have the opportunity so much to so many places – work, school, church, committees, and other groups, that I don't feel like I can have time for myself, that putting aside personal time for me, or for me and God is somehow selfish.
Every Sunday we are asked to “lift up our hearts” and we “lift them up to the Lord.” But are we? Are we taking time to be stewards to ourselves? Are we lifting up our spiritual hearts to God? Are we lifting our physical hearts to God? Keeping our bodies, made in God's image, in the best shape we can? Or do we just not have time?
I agree. I don't really have time for much of anything. But a few months ago I decided to try to make time. I was stressed, didn't have time to get done what I needed to get done, didn't know how I could make everything fit, so I started going to the gym. Just an hour, two or three times a week. I also started put aside time to talk to God. Just ten minutes. And always alone. And somehow, everything fell into place.
Mind you, I'm still drowning in schoolwork, work work, and committees and such, but by being a steward to myself, I have been able to better be a steward to the world – and better take part in a communal relationship with God.
The last time I was here I was about to leave for England to staff Lambeth – the decennial conference of Anglican Bishops. If any one wants to hear about my experience I will be more than happy to chat about it after the service, but I will tell you though, wonderful, it was near, if not the most stressful and trying experience of my life. And truly, it was only when I could get away from the conference – when I would leave campus for a ten minute walk and sit behind a stone garden wall, and just sit with God that I could pull myself back to a useful place.
As many parishes do, a parish I used to attend keeps a prayer vigil between Maundy Thursday and Good Friday morning every year. They move some of the pews and set up a garden in the back of the church. And I will admit that it is the time each year that I felt closest to God. At 2:30 in the morning, with the warmth from the many candles on my skin and the smell of the flowers around me, alone in the garden, with God and God's presence.
So I suppose maybe there is something to be said for that hymn. Something to be said for going out of your way to go somewhere to intentionally be alone with God. To be rejuvenated and healed. To see the dew on the roses, and listen to birds hush their singing, to listen to the sweet, low, voice of God, until he bids us go, knowing that we are chosen to serve God in the world and are always in his presence.
Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost
Year A
“My presence will go with you.”
In nomine...
To see God's face. Moses asks some pretty lofty things in today's reading from Exodus. He asks to know God's ways and to see God's face. To see God's face? Instead, God's declares that the people Moses is responsible for, the chosen people of Israel will be in God's presence. God said that his presence would be with them. Moses was thought this was so important that he asked “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here.” The children of Israel were God's chosen, and they knew this because they were in his presence.
Like the children of Israel, Moses was also chosen. Moses was God's prophet who led Israel out of Egypt. The verses from the narrative, just before those read from Exodus today, talk about a tent that was pitched in the desert where God and Moses would chat. Moses had the opportunity to be alone with God and to be in God's holy presence. They were so close that Moses thought it appropriate to ask God if he could see God face. And while this request was denied, God let his goodness pass over Moses. Moses, like many who went before him, had an intimate relationship with God, in a way that few of us could really expect.
But what of the church? The church is also chosen. In this salutation and introduction to Paul's letter to the Thessalonians Paul writes that we, as the church are God's chosen people too. “For we know, brothers and sisters beloved by God” he writes “that he has chosen you.” Paul writes of the communities in Macedonia and Achaia that seem to be thriving. But clearly by then Christ has died and risen, and the relationships like that between Moses and God don't seem to happen much anymore.
Now, when writing a sermon, I believe that sermons should fit in with the rest of any service. That the music, the time of year, parish happenings, et cetera are all important things to consider. When I started to write this sermon I was bit unsure how to begin. Karin, being organized and responsible as she is, emailed me copies of today's bulletins on Wednesday. When I looked at the service music I had an audible groan. There is one hymn that we are singing today that I really really wish we weren't. Its one of those old favorites, but theologically, it just drives me batty. And that is “I come to the garden alone.” [LEVAS 69, read v 1, chorus 3 at 8am and 11:15am].
I come to the garden alone. I don't believe you are ever alone. To say that you are going to the garden alone says that God is hanging out there waiting for you, and I always thought God's presence is always with us – that God is bit like Santa – he knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake, and so on.
And then there is the last line of the chorus “And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.” “Like none other has known?” Like you're so special. If this was sung as the Easter hymn that C. Austin Miles wrote it as – about Mary Magdalene seeing the stone rolled away and confusing Jesus as a gardener, I might deal with it better, but most people don't know that context.
I also feel that this hymn makes God a solitary activity. When Paul writes of Christians in his day, he almost always writes of them and to them in communities. Like this letter: From Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, to The Church of the Thessalonians. Doing church and doing God's work is a community activity. While in many of his letters he does refer to personal beliefs and behaviors, there is also a degree of holding each other accountable. Indeed, in our society in which many people say they are “spiritual but not religious” and that their “spirituality is private,” we have to remember that Moses' personal relationship with God was for a purpose. It was to bring the Hebrews out of Egypt.
I sometimes fear that this idea of coming to the garden alone where God walks and talks with me makes us forget that God in Jesus said that “when two or three are gathered in my name I am in the midst of them.” And that we can also work in a soup kitchen with others or take part in the CROP walk this afternoon, living out our relationship with God in or out of the garden. And really, why the garden anyway? Why, if God is everywhere, with all of us together, bringing all of us, like the Hebrew people to a new life. Working together to restore God's created world. Who needs to go to a garden?
While Moses' call was to lead the Hebrews out of Egypt, clearly he didn't nor could he have done this on his own. This could not have been imagined if he and the Hebrew people were not in God's presence. But knowing that he was in God's presence wasn't enough, he needed that personal relationship he had with God – he needed that time with God not only to know what to do and what to tell the Hebrew people, but also for his own strength – so he could feel God's goodness pass over him. If he hadn't had that he wouldn't have been able to serve God in the community.
Its a balancing act of sorts and reminds us that we can all fall victim to focusing too much on our personal relationship with God or focusing too much on our communal relationship with God. At such a bright and vibrant church as St. David's, as with many other parishes, including my own, I can imagine it can be easy to get very involved with the communal activities of the parish but to lack the personal time with God. I recall hearing a Sr. Warden of a parish who was also a youth group leader and chorister say that she wished that she had a relationship with God or that she wished she had time for that.
Perhaps that's the wrong way to look at it. Perhaps that's backwards. Perhaps taking that time with God can help strengthen our ministry. In stewardship sermons we are always asked to give - the three T's usually.. time, talent, and treasures. I know I sometimes feel like I need to give so much and have the opportunity so much to so many places – work, school, church, committees, and other groups, that I don't feel like I can have time for myself, that putting aside personal time for me, or for me and God is somehow selfish.
