About Time

“Our God, Our Help in Ages Past” is Hymn #1 in the Pilgrim Hymnal, which was the hymnal of my childhood church, and of this church too until about 14 years ago. There is a verse we rarely sang (because it was the fifth verse, we usually only sang the first four), but when I read it as a child it chilled me to the bone:

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day. (Isaac Watts)

Time is a cannibal? Time eats its own children? I could not imagine why this verse was in the hymnal. It perplexed me to no end.
Another hymn of my childhood was not in the Pilgrim Hymnal, but it was in the Genesis songbook that we used in youth group. It was also about time:

Come gather ‘round people wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have grown
And accept it that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone,
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone,
FOR THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGIN’! (Bob Dylan)

Two songs, one written almost 300 years before the other, share a similar message about the nature of time. It is no respecter of dreams or desires. Time is not vindictive. There is nothing personal in the march of time. Time just is what it is, and will be what it will be. Time moves, rolls like an ever-flowing stream, rises like a flood.
The first conversation in the book, Changing the Conversation is called “It’s not about you.” We humans tend to take a lot of things personally, even things which are impersonal, things which neither we, nor anyone else, can control. When it’s warm and sunny during our summer vacation, we might attribute it to the grace of God or a benevolent spirit: “Somebody up there must like me.” If its cold and rainy, “What did I do to deserve this?” It’s just weather. It’s not about you, right?
The times have been “a-changin’,” and the church as we knew it has been, in a sense, “borne away.” Not just our church, all churches. It’s nothing personal. It’s nothing you or I or anyone else did wrong. It just is.
The Arts Committee has created this display (see it in the Fellowship Hall)to help us begin that first conversation (It’s not about you), and to bid farewell to “Christendom.” (It also inspired us to empty out a few junk drawers, which were stuffed with old photos!)
As you look at these faces and places, remember and give thanks for what is past. And, let it go. Hear the words of the prophet Isaiah:

Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert. (Isaiah 43:18-19)

Or, if you must remember the former things, don’t worship them. You may consider what is past, but don’t let is keep you from participating in the present and celebrating the new life that God is creating. “Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”

Seeing Salvation

In the gospel of Luke, in the words of the “Song of Zechariah,” Zechariah prophesied that his son John will be the one to prepare the way for the one who will give people “knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of sins.” A few chapters later, John is described as the one who will prepare the way for the one who is to come, in whom “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
There is a precedent in scripture, for seeing salvation. Time and again God gives us a clue, a sign, a far-off glimpse of salvation. Moses got a view of salvation when he stood on the mountaintop and saw the Promised Land. Martin Luther King, Jr, who referred to that mountaintop experience in his last sermon, he too had a glimpse of salvation. Neither Martin nor Moses ever got to set foot in their Promised Land, but they saw and described what salvation looked like, each in his own time, each to his own people.
God gives us glimpses of salvation, and a kind of a road map of how to get there, but the rest is up to us. The land flowing with milk and honey was a part of the covenant promise God made with the people. Another part of the covenant was the law, God’s model of how to participate in the creation and the maintenance of salvation.

“Salvation” is a word that we don’t use much, it is a “churchy” word and perhaps one that we are not very comfortable with.