Every Sunday we are asked to “lift up our hearts” and we “lift them up to the Lord.” But are we? Are we taking time to be stewards to ourselves? Are we lifting up our spiritual hearts to God? Are we lifting our physical hearts to God? Keeping our bodies, made in God's image, in the best shape we can? Or do we just not have time?
I agree. I don't really have time for much of anything. But a few months ago I decided to try to make time. I was stressed, didn't have time to get done what I needed to get done, didn't know how I could make everything fit, so I started going to the gym. Just an hour, two or three times a week. I also started put aside time to talk to God. Just ten minutes. And always alone. And somehow, everything fell into place.
Mind you, I'm still drowning in schoolwork, work work, and committees and such, but by being a steward to myself, I have been able to better be a steward to the world – and better take part in a communal relationship with God.
The last time I was here I was about to leave for England to staff Lambeth – the decennial conference of Anglican Bishops. If any one wants to hear about my experience I will be more than happy to chat about it after the service, but I will tell you though, wonderful, it was near, if not the most stressful and trying experience of my life. And truly, it was only when I could get away from the conference – when I would leave campus for a ten minute walk and sit behind a stone garden wall, and just sit with God that I could pull myself back to a useful place.
As many parishes do, a parish I used to attend keeps a prayer vigil between Maundy Thursday and Good Friday morning every year. They move some of the pews and set up a garden in the back of the church. And I will admit that it is the time each year that I felt closest to God. At 2:30 in the morning, with the warmth from the many candles on my skin and the smell of the flowers around me, alone in the garden, with God and God's presence.
So I suppose maybe there is something to be said for that hymn. Something to be said for going out of your way to go somewhere to intentionally be alone with God. To be rejuvenated and healed. To see the dew on the roses, and listen to birds hush their singing, to listen to the sweet, low, voice of God, until he bids us go, knowing that we are chosen to serve God in the world and are always in his presence.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
29 July 2008
A Sermon for St. David's, Cranbury
29 June 2008
Proper 8, Year A
Hi. I'm Allie. And I'm a Christian. Doesn't that sound a bit like the beginning of a 12-step meeting? I'm Allie, and I'm a Christian. I don't know about you, but as an Episcopalian, sometimes it can seem like that hard a thing to admit.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I tend to live in a secular world. A few of my friends are religious – most aren't. Of those, some are Christians – some aren't. And those “aren'ts” in both categories seem to have bad associations with those who consider themselves Christians. I actually have some friends who call themselves “Christ Followers” because they don't want the normally inaccurate associations that go along with calling oneself a Christian.
But I'm proud to be a Christian... quietly.
But what does that mean – to be a Christian quietly? How does that work? How can we, as Paul wrote “be slaves to righteousness” while being effective – and not completely obnoxious? I'm sure everyone here has experienced the... embarrassment... of being around one of those stereotypes? The “Christians” who are completely self-righteous and convinced of their own salvation (and everyone elses damnation) while being generally mean, rude, or otherwise annoying people. Like those who drive their hummers while sipping a latte, talking on their cell phones, with no regard for your or my life... with a Jesus fish on the back of their car? Yeah.
In his letter to the Romans, Paul wrote “Do you not know that if you PRESENT yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves to the one whom you obey?”
“If you PRESENT yourself to ANYONE as obedient slaves... you are SLAVES to the one whom you obey.”
But does to whom we present ourselves equal to whom we are obedient? I'm not so sure.
Can we present ourselves as slaves – giving our whole heart, mind, soul, and strength to God, but actually be slaves to, what Paul calls wickedness?
Now, we normally hear that we are servants of God. But Paul writes that we are slaves. Once you’re a slave to a master, you ARE a slave to that master. So once we are slaves to God, to righteousness, even though we may fall, we are still slaves to God. If we find ourselves as slaves to sin, we risk falling deep into temptations and lusts that leads us away from God – it can lead us to “wickedness.” And when we fall into wickedness, and when we act as, what Paul calls “instruments of wickedness” rather than “instruments of righteousness,” people suffer. We suffer, our relationships suffer, and people around the world, all of our brothers and sisters in all socio-political situations suffer.
But what does it mean to be “an instrument of righteousness” or to be “obedient to righteousness”? I'm not about to tell you that it has to mean giving up all the things you want - that that the driver I mentioned earlier doesn't have to give up the hummer, the latte, the cell phone AND the Jesus fish decal- but it does have to mean respecting God and respecting God's creation – which does sometimes mean giving up what we want.
But we are giving up what we want in exchange for what God wants for us – and what we are told results in righteousness, in sanctification or cleanliness, and results in life.
In the reading from Genesis, God asked Abraham to sacrifice his “only” son. To give him up to God. As the story was written, Abraham didn't think to say “no.” He didn't question, he just went ahead, after he had just banished his only other son, Ishmael, – he was ready to sacrifice this one with no question or thought of saying no.
Um.
I don't think this ever happened in the bible after that. Any reading about Moses or any of the prophets in the Hebrew Scriptures or even Jesus involves a lot questioning... and whining.
God knows we aren't always happy with choices we have to make in his service. He, like any parent, knows that we often don't like what we feel we have to do. And like the driver of that car, its often painfully clear how simple it would be to take the easy way out – the “I take Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior” okay now I'm done method. But as we know, the entire gospels of Matthew and Luke (beatitudes) tell us there's more.
But what is that more? Because there is so much that “more” can be – in word as well as in action.
A few weeks ago I attended a conference at Princeton University called Envision: Scripture, Politics, and the Future. It was aimed at Christians who want to make a positive difference in the world. There were multiple workshop tracks, and I attended the one on International Human Rights. This is a broad topic, so none of us knew what to expect.
It covered a variety of issues, but at one point the woman leading the workshop – an evangelical from Texas, was talking about some of her organization's work in a region of the Sudan (not Darfur).
As she was talking she spoke of how many bibles they had managed to get into the region. How they had gotten a copy of the film “The Jesus Story” in the regional language to a local pastor, as well as a computer on which to play it into the area, and how many new people had made professions of faith.
As we left the session, a Mennonite boy started ranting to me. He couldn't understand how this was so important. Why aren't we talking about how to stop organized rape, or how we can get food to people in North Korea? Why not about ending sex trafficking?” he said. I have to admit that I had many of these thoughts as well.
But as we talked, I had to wonder. Consider two missionaries: one is bringing the bible to people and bringing them to Christianity. Another missionary, also from a church group, is bringing food and teaching skills in an underdeveloped nation. This one, however, decided not to discuss the religion that was his impetus for the trip as to not offend or for fear of appearing to force it on those he was helping?
Who's the better Christian? The one bringing food and skills, or the one sharing a religion of hope?
I honestly don't have an answer. I leave that to you.