Kathleen Norris, in her book Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith tells a story to describe salvation.
First, you need to know the setting of the story: It is Lemmon, South Dakota, a town in sparsely populated ranch country, not unlike the town of Hyannis, Nebraska, where I once lived. And what you need to know about rural, ranching communities is that after high school graduation, there are not a lot of options for young folk. If you are young in Hyannis, Nebraska, or Lemmon, South Dakota, and you decide to stay and work the ranch, like your parents, well, your parents will be pleased to have you around, but also, a little disappointed. They will wonder what’s wrong with you. Why you don’t go to college, or find work in one of the bigger cities, like North Platte, or Omaha, or maybe Denver. But if you decide to go to college, or to the city, well, then, “Who do you think you are? I suppose you’re too good for us now.” So you see, you can’t win.
Kathleen tells the story of one of these young men from Lemmon, who decided to leave, and try his luck in the city. He wasn’t well equipped for life in the city, he had a hard time finding a job that would support even a meager subsistence. Eventually, he did hit upon a lucrative, but illegal trade, selling drugs. And he thought life was great! Until, one day, he was driving out in the countryside with a “business colleague” They spotted an oncoming car and waved, which is something you just do, out west. There are so few people out there, that when you see a vehicle approaching you get ready to make eye contact and offer a friendly wave, because it’s likely somebody you know and you wouldn’t want to appear unfriendly. Well, this young man’s friend, who was driving, did indeed recognize the driver of the oncoming car, and he pulled over and stopped, and said, “I’m supposed to kill that guy.”
“I’m supposed to kill that guy, but someone was with him.” He pulled a gun out of the glove compartment as he contemplated his next move. The young man from Lemmon saw, for the first time, where his life was headed, if he continued down this path he had chosen to follow. And he later told Kathleen Norris, who wrote it down in a book, that at that moment, he knew, that if he survived the day, he was going to turn around, and go home.
That was the moment at which he saw salvation, and seeing it from a distance, began to make his way there. His life was saved. That is salvation.
Jesus came to show us salvation, and that is what he did. The parables are, in a sense, salvation sightings.

Whenever Jesus began to say, “The kingdom of God is like,” he proceeded to paint of picture of salvation.

Salvation is like this: It’s like a younger son, saying to his father, “Give me my inheritance now,” and then going off and spending it wastefully. When he realizes that he has been foolish, he repents, he turns around and goes home, expecting punishment, but instead, he is forgiven and treated to a feast! That’s what salvation looks like.
It looks like finding the coin that you thought was lost! It looks like planting seed and reaping a harvest!
Jesus also used the “object lesson” to show us salvation. One day, when people were gathered on a hillside to hear him preach, and it was getting late, and his disciples said, you better wrap it up and send these people home to get their supper, Jesus said to his disciples, “You give them something to eat.” They pooled their bread and fish, and Jesus took the bread and blessed it and broke it and began to share. And lo and behold, there was enough for everyone. More than enough, in fact, there were leftovers.
That’s what salvation is like.

When we share this meal, we repeat the object lesson. Here, at this table, all are welcome, and everyone gets what they need. No one gets too much, no one gets too little. In this meal, we get a glimpse of salvation.

What does salvation look like to you? Maybe it looks like the face of a loved one, who is there beside you when you come out of surgery and the haze of anesthesia, and you realize you are not dead!”
Maybe it looks like your sister reaching out and lifting you out of the lake after you fell through the ice (Lisa W shared this story with me).
We are the body of Christ, and individually, members of it, and therefore, it is our task to give to the world “knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of sins.” As the body of Christ, how can we show people what salvation looks like?
After describing salvation in the parable of the man who was saved by the good Samaritan, Jesus said, go and do likewise. Participate in someone’s salvation. Go and do likewise.
As we share this bread, and this cup, see in this meal the salvation of God, and go and do likewise.
Thanks be to God, for this salvation sighting. Amen.

Everywhere a sign

When we are driving down the road, and see in our rearview mirror the flashing lights of an ambulance, we know it’s time to slow down and move out of the way.
When we hear the whistle blowing, we know it’s time to look out for the train.
When we are at home, lying in our beds, and we hear the ear-piercing “beep,” we know it’s time to get up and change the batteries in the smoke detector.
So many signs, so many signals. Our response to most of these signs is so automatic we barely notice the process of interpretation. The alarm clock rings, the toast pops, the coffee-pot gurgles, time to begin a new day.
There are always signs.
Here are some signs:
The vast majority of weddings I have conducted over the past 19 years have been for non-church-members. Most of those couples, usually in their 20’s, had not attended church except for occasional holiday services. Most of their parents, usually in their 40’s, were not members of any church. To find any church members in their family, they have to go back to their grandparents’ generation, and then they might have one out of four grandparents who is an active member of a church.
A recent study of American religious congregations found that every Christian denomination was shrinking. Evangelical churches and mainline churches are all losing members. The fastest growing demographic is “no religious preference.” Also growing in number is the group of people who say they are “spiritual, but not religious.”
These are signs of the times. But how do we interpret them? And what should we do? We know how to interpret the flashing lights and the train whistle and the alarm clock, and we know how to respond to them. But what about these signs of the times? What change in behavior do they require of us?