But I can tell you the second – the food and skills – would be a lot easier for me. I find talking about my faith to people I don't know absolutely terrifying. I would rather volunteer in a dangerous inner city or work on building projects. In speaking about Christ, there is a vulnerability – an opening for judgment. It’s so much easier to say “my faith is private.” That's so much safer. Speaking makes me so uncomfortable. But that's the point, isn't it?
Our faith isn't supposed to be comfortable. Our faith isn't supposed to be safe. It isn't supposed to be stagnant, static. It isn't always supposed to give us warm fuzzies. This is not to say that the warm fuzzies we will hopefully get in a few minutes when Geneva and Corbin are baptized aren't from God, but Christ didn't die in a painful, gruesome manner for warm fuzzies. In today's gospel Christ spoke of prophets, righteous men, and unvalued. These groups of people weren't “comfortable” they didn't have comfortable situations and yet the gospel spoke of the rewards that we receive from receiving them, and the rewards we receive when we receiving Christ.
Our faith can't be what we want – sitting around doing our thing.
Have could you better serve God? Have you ever spoken with a close friend about your faith? Have you ever tried to figure out what YOU actually believe? For most of us, it isn't EXACTLY what's in the back of the prayer book or in the creeds. Have you tried writing your worldview or your own theology or idea of what God IS down on paper. Really, set aside some time and actually write it down. It may be surprisingly different from that which you think. And may lead you places that you didn't think it would take you. Even beginning to write it down can be a very uncomfortable thing to do... but our faith isn't supposed to be comfortable.
Have you done mission work? Built anything, far or locally? OR do you really hate being hot and sweaty. Do you think you might be called to volunteer for that sort of thing anyway? There are a wide variety of opportunities for all different skill sets and skill levels.
A comfortable faith leads to stagnation and temptation, and away from Christ. But we are called to be Christians, to be slaves to Christ... even if its, hard, uncomfortable, or we're occasionally hypocritical, and at times, like the prophets - whiny. But unlike most forms of slavery, through the grace, mercy and never failing love of God, we will be given sanctification and eternal life. And I can't think of a more comforting thought or reality, than that.
29 June 2008
Proper 8, Year A
Hi. I'm Allie. And I'm a Christian. Doesn't that sound a bit like the beginning of a 12-step meeting? I'm Allie, and I'm a Christian. I don't know about you, but as an Episcopalian, sometimes it can seem like that hard a thing to admit.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I tend to live in a secular world. A few of my friends are religious – most aren't. Of those, some are Christians – some aren't. And those “aren'ts” in both categories seem to have bad associations with those who consider themselves Christians. I actually have some friends who call themselves “Christ Followers” because they don't want the normally inaccurate associations that go along with calling oneself a Christian.
But I'm proud to be a Christian... quietly.
But what does that mean – to be a Christian quietly? How does that work? How can we, as Paul wrote “be slaves to righteousness” while being effective – and not completely obnoxious? I'm sure everyone here has experienced the... embarrassment... of being around one of those stereotypes? The “Christians” who are completely self-righteous and convinced of their own salvation (and everyone elses damnation) while being generally mean, rude, or otherwise annoying people. Like those who drive their hummers while sipping a latte, talking on their cell phones, with no regard for your or my life... with a Jesus fish on the back of their car? Yeah.
In his letter to the Romans, Paul wrote “Do you not know that if you PRESENT yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves to the one whom you obey?”
“If you PRESENT yourself to ANYONE as obedient slaves... you are SLAVES to the one whom you obey.”
But does to whom we present ourselves equal to whom we are obedient? I'm not so sure.
Can we present ourselves as slaves – giving our whole heart, mind, soul, and strength to God, but actually be slaves to, what Paul calls wickedness?
Now, we normally hear that we are servants of God. But Paul writes that we are slaves. Once you’re a slave to a master, you ARE a slave to that master. So once we are slaves to God, to righteousness, even though we may fall, we are still slaves to God. If we find ourselves as slaves to sin, we risk falling deep into temptations and lusts that leads us away from God – it can lead us to “wickedness.” And when we fall into wickedness, and when we act as, what Paul calls “instruments of wickedness” rather than “instruments of righteousness,” people suffer. We suffer, our relationships suffer, and people around the world, all of our brothers and sisters in all socio-political situations suffer.
But what does it mean to be “an instrument of righteousness” or to be “obedient to righteousness”? I'm not about to tell you that it has to mean giving up all the things you want - that that the driver I mentioned earlier doesn't have to give up the hummer, the latte, the cell phone AND the Jesus fish decal- but it does have to mean respecting God and respecting God's creation – which does sometimes mean giving up what we want.
But we are giving up what we want in exchange for what God wants for us – and what we are told results in righteousness, in sanctification or cleanliness, and results in life.
In the reading from Genesis, God asked Abraham to sacrifice his “only” son. To give him up to God. As the story was written, Abraham didn't think to say “no.” He didn't question, he just went ahead, after he had just banished his only other son, Ishmael, – he was ready to sacrifice this one with no question or thought of saying no.
Um.
I don't think this ever happened in the bible after that. Any reading about Moses or any of the prophets in the Hebrew Scriptures or even Jesus involves a lot questioning... and whining.
God knows we aren't always happy with choices we have to make in his service. He, like any parent, knows that we often don't like what we feel we have to do. And like the driver of that car, its often painfully clear how simple it would be to take the easy way out – the “I take Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior” okay now I'm done method. But as we know, the entire gospels of Matthew and Luke (beatitudes) tell us there's more.
But what is that more? Because there is so much that “more” can be – in word as well as in action.
A few weeks ago I attended a conference at Princeton University called Envision: Scripture, Politics, and the Future. It was aimed at Christians who want to make a positive difference in the world. There were multiple workshop tracks, and I attended the one on International Human Rights. This is a broad topic, so none of us knew what to expect.
It covered a variety of issues, but at one point the woman leading the workshop – an evangelical from Texas, was talking about some of her organization's work in a region of the Sudan (not Darfur).
As she was talking she spoke of how many bibles they had managed to get into the region. How they had gotten a copy of the film “The Jesus Story” in the regional language to a local pastor, as well as a computer on which to play it into the area, and how many new people had made professions of faith.
As we left the session, a Mennonite boy started ranting to me. He couldn't understand how this was so important. Why aren't we talking about how to stop organized rape, or how we can get food to people in North Korea? Why not about ending sex trafficking?” he said. I have to admit that I had many of these thoughts as well.
But as we talked, I had to wonder. Consider two missionaries: one is bringing the bible to people and bringing them to Christianity. Another missionary, also from a church group, is bringing food and teaching skills in an underdeveloped nation. This one, however, decided not to discuss the religion that was his impetus for the trip as to not offend or for fear of appearing to force it on those he was helping?
Who's the better Christian? The one bringing food and skills, or the one sharing a religion of hope?
I honestly don't have an answer. I leave that to you.
But I can tell you the second – the food and skills – would be a lot easier for me. I find talking about my faith to people I don't know absolutely terrifying. I would rather volunteer in a dangerous inner city or work on building projects. In speaking about Christ, there is a vulnerability – an opening for judgment. It’s so much easier to say “my faith is private.” That's so much safer. Speaking makes me so uncomfortable. But that's the point, isn't it?
Our faith isn't supposed to be comfortable. Our faith isn't supposed to be safe. It isn't supposed to be stagnant, static. It isn't always supposed to give us warm fuzzies. This is not to say that the warm fuzzies we will hopefully get in a few minutes when Geneva and Corbin are baptized aren't from God, but Christ didn't die in a painful, gruesome manner for warm fuzzies. In today's gospel Christ spoke of prophets, righteous men, and unvalued. These groups of people weren't “comfortable” they didn't have comfortable situations and yet the gospel spoke of the rewards that we receive from receiving them, and the rewards we receive when we receiving Christ.
Our faith can't be what we want – sitting around doing our thing.
Have could you better serve God? Have you ever spoken with a close friend about your faith? Have you ever tried to figure out what YOU actually believe? For most of us, it isn't EXACTLY what's in the back of the prayer book or in the creeds. Have you tried writing your worldview or your own theology or idea of what God IS down on paper. Really, set aside some time and actually write it down. It may be surprisingly different from that which you think. And may lead you places that you didn't think it would take you. Even beginning to write it down can be a very uncomfortable thing to do... but our faith isn't supposed to be comfortable.
Have you done mission work? Built anything, far or locally? OR do you really hate being hot and sweaty. Do you think you might be called to volunteer for that sort of thing anyway? There are a wide variety of opportunities for all different skill sets and skill levels.
A comfortable faith leads to stagnation and temptation, and away from Christ. But we are called to be Christians, to be slaves to Christ... even if its, hard, uncomfortable, or we're occasionally hypocritical, and at times, like the prophets - whiny. But unlike most forms of slavery, through the grace, mercy and never failing love of God, we will be given sanctification and eternal life. And I can't think of a more comforting thought or reality, than that.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
18 March 2008
Wisdom. Wisdom. Who doesn’t search for wisdom?
For knowledge, for understanding.
Who doesn’t desire to be wise, to be knowing to be
the person others seek for advise, to understand?
And as many seek to understand God, to understand the world
and analyze it, and make sense of it,
it all simply doesn’t seem to – work.
We see suffering and pain
and can feel an inability to do anything about it.
World Religions 101 and Sunday school teach us that
the God is omniscient, and loving, and benevolent,
yet, so much pain and horror are done in the name of God.
And we go through life, and when we sometimes see something good
we jump up and praise God.
It can make it hard to like him.
In tonight’s reading from the Gospel of Mark
God, in the form of Jesus proclaims that
[his] house shall be a house of prayer for all the nations.”
Doesn’t that sound so foolish –
that any house could be a house of prayer for all people-
that god, knowing how differently all the groups
would interpret his messengers,
knowing how much pain trying to serve him would cause
that all the nations will pray in one house –
doesn’t that seem foolish?
foolish…
Doesn’t it seem foolish
that a man would be willing to die in pain and shame
without immediate results
for an eternity of people he didn’t know.
Doesn’t it seem foolish…
God in the form of a man, Jesus,
died on a cross for our eternal life.
Take a moment to think about that.
PPPAAAUUUSSSEEEE (30+ seconds)
Last night Amy spoke about the woman
Who anointed Christ’s feet with expensive ointment
how she gave all she had
That woman was accused of being foolish –
but not by God.
But what of Christ, who was fully God
and fully human.
Who gave up his life
Truly everything he had
For an uncertain future.
Doesn’t that seem foolish… foolish.
Paul writes: For God’s foolishness is wiser than
human wisdom
that, on a bad day, God is wiser than we could
hope to be on the best day –
that we could hope to be ever.
We don’t have to “get it” or understand it,
or even like it,
and that’s okay.
And Thanks be to God
For because of God’s wisdom
in the face of our attempts towards wisdom
because of God’s wisdom and foolishness
we have eternal life.
For knowledge, for understanding.
Who doesn’t desire to be wise, to be knowing to be
the person others seek for advise, to understand?
And as many seek to understand God, to understand the world
and analyze it, and make sense of it,
it all simply doesn’t seem to – work.
We see suffering and pain
and can feel an inability to do anything about it.
World Religions 101 and Sunday school teach us that
the God is omniscient, and loving, and benevolent,
yet, so much pain and horror are done in the name of God.
And we go through life, and when we sometimes see something good
we jump up and praise God.
It can make it hard to like him.
In tonight’s reading from the Gospel of Mark
God, in the form of Jesus proclaims that
[his] house shall be a house of prayer for all the nations.”
Doesn’t that sound so foolish –
that any house could be a house of prayer for all people-
that god, knowing how differently all the groups
would interpret his messengers,
knowing how much pain trying to serve him would cause
that all the nations will pray in one house –
doesn’t that seem foolish?
foolish…
Doesn’t it seem foolish
that a man would be willing to die in pain and shame
without immediate results
for an eternity of people he didn’t know.
Doesn’t it seem foolish…
God in the form of a man, Jesus,
died on a cross for our eternal life.
Take a moment to think about that.
PPPAAAUUUSSSEEEE (30+ seconds)
Last night Amy spoke about the woman
Who anointed Christ’s feet with expensive ointment
how she gave all she had
That woman was accused of being foolish –
but not by God.
But what of Christ, who was fully God
and fully human.
Who gave up his life
Truly everything he had
For an uncertain future.
Doesn’t that seem foolish… foolish.
Paul writes: For God’s foolishness is wiser than
human wisdom
that, on a bad day, God is wiser than we could
hope to be on the best day –
that we could hope to be ever.
We don’t have to “get it” or understand it,
or even like it,
and that’s okay.
And Thanks be to God
For because of God’s wisdom
in the face of our attempts towards wisdom
because of God’s wisdom and foolishness
we have eternal life.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
15 July 07
15 July 07
Proper 10C
O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them.
In nominee…
Success. We all want to be successful. I mean, success can come in a lot of forms, but, in general, we tend to want to do well. Today’s first two lessons speak of the word as providing means to success.
In today’s lessons Moses reminded the Jews that the Lord “would make them abundantly prosperous in all their undertakings – in their bodies, and families, and land - as he did to their ancestors – he would make them SUCCSSFUL when they followed the law and turned their hearts and soul over to the Lord.