Most "signs" are identified in hindsight.

It’s hard to say. Most really big events, which become known as signs of the times, are only identified in hindsight. As I wrote in my newsletter article: The birth of Jesus changed everything. But when Jesus was born, who knew what was happening? Most people had no idea that a child was being born who would change the world. If the innkeeper in Luke’s story knew, he would have made room in the inn.
Just so, most events that are considered signs of great change are identified only after the fact. Consider the Guttenberg press. This technology—the printing press—signaled the dawn of a new age of enlightenment. It enabled people to print their thoughts and share their ideas more broadly and quickly than ever before, and this sharing of ideas enabled the development of other technologies which eventually grew into an industrial revolution. That printing press changed the world.
But at the time, who knew? Guttenberg’s neighbors probably complained about the horrible racket this new contraption made. Some people were probably worried that this printing press be a threat to “family values.” If anybody could get their ideas printed, for anybody to read, well, who knows what might happen?

Changing the Conversation: A Third Way for Congregations. by Anthony B. Robinson

Some of us have been reading a book called “Changing the Conversation.” In it, the author writes about a monumental change in culture, a sea-change, he calls it. The world has changed, and the church has changed, and we know this is true, and most of the change is for the best. Think about the world of Dick, Jane and Sally, those characters who taught us how to read. Some of you only had Dick and Jane—but I came in late to the series and so Sally was a part of that family too, by then. And Spot. “See spot run.”
In Dick, Jane and Sally’s world everyone went to church. Everyone. Some of our neighbors went to different churches, but everyone went somewhere. The shops weren’t open, so there was nothing else to do anyway. And when we went to church, men wore suits. And ladies wore dresses, and hats, and white gloves. Remember the gloves? Maybe if we started wearing gloves to church again we could shake hands without worrying about the flu virus. Maybe we should bring glove fashion back. But the rest of it, the suits and the dresses and the hats, they are gone, and most of us think it’s a good thing.
So, this group that has been meeting, and reading, we have been considering how to be the church in a new world. How might we respond to the signs of the times, these signs of a missing generation?
One common response to this information (I have heard it so often!) is to say, it’s normal that young people leave church for a time. They will come back once they have children of their own. Well, right away I can identify a couple of flaws in this logic.
First, most of that missing generation have no church to go back to. They never were involved in church. Their parents didn’t take them to church. It’s not even something that they consider “normal.” It’s not that they don’t like church, they just don’t think of it at all, except as a place to go for weddings and funerals. The kids are not coming back, because most of them were never here in the first place.

Dick and Jane don't live here anymore.

The second flaw in the logic is that even the young people who were raised in a congregation live in a different world from the one which formed our reasoning. Back when “Dick and Jane” went to church in their suits and hats and white gloves, it was a different world. In Dick and Jane’s world, young people graduated from high school, went to work, and got married. Then they started having children about 9 months and 10 minutes later. So that period of being “out” of church, between high school graduation and parenthood, was only a few years.
But today, today we have different expectations. Today, we don’t want our children getting married after high school. We want them to go to college, and then get established in their careers. Then maybe when they are about thirty, they can have their first serious boyfriend or girlfriend, and then get married, and then a few years after that, when they are ready, they might have children. Or not.
So, if we accept it as “normal” that children will leave church after confirmation, at age 15, and come back after they have children, that could be, what, 20 years later? That is a long time to go without the support and love of a congregation.
That’s why it is urgent that we begin to find new ways to be the church, in a new world. It is urgent. But I want to make it perfectly clear that there is a difference between urgency and anxiety. I'll say it again.

There is a difference between urgency and anxiety.

Anxiety is a worthless emotion. Anxiety interferes with our ability to think creatively. Anxiety causes a change in our brain chemistry, which diverts blood flow from our cerebral cortex, the problem solving part of the brain, and sends it to the brain stem, the basic animal brain, the part of the brain that gets the body ready to fight, or run away. So anxiety is no good, because it starves this beautiful cerebral cortex that God designed for reasoning and creating, and we will need all the reason and creativity we can muster.
What did Jesus say, time and again? “Be not afraid.” Do not be anxious. The signs of the times, the change that is coming, is not something to fear. In the gospel lesson today Jesus says when you see the signs, Look up! Because your redemption is drawing near! Freedom is drawing near! Salvation is drawing near! It’s not the end, it’s the beginning, it’s new life!
Like I said, Jesus changed everything. Jesus changed the way people thought about their religion. That’s why he was always in trouble with the religious authorities, the good, upright and pious people of his day. The Pharisees, the scribes, the leaders of synagogues accused him of being irreligious, because he and his disciples didn’t follow all the traditions. What Jesus taught was that some traditions are not essential. Some traditions, in fact, just get in the way of being in a right relationship with God. The essential tradition is mercy. Jesus said to the Pharisees and scribes, “Go learn what this means, I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” It is mercy, love, and forgiveness that really matter, and the rest is like the chaff that the wind drives away. Let it go. Hold on to mercy, forgiveness, distributive justice, and love.
And be not afraid. There is a future, with God. Behold your redeemer comes! Thanks be to God, for the signs of the times.

The Day the World Changed

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, as the story goes, most people had no idea that the world was about to change. Day-to-day life continued, as usual. Farmers planted grain, vintners tended vines. The sun set and rose, night and day, the grain grew, the fruit ripened, the harvest came and went, the cycled continued.
And yet… and yet, everything changed. The coming of the Christ changed the world. The one who was born and grew up to be Jesus of Nazareth, who went about doing good, healing people who were ill, feeding people who were hungry, he is the one who “brought down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” The movement leader who sent his followers into the world to proclaim the good news of God’s forgiving love, and to teach people that love is the fulfillment of God’s law, he is the one through whom we know the salvation of God. This man, who disarmed the disciple who was ready to fight for him, who did not lift a hand in self-defense, even as he was taken away to his death, he is the one who, throughout the ages, has been lauded as the Prince of Peace.
Everything changed. Only a few perceived it. Mary, Zechariah, Simeon and Anna, these are the few who, like human Richter scales, felt the earth move, and their songs are recorded in the gospel according to Luke.
The world is changing. At the dawn of this third millennium of Christianity, the world is changing. Though the rhythm of life remains essentially the same-- we wake, we work, we love, we eat, we sleep—the world in which we live is shifting tectonically. What does this mean for us? How does this change affect the way we see ourselves, and God, and our church in relation to God’s mission in the world?

Bending Toward Justice

Every year at this time, as we near the end of the church year, we read from the texts associated with end-times in general. The church year begins in Advent, 4 weeks before Christmas, and ends in November, and so November brings us the poetry of the end times, which seems particularly appropriate here in the northern latitudes.

In the Hebrew scriptures, which were the scriptures of the early church, the "end times" never signifies the end of the world. That would be unthinkable. The world God made is infinite and eternal, as God is. There is the story of the great flood, but the point of that story is that God promised there would be no do-overs. No more destruction. And God put the arc of the rainbow in the sky as a sign of peace, a sign of the promise never to destroy the earth, ever again.

So what the end times, or the day of the Lord, or the Messiah’s coming would mean to Jews like Jesus, is that the day would come when finally, evil would be punished, and good rewarded, and justice would roll and righteousness flow.

The end of suffering, the beginning of salvation. The end of hunger, the beginning of a feast.

So the end times which were announced by prophets and Jesus, these are not about the destruction of the earth, but about right-relationships restored on the earth. Not by bloody battle, but by the only thing which can restore relationship: love, repentance, and forgiveness.

I begin with this clarification because there seems to be renewed interest, in popular culture, in the end of the world. The violent vision of the destruction of the world seems to come in cycles, and gain special momentum in what we call “hard times.” It happened early enough in the life of the church to warrant a special mention in the gospel.