And Moses reminded them, they knew the word of the Lord,
That it was in their hearts and in their minds already. And that as hard or annoying as following that law may seem, turning our heart and soul to God is dealwithable,
its not too hard, not in heaven, not “over there”, here, we can do it, here, and now.
The second lesson presents the beginning of Paul’s letter to the Colossians.
Paul writes that hope and prosperity are in the gospel -- that the gospel is bearing fruit for the whole world. As in Deuteronomy this lesson says that following and turning to God leads to success. In Deuteronomy Moses directs the Jews to turn to the law, their covenant with God, Paul reminds us to look towards the gospel in Christ – our new Covenant.
Today’s readings not only serve to remind us to turn fully turn our hearts and souls to the Lord, but also reassure us that although it may not seem easy, It is not too hard. That we are capable. Paul specifically reminds us that we must be patient. We must be open, that we must be filled with God’s will and spiritual understand, strong with his strength and patience.
Lofty thoughts. Sounds hard, I mean, why bother? Filled with God’s will? Strong with God’s strength, and patience, and God’s spiritual understanding? But, God’s God. Man, that sounds hard, and, and annoying.
But taking a look at today’s Gospel, Paul makes a good point. I mean, God really raised the stakes, and his expectations.
In today’s gospel a lawyer asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Just as Moses reminded the Jews that they knew the law in their hearts, Jesus confirms that the lawyer knew the “correct” answer, and the lawyer responds that you must love the Lord your God and love your neighbor as yourself.
At this point I’m sure most of us here know the story by heart – the lawyer asks “who is my neighbor” and Jesus responds with the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Good Samaritan - its one of those stories that tends to pop-up. Like the Prodigal Son and the Lost Sheep, this story seems to turn up in every Vacation Bible School curriculum and illustrated children’s bible. We learned it as children and though it gives us that warm comfy feeling inside, we can kinda of, click off, when we hear it.
A Jew is hit up by robbers. He’s left for dead. A priest passes by, but doesn’t stop so as to retain ritual purity. A Levite passes by but doesn’t stop either. Then a Samaritan passes the injured Jew - a person with a reason not to stop by – and he stops. He puts the man on his own animal, gets him to an inn, and leaves him with money.
Given the time, it would have made more sense for the Samaritan to pass by. Actually it would have made more sense for him to kick the guy while he was down. Samaritans and Jews at the time held extreme animosity towards each other.
A Jew would not have expected a Samaritan to stop and help him. To be honest, the Jew might not have even wanted the Samaritan to stop. Not only was the Samaritan not expected to stop, but it may have reflected badly upon the Samaritan for doing so. The Jew didn’t live near the Samaritan and it is highly doubtful that he considered the Samaritan to be his neighbor.
But Jesus told us that the Samaritan was a neighbor to the Jew. That if we are to love our neighbor as ourselves we have to be there for those whom we do not want to. Not when it hurts, not when its scary. We have to put ourselves aside for this – far away neighbor?
Sometimes it can be hard enough to put ourselves aside for those whom we love voluntarily. A friend who needs you when you had scheduled a date, sick relative when you are already stretched thin with other tasks. And yet, to “inherit eternal life” we must love those whom we want hate?
We can’t be vengeful. We, we as students can’t stand by children dying every day of curable diseases and not work to fund the MDGs while going out partying every weekend and say we love our neighbor. We can’t not teach our children that Americans put Japanese Americans in internment camps during World War II because they looked different, cause it makes us feel embarrassed. We can’t drop bombs on hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians and say we are loving our neighbor.
Who is our neighbor? According to Jesus, to a Jew it was all of the priests, the Levites, and the Samaritans. The last of whom had all the reason in the world to be angry, and vengeful, and leave the man, but instead gave him money and lodging, and hope.
It’s hard isn’t it – to not only turn the other cheek, but to turn to a person when everything in us is feeling anger and hatred. When we want to call out against a person because of their clothing, religion, or their believes, or those that we suppose they have when we look at them. Doesn’t it hurt?
Doesn’t it hurt to know that Jesus died on a cross for us to have eternal life – but for us to earn it the gospel says we have to love God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our strength, and with all our minds and that to do that MUST love neighbor as ourselves – that we have to sacrifice our pride, our prejudices, our fears and self-protection to truly see beyond what we want to see and see what is.
That in order to truly inherit that which God has promised, we must turn ourselves over to the Lord our God to be filled with his will, strength, spiritual understanding, and PATIENCE.
O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them.
In nominee…
Proper 10C
O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them.
In nominee…
Success. We all want to be successful. I mean, success can come in a lot of forms, but, in general, we tend to want to do well. Today’s first two lessons speak of the word as providing means to success.
In today’s lessons Moses reminded the Jews that the Lord “would make them abundantly prosperous in all their undertakings – in their bodies, and families, and land - as he did to their ancestors – he would make them SUCCSSFUL when they followed the law and turned their hearts and soul over to the Lord.
And Moses reminded them, they knew the word of the Lord,
That it was in their hearts and in their minds already. And that as hard or annoying as following that law may seem, turning our heart and soul to God is dealwithable,
its not too hard, not in heaven, not “over there”, here, we can do it, here, and now.
The second lesson presents the beginning of Paul’s letter to the Colossians.
Paul writes that hope and prosperity are in the gospel -- that the gospel is bearing fruit for the whole world. As in Deuteronomy this lesson says that following and turning to God leads to success. In Deuteronomy Moses directs the Jews to turn to the law, their covenant with God, Paul reminds us to look towards the gospel in Christ – our new Covenant.
Today’s readings not only serve to remind us to turn fully turn our hearts and souls to the Lord, but also reassure us that although it may not seem easy, It is not too hard. That we are capable. Paul specifically reminds us that we must be patient. We must be open, that we must be filled with God’s will and spiritual understand, strong with his strength and patience.
Lofty thoughts. Sounds hard, I mean, why bother? Filled with God’s will? Strong with God’s strength, and patience, and God’s spiritual understanding? But, God’s God. Man, that sounds hard, and, and annoying.
But taking a look at today’s Gospel, Paul makes a good point. I mean, God really raised the stakes, and his expectations.
In today’s gospel a lawyer asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Just as Moses reminded the Jews that they knew the law in their hearts, Jesus confirms that the lawyer knew the “correct” answer, and the lawyer responds that you must love the Lord your God and love your neighbor as yourself.
At this point I’m sure most of us here know the story by heart – the lawyer asks “who is my neighbor” and Jesus responds with the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Good Samaritan - its one of those stories that tends to pop-up. Like the Prodigal Son and the Lost Sheep, this story seems to turn up in every Vacation Bible School curriculum and illustrated children’s bible. We learned it as children and though it gives us that warm comfy feeling inside, we can kinda of, click off, when we hear it.
A Jew is hit up by robbers. He’s left for dead. A priest passes by, but doesn’t stop so as to retain ritual purity. A Levite passes by but doesn’t stop either. Then a Samaritan passes the injured Jew - a person with a reason not to stop by – and he stops. He puts the man on his own animal, gets him to an inn, and leaves him with money.
Given the time, it would have made more sense for the Samaritan to pass by. Actually it would have made more sense for him to kick the guy while he was down. Samaritans and Jews at the time held extreme animosity towards each other.
A Jew would not have expected a Samaritan to stop and help him. To be honest, the Jew might not have even wanted the Samaritan to stop. Not only was the Samaritan not expected to stop, but it may have reflected badly upon the Samaritan for doing so. The Jew didn’t live near the Samaritan and it is highly doubtful that he considered the Samaritan to be his neighbor.
But Jesus told us that the Samaritan was a neighbor to the Jew. That if we are to love our neighbor as ourselves we have to be there for those whom we do not want to. Not when it hurts, not when its scary. We have to put ourselves aside for this – far away neighbor?
Sometimes it can be hard enough to put ourselves aside for those whom we love voluntarily. A friend who needs you when you had scheduled a date, sick relative when you are already stretched thin with other tasks. And yet, to “inherit eternal life” we must love those whom we want hate?
We can’t be vengeful. We, we as students can’t stand by children dying every day of curable diseases and not work to fund the MDGs while going out partying every weekend and say we love our neighbor. We can’t not teach our children that Americans put Japanese Americans in internment camps during World War II because they looked different, cause it makes us feel embarrassed. We can’t drop bombs on hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians and say we are loving our neighbor.
Who is our neighbor? According to Jesus, to a Jew it was all of the priests, the Levites, and the Samaritans. The last of whom had all the reason in the world to be angry, and vengeful, and leave the man, but instead gave him money and lodging, and hope.
It’s hard isn’t it – to not only turn the other cheek, but to turn to a person when everything in us is feeling anger and hatred. When we want to call out against a person because of their clothing, religion, or their believes, or those that we suppose they have when we look at them. Doesn’t it hurt?
Doesn’t it hurt to know that Jesus died on a cross for us to have eternal life – but for us to earn it the gospel says we have to love God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our strength, and with all our minds and that to do that MUST love neighbor as ourselves – that we have to sacrifice our pride, our prejudices, our fears and self-protection to truly see beyond what we want to see and see what is.
That in order to truly inherit that which God has promised, we must turn ourselves over to the Lord our God to be filled with his will, strength, spiritual understanding, and PATIENCE.
O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them.
In nominee…
Sunday, June 10, 2007
10 June 2007
10 June 2007
Proper 5 Year C
1 Kings 17:17-24
Galatians 1:11-24
Luke 7:11-17
Please be seated.
Once you are dead, you are dead. Right? Well according to today’s lessons, not so fast.
Today’s first lesson recounts the story of the raising of a young man from the dead. Incidentally, the gospel has the same theme, however, lets stick to Kings for now.
When I first read over this lesson I was struck by what seemed to be the apathy of God. In earlier chapters of first Kings we learn that the city where the widow and her son live is going through a drought in part because many there are worshipping false Gods. This poor starving widow agrees to take in Elijah and soon after her son grows ill and dies.
The response of both the widow and Elijah is to get angry at God for bringing this misfortune upon the family, especially after she showed faith in taking in Elijah. Elijah cries “O Lord my God, have you brought calamity even upon the widow with whom I am staying, by killing her son?”
The story then recounts Elijah praying three time and God listening to the voice of Elijah and the life returning to the dead son.
When I read that, my first thought was “man, God seems mean. Doesn’t care about the widow or the son. Not my kind of guy.”
(sarcastic pause)
There’s this traditional line of thinking that the God of the Hebrew Scriptures is angry while the God of the New Testament is nice. The God of Justice vs. the God of Mercy.
Elijah has to ask God three times before God responds.
In today’s Gospel Jesus approaches the widow’s son and heals him – no request, no questions asked. Nice guy, right?
I’ll be honest, I’ve always been skeptical of the God of Justice vs. the God of Mercy bit. Wasn’t it the God of the Hebrew scriptures who gave the 10 commandments, and who gave the law to the Jews? God so loved his chosen people that he gave to them a set of rubrics that would provide for the most righteous life for them until a later time, the coming of the messiah. It was only when they stopped doing the most basic of these commandments: “have no other Gods before me”, that things weren’t really working out. The law, to the Jews, was an outward and visible sign of Gods love and care for them. When the people in the reading from Kings turned away from this commandment, they turned away from God, and ultimately, their own happiness.
Okay, now a shift.
Paul.
Paul wrote today’s letter from Galatians.
Paul, as we all know, was a Jew. And if we didn’t know this fact before, today’s epistle tells us this. Paul was a Jew who persecuted followers of Christ.
Paul says that he was “called through God’s grace” to have Jesus revealed to him. He left his life of tradition in Judaism and recognized Jesus as the fulfillment of his own scriptures. Which God was it who called him to this new life? As a Jew, was it his God, that many consider to be annoying, almost irresponsible, in the Hebrew Scriptures, or was it the loving, kind God of the New Testament?
While clearly both are the same God, this example blatantly breaks up the assumed dichotomy of Justice vs Mercy.
That just and merciful God that brought Paul to new life in Christ, truly
brought the two boys from today’s lessons to new life.
Imagine what that must be like: Your son, or daughter, or cousin, or best friend who had died, now brought back to life. What a tangible recognition of the power and love of God!
Yet, clearly, this is not a common occurrence. I mean, I can think of very few people who were raised from the dead:
"The boy in Kings was raised from the dead, the man in Luke was raised from the dead, we all know about Lazarus of Bethany. Aslan, the lion in C.S. Lewis's novels "The Chronicles of Narnia was raised" Joe Pendleton in Heaven Can Wait was given another shot and in The Princess Bride the character Westley was raised by Billy Crystal. Albus Dumbledore - oh wait, we don't know that for sure yet – must believe. Anyhow, I feel like we are leaving someone out… oh yeah… Jesus.
Sometimes it really seems as if Jesus’s resurrection is a really good IDEA.
I mean, imagining a deceased close friend or family member alive is so, so tangible, and Christ’s resurrection often seems INtangible – so very far away. We know it happened, we believe it happened, yet, we often forget it happened, it almost seems somehow, irrelevant.
And yet, it is because of Christ’s resurrection that we can, with full hearts repeat from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: “O Death where is thy sting, O grave, where is thy victory?”