Just before the gospel of Jesus Christ was written down in the form that we now recognize as the Gospel according to Mark, Jerusalem was besieged by Rome, and the temple was destroyed. Marauding legions carried away everything that was valuable, burned what they couldn’t carry, and pulled down the walls, so that not one stone was left standing atop another. Over one million citizens were killed in the siege.

Let the reader understand, and the reader would understand—the destruction of the temple does not mean the end has come. Every generation since has suffered wars and disease and lamentable tragedies of its own kind, and some have said, this is it, this is the end… but, look around, here we are. It wasn’t the end after all.

The apostle Paul and Jesus (according to the gospel) said these are just the birth pangs. Birth pangs, not death throes. New life is coming.

“The universe is bending,” is a song from our new UCC book, “Sing!” The universe is bending toward justice, toward peace, toward righteousness. It may not look like it from one particular point in history, but from a God’s eye view, the whole span of history must arc like a rainbow. From creation, to conflict, to new creation, that is our story in a nutshell. God creates a world and declares it good. Then bad things happen. Evil triumphs over good, for a time. The righteous seem to be forsaken, for a time. The innocent suffer and the wicked thrive, for a time, but these are just the birth pangs. For eventually, we are promised, a new heaven, and a new earth, on this earth. And God will be with us and be our God. No one will have to say to another, “know the Lord.” For God will live right here with us, and wipe away every tear from our eye.

And in the meantime, we live in hope, we live in the hope of those who know that the victory is won, though violence persists. We are healed, though relapse may come. These are but the birth pangs. New life is begun. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Hope, well-spent

Jesus went to Jerusalem for the Passover. He was there with the festival crowd. He made his entry into the city a demonstration, a mock-triumphal entry. As the Roman governor came into the city from Caesarea, mounted on a war-horse and accompanied by soldiers bearing swords and shields—a display intended to shock and awe the citizens of Jerusalem, and squelch any thought of rebellion—at the same time Jesus was coming in from the opposite direction, mounted on a donkey, and accompanied by peasants and children waving palm branches.
The next day Jesus went to the temple and overturned the tables of the currency exchange and the vendors of sacrificial animals. The authorities, both religious and civic, would have arrested him then, but the crowds were with him, and they did not want to risk the embarrassment of a riot while the Roman governor was in town.
The presence of the crowd protected Jesus the next day as well. And it is on this day that Jesus was sitting opposite the treasury and watching the people come and go.

Beware of the scribes, he said. Be aware. They may look devout, they may sound devout, but watch what they do. They devour widows’ houses.
And then, as if to illustrate the point, here comes the widow, putting her little all into the temple treasury.

Perhaps she was emulating the widow of Zarephath, who gave all she had, or all she thought she had, to the man of God, Elijah. Once the widow of the temple gave up all she had to live on, what happened next? Did she go away to die? Or, did she find, upon retuning to her home, a jar of wheat and a vial of oil that would never fail? Or perhaps she found a different kind of miracle. Perhaps she was taken into a neighbor’s home, and cared for, as one of God’s children.

I like to think that she was, because that is who God is, according to the Psalm, “the Lord upholds the orphan and widow.”
Happy are those who hope in God. The psalms arose from the hard-earned wisdom of crushed hope, from the days of exile, when trust in princes proved foolish. The people of Israel learned that hope in their princes was wasted. But hope in God—hope in God is hope well-spent.