It is because of Christ being raised from the dead that we, as Christians, no longer need that law as God set it forth in the Hebrew scriptures.
In our heads we know that, as with Paul, in Christ’s resurrection we are given the opportunity for a new life. We are invited to eternal life – something that is a lot better, fulfilling, long lasting than one person being raised, until they die again from natural type reasons.
As always, we are left to wonder, why these two boys, why not another man or girl who was dead. Where is God’s MERCY in letting the other people remain dead. Why that son, why not my best friend.
And yet, what if it was my best friend, and not one of these boys, what if it was my relative and not Jesus.
I keep using the example of my best friend because she was the closest example I can think of. When she died I remember thinking the same thing that Elijah and the widow said “why did you take her away from us, after all she did, all we did.” Praying three times didn’t bring her back. But, I know she is alive in the risen Christ.
There is something to be said for instant gratification. We all love it. Its here, its now, it satisfies us. So of course, for what is best, we have to wait. In the chapter from Kings, the village was being punished because they were worshipping false Gods. Those gods were gods who promised more instant things – rain, fertility, etc.
God wants us to wait.
In Christ’s resurrection we are promised a lot. A lot that is to come later.
That we have to wait around for. Some of what we receive later that will be very tangible, but now seems very intangible.
What we have to remember is that Christ’s resurrection, and the effects thereof are just as real and tangible as the raising of those boys or Joe Peddleton, or Westley. As I questioned at the beginning of the sermon, once we are dead, we are not dead. Only, unlike the movie characters, we have the opportunity to live in Christ’s resurrection, though the justice and mercy of the one true and loving God who lives and reigns forever and ever.
Amen.
Proper 5 Year C
1 Kings 17:17-24
Galatians 1:11-24
Luke 7:11-17
Please be seated.
Once you are dead, you are dead. Right? Well according to today’s lessons, not so fast.
Today’s first lesson recounts the story of the raising of a young man from the dead. Incidentally, the gospel has the same theme, however, lets stick to Kings for now.
When I first read over this lesson I was struck by what seemed to be the apathy of God. In earlier chapters of first Kings we learn that the city where the widow and her son live is going through a drought in part because many there are worshipping false Gods. This poor starving widow agrees to take in Elijah and soon after her son grows ill and dies.
The response of both the widow and Elijah is to get angry at God for bringing this misfortune upon the family, especially after she showed faith in taking in Elijah. Elijah cries “O Lord my God, have you brought calamity even upon the widow with whom I am staying, by killing her son?”
The story then recounts Elijah praying three time and God listening to the voice of Elijah and the life returning to the dead son.
When I read that, my first thought was “man, God seems mean. Doesn’t care about the widow or the son. Not my kind of guy.”
(sarcastic pause)
There’s this traditional line of thinking that the God of the Hebrew Scriptures is angry while the God of the New Testament is nice. The God of Justice vs. the God of Mercy.
Elijah has to ask God three times before God responds.
In today’s Gospel Jesus approaches the widow’s son and heals him – no request, no questions asked. Nice guy, right?
I’ll be honest, I’ve always been skeptical of the God of Justice vs. the God of Mercy bit. Wasn’t it the God of the Hebrew scriptures who gave the 10 commandments, and who gave the law to the Jews? God so loved his chosen people that he gave to them a set of rubrics that would provide for the most righteous life for them until a later time, the coming of the messiah. It was only when they stopped doing the most basic of these commandments: “have no other Gods before me”, that things weren’t really working out. The law, to the Jews, was an outward and visible sign of Gods love and care for them. When the people in the reading from Kings turned away from this commandment, they turned away from God, and ultimately, their own happiness.
Okay, now a shift.
Paul.
Paul wrote today’s letter from Galatians.
Paul, as we all know, was a Jew. And if we didn’t know this fact before, today’s epistle tells us this. Paul was a Jew who persecuted followers of Christ.
Paul says that he was “called through God’s grace” to have Jesus revealed to him. He left his life of tradition in Judaism and recognized Jesus as the fulfillment of his own scriptures. Which God was it who called him to this new life? As a Jew, was it his God, that many consider to be annoying, almost irresponsible, in the Hebrew Scriptures, or was it the loving, kind God of the New Testament?
While clearly both are the same God, this example blatantly breaks up the assumed dichotomy of Justice vs Mercy.
That just and merciful God that brought Paul to new life in Christ, truly
brought the two boys from today’s lessons to new life.
Imagine what that must be like: Your son, or daughter, or cousin, or best friend who had died, now brought back to life. What a tangible recognition of the power and love of God!
Yet, clearly, this is not a common occurrence. I mean, I can think of very few people who were raised from the dead:
"The boy in Kings was raised from the dead, the man in Luke was raised from the dead, we all know about Lazarus of Bethany. Aslan, the lion in C.S. Lewis's novels "The Chronicles of Narnia was raised" Joe Pendleton in Heaven Can Wait was given another shot and in The Princess Bride the character Westley was raised by Billy Crystal. Albus Dumbledore - oh wait, we don't know that for sure yet – must believe. Anyhow, I feel like we are leaving someone out… oh yeah… Jesus.
Sometimes it really seems as if Jesus’s resurrection is a really good IDEA.
I mean, imagining a deceased close friend or family member alive is so, so tangible, and Christ’s resurrection often seems INtangible – so very far away. We know it happened, we believe it happened, yet, we often forget it happened, it almost seems somehow, irrelevant.
And yet, it is because of Christ’s resurrection that we can, with full hearts repeat from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: “O Death where is thy sting, O grave, where is thy victory?”
It is because of Christ being raised from the dead that we, as Christians, no longer need that law as God set it forth in the Hebrew scriptures.
In our heads we know that, as with Paul, in Christ’s resurrection we are given the opportunity for a new life. We are invited to eternal life – something that is a lot better, fulfilling, long lasting than one person being raised, until they die again from natural type reasons.
As always, we are left to wonder, why these two boys, why not another man or girl who was dead. Where is God’s MERCY in letting the other people remain dead. Why that son, why not my best friend.
And yet, what if it was my best friend, and not one of these boys, what if it was my relative and not Jesus.
I keep using the example of my best friend because she was the closest example I can think of. When she died I remember thinking the same thing that Elijah and the widow said “why did you take her away from us, after all she did, all we did.” Praying three times didn’t bring her back. But, I know she is alive in the risen Christ.
There is something to be said for instant gratification. We all love it. Its here, its now, it satisfies us. So of course, for what is best, we have to wait. In the chapter from Kings, the village was being punished because they were worshipping false Gods. Those gods were gods who promised more instant things – rain, fertility, etc.
God wants us to wait.
In Christ’s resurrection we are promised a lot. A lot that is to come later.