You Are Surrounded: A Sermon for All Saints Day

When I was a little girl, about 4 years old, my parents left my brother and sister and me in the care of some friends of the family, and flew to the Bahamas for a “business convention.” I was so thrilled at the idea of flying through the clouds, I didn’t waste any time being mad at them for leaving. Until after they were gone. I was really excited to have them come home and tell me what heaven looked like. Because I knew that it was up there in the clouds, where baby angels bounced on cloud beds and never got yelled at for it, where older angels played harps and sang, and where everyone was happy in the company of God.
I don’t know where exactly I got that idea of heaven… books or movies or television or Sunday school. It was a firm image, developmentally appropriate for a four-year-old, but too fixed to last.
Some people seem to think that because I am a religious professional, I should know just exactly what happens after death. As if some secret knowledge were conferred on me at my ordination. But I don’t know. Nobody knows for sure. Yes, I have studied scripture front to back and sideways, but I still don’t know, not with the certitude of a four-year-old. And that too is developmentally appropriate. Because as we grow older and (ideally) wiser, we realize that the universe is infinite mystery. The more we know, the more we know we don’t know nothing!
But I can tell you, that I don’t worry about not knowing. Because the witness of scripture is that whatever happens next, it is good. It is rest from our labors. It is reunion with God and with all that we have lost. It is peace.
And I certainly don’t worry about hell. Because I don’t believe in it. I believe that in every person is the capacity to love, and that love is eternal. Love is the main thing, love is the kernel of the wheat, and the rest is like the chaff that the wind drives away. I think the apostle Paul put it best in the 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians: everything will pass away, except love.

Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end.
…For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

Love is eternal. The songwriting team of Lennon & McCartney summed it up perfectly when they wrote: “And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love (pause) you make.”
The early church had the expression “the communion of saints,” which became a part of one of the earliest creeds. The communion of saints describes the experience of the living “sensing” the presence of the dead. They sensed this presence most distinctly--it is described in the book of Hebrews as a great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us and cheers us on. It is a sense that the difference between the living and the dead is an illusory difference, that if we could see with the eyes of God, we would see that we are all, in life and in death, God’s children, fiercely loved.
And the church spoke of that presence in the great thanksgiving, the prayer that preceded the meal which they shared whenever they came together, the meal that we call Holy Communion. “Communion” is not descriptive of the bread and the wine, communion is not descriptive of the meal itself, but of the spiritual experience of being around this table with the living and the dead, with Christ, and with God. We commune, we live together. “And so we join, with all the saints, in giving praise to you.”
This experience became profoundly real to me after my parents and my sister died. As I was sitting during communion one Sunday, while others were distributing the trays of bread and the little cups, suddenly, I heard my sister giggle, and my mother shush her, and my father, I just felt him beside me. It was a memory, but it was more than that. It comforted me. That is my experience of the communion of saints.
As we share this meal today, we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, who are with us in these photographs and mementos. With the help of these concrete reminders, I hope we will all be able to sense that presence, to hear those cheers, and to receive comfort in the assurance that we all live together, in the presence of God, whether alive or dead, we abide in God’s presence.
As we meditate upon these words, I invite you to write the name of someone you love, whom you wish to remember today, on that scrap of paper in your bulletin. I will ask the ushers to collect them up, and I will read the names aloud as we pray, as we commune with them today.

For All the Saints, Who From their Labors Rest

November 1st, All Saints Day, will be a day to remember those who have died. Jan Kurtz and Jackie Froemming will assist us in our worship as we interpret the custom of Dia de los Muertos (literally, “day of the dead”). You are invited to bring along to worship that day a photo, or an object of remembrance, representing someone you love who has died. It will be added to a display that will be created around the communion table as worship begins.
An object of remembrance can be something of sentimental value, like the fishing lure your grandpa gave you, or symbolic, like a soup ladle (but not necessarily her soup ladle) of an aunt who always had something cooking. It could even be something humorous, like a toy squirrel representing the rodent that vexed even a saintly gardener so much!
We will also have an opportunity, at Adult Forum the same day, to talk with others about how our loving relationships continue, even beyond the grave.
A few years ago, after Alice Jarvis died suddenly, her husband John signed all the thank you notes which he wrote to those who came to her funeral, “Love, John and Alice.” He continued to sign correspondence in that way, months after Alice had died. I was concerned. I shared my concern with my husband, who said, sympathetically, “Just because she has died doesn’t mean the relationship is over.” It was one of those “ah-ha” moments for me.
“For love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave,” according to the Song of Solomon (8:6). This is wisdom born of centuries of experience. Love is not deceived by death. Love recognizes that the separation between the living and the dead is transitory, and ultimately, of little consequence. The love that we share in this life continues to nurture us, even when our beloved has died.
So the first of November will be a celebration of love, and life, and a day to remember the promises of God.

How do you know about God?