That we have to wait around for. Some of what we receive later that will be very tangible, but now seems very intangible.
What we have to remember is that Christ’s resurrection, and the effects thereof are just as real and tangible as the raising of those boys or Joe Peddleton, or Westley. As I questioned at the beginning of the sermon, once we are dead, we are not dead. Only, unlike the movie characters, we have the opportunity to live in Christ’s resurrection, though the justice and mercy of the one true and loving God who lives and reigns forever and ever.
Amen.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
3 April 2007
3 April 2007
Evening Prayer
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Wisdom. Wisdom is a goal for which we all strive. To understand. To see things – clearly. Wisdom may be why some of us are here tonight. We hope to gain it … we hope to learn it – or hear it. We want to be all knowing and to understand. To be like, our grandmothers, loved teachers, the omnipotent narrator in stories. To understand ourselves, to understand suffering and love, to understand the world around us.
And yet today’s reading from Corinthians appears to tell us that human wisdom is folly.
“Where is the one who is wise?” We hear from Paul:
“ Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made the foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe.”
My initial reaction to reading this line was confusion and frustration. Isn’t that why I’m in college – to learn stuff? To become wise? We are taught to shy away from that which is foolish. We watch the Discovery Channel and read the NY Times. We do crossword puzzles and sudoku and play games and make decisions that thrive on logic. As kids we are told to act logically and as we get older, dreams we had – our foolish thoughts-get crushed or morphed into more practical and mundane matters. The logical hold themselves above the foolish and rest tend to agree.
“Has not God made the foolish the wisdom of the world?”
Paul goes on to say that “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are…”
As much as I am trying to get away from it, my mind keeps jumping to a line Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella:
“For the world is full of zanies and fools who don’t believe in sensible rules, and won’t believe what sensible people say. Because these daft and dewy-eyed dopes keep building up impossible hopes impossible, things are happening everyday.”
Cinderella, a plain country girl, alone and abused believes this woman who appears to her, and she eventually becomes a princess.
While, as Paul points out that we shouldn’t be looking for signs or miracles, there clearly is something to be said to stepping back from the logical – and what’s considered to be the wisdom and logic of the time. There is something to be said for stepping away from logic and believing the improbable.
Paul writers “God has chosen what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are.” He writes “Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?”
Maybe it’s the foolish who really know what’s going on.
The foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength.”
That is really comforting in many ways, but it can also be discouraging. We are raised to want to be smart. To want to get away from foolishness. Children play games to act and dress like adults (and are then told they are being foolish) in hopes of wisdom.
We want to be in control. We want promotions. We want proof. We want to be certain. And here we are being told that we can never be the wisest, we can never be the smartest or be on top, and that quite frankly,
WE SHOULDN’T WANT TO BE!
Add what you want to think
That’s God’s job. God is the wisest, God is the strongest. God is wiser and stronger than anything we can imagine, study, or comprehend.
God is really so much bigger than we are. God is so much wiser and so much stronger and so much our father and mother and grandmother and teachers and storyteller that we can ever imagine.
We can’t control or comprehend or understand or know everything. It is in trying to understand everything that we lose the mystery of the Word Made Flesh – that we lose the comfort God can provide for us – it is in trying to understand everything that we lose understanding.
Cinderella believed the impossible – she believed that a plain yellow pumpkin could be come a golden carriage and that a plain country bumpkin and a prince could join in marriage.
The gospel of Christ crucified – the story that we are walking is very week asks us to believe the foolish. It asks us to believe a 2000 year old story that circumvents many of the rules of medicine and physics. It asks us to put aside what we have studied to consider wisdom and instead believe - and in that believe we have life.
Evening Prayer
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Wisdom. Wisdom is a goal for which we all strive. To understand. To see things – clearly. Wisdom may be why some of us are here tonight. We hope to gain it … we hope to learn it – or hear it. We want to be all knowing and to understand. To be like, our grandmothers, loved teachers, the omnipotent narrator in stories. To understand ourselves, to understand suffering and love, to understand the world around us.
And yet today’s reading from Corinthians appears to tell us that human wisdom is folly.
“Where is the one who is wise?” We hear from Paul:
“ Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made the foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe.”
My initial reaction to reading this line was confusion and frustration. Isn’t that why I’m in college – to learn stuff? To become wise? We are taught to shy away from that which is foolish. We watch the Discovery Channel and read the NY Times. We do crossword puzzles and sudoku and play games and make decisions that thrive on logic. As kids we are told to act logically and as we get older, dreams we had – our foolish thoughts-get crushed or morphed into more practical and mundane matters. The logical hold themselves above the foolish and rest tend to agree.
“Has not God made the foolish the wisdom of the world?”
Paul goes on to say that “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are…”
As much as I am trying to get away from it, my mind keeps jumping to a line Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella:
“For the world is full of zanies and fools who don’t believe in sensible rules, and won’t believe what sensible people say. Because these daft and dewy-eyed dopes keep building up impossible hopes impossible, things are happening everyday.”
Cinderella, a plain country girl, alone and abused believes this woman who appears to her, and she eventually becomes a princess.
While, as Paul points out that we shouldn’t be looking for signs or miracles, there clearly is something to be said to stepping back from the logical – and what’s considered to be the wisdom and logic of the time. There is something to be said for stepping away from logic and believing the improbable.
Paul writers “God has chosen what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are.” He writes “Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?”
Maybe it’s the foolish who really know what’s going on.
The foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength.”
That is really comforting in many ways, but it can also be discouraging. We are raised to want to be smart. To want to get away from foolishness. Children play games to act and dress like adults (and are then told they are being foolish) in hopes of wisdom.
We want to be in control. We want promotions. We want proof. We want to be certain. And here we are being told that we can never be the wisest, we can never be the smartest or be on top, and that quite frankly,
WE SHOULDN’T WANT TO BE!
Add what you want to think
That’s God’s job. God is the wisest, God is the strongest. God is wiser and stronger than anything we can imagine, study, or comprehend.
God is really so much bigger than we are. God is so much wiser and so much stronger and so much our father and mother and grandmother and teachers and storyteller that we can ever imagine.
We can’t control or comprehend or understand or know everything. It is in trying to understand everything that we lose the mystery of the Word Made Flesh – that we lose the comfort God can provide for us – it is in trying to understand everything that we lose understanding.
Cinderella believed the impossible – she believed that a plain yellow pumpkin could be come a golden carriage and that a plain country bumpkin and a prince could join in marriage.
The gospel of Christ crucified – the story that we are walking is very week asks us to believe the foolish. It asks us to believe a 2000 year old story that circumvents many of the rules of medicine and physics. It asks us to put aside what we have studied to consider wisdom and instead believe - and in that believe we have life.
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