My friend Dan sent me a good question:

I’ve been very peaceful with my theology for some time. I start with the basic foundation that there is a God and that God loves us. Everything else grows from that premise. Everything must fit with the concept of a loving God.

So what’s the problem? It occurred to me a few days ago that the energy that I experience and what I call God could be the ‘collective unconscious’ of humanity. What if ‘God’ isn’t a conscious being or deity, but, rather the great cloud of ‘us.’ I’d rather believe that God is a benevolent entity, but how do I know? I won’t believe something just because someone said it’s so. I have to experience it for myself and it has to make sense to me. I thought I’d done that, but maybe not.

So… tell me… how do you come to believe that God exists? How do you know God is God and not just our higher selves?

My Answer:

I don’t know. And for me, that’s not a problem, it is as it should be. Not knowing is a prerequisite for faith. Or, rather, knowing that I don’t know, having the humility to know that I don’t know, is the prerequisite for faith.

There are a lot of the collected scriptures that teach us that when we think we know God, we had better watch out: God is going to surprise us. Like the bit from the book of Job that we will read in church on Sunday. Everybody in that story thinks they know God. Job’s friends think they know God. They consider all that Job has lost—all his children have died, all his wealth has been looted, and he is has become a sick, sad man—and they say to him, “Oh, man, you must have really messed up. Job, what have you done to made God so mad?” That’s a paraphrase, naturally.

Job thinks he knows God too, and he thinks that he has been treated unjustly. But when God finally speaks out of the whirlwind, God puts everybody in their place, saying, “You think you know me? You don’t know nothin’!” That’s a paraphrase too.

The fact that scriptures were written by people, who were doing their best to understand the unknowable, that in itself is an aid in interpretation. For thousands of years people have tried to understand God, and have told stories and written poems and songs to pass on to others the idea of God. Taken as a whole, the Bible, the Koran, the collected scriptures of the world's religions are perspectives on this mysterious concept of that presence that we sense, that in which we live and move and have our being, that breath that stirred the waters of the deep, that breath of life which is our beginning and our end.

So what if God is our “collective unconscious?” So what if God is the web of being that connects us to every living thing? So what if God is “our higher selves?” Those are all good metaphors. Metaphors are, by nature, both true and untrue. “A mighty fortress is our God,” is true and untrue. The experience of God can be like hunkering down in the castle keep during a battle, but not always. Sometimes God is an eagle that lifts us up out of danger. Sometimes God is a mother and I am a hungry infant, sometimes God is a shepherd and I am a lost sheep. Sometimes God is Ad-Aware and I am the hard-drive burdened with spy-ware and trojans—there’s an image too new for scripture, one which is probably already out of date.

I trust that God is. I believe that I will never know God perfectly, but that God is a worthy pursuit. What I have come to believe about God is that God is love, or the ability to love, or the quality that is love, that life-creating power. I believe that God smiles upon fairness, justice, mercy, kindness, whatever is good and pure and life-giving. I think God gets really pissed off at greed, and war, and waste, and meanness.

I believe that people live abundant life when we are part of the love of God. And I believe people are diminished when we fail to be loving. And I believe that whether people succeed or fail to love, as long as we live, we are undeniably connected to God, and in that connection is the potential for redemption, salvation, new life.

And I believe that we may continue in that relationship with God even when we cease to be, even in death, and afterwards. But I don’t know. And that is as it should be, for now.

Looking Out for Number One

Imagine you could have everything. Where would you put it? That’s just one observation on the problem of wealth. And it is a problem, no question about it. There was this rich guy once who ran up to Jesus, and asked him, “What must I do?”
And Jesus said the same thing every good Rabbi says, “You know the commandments? Don’t murder, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, etc….”
“Yes, yes!” the guy says, “I have kept these commandments since I was a boy!”
By this time, we’re picking up a sense of desperation. If he knows the commandments, and he keeps them, why is this guy running after Jesus? I mean, what more can he do?
So Jesus, looking at him and loving him—maybe because he too is sensing the anxiety that this man carries with him—said, “OK, here’s one more thing you can do. Sell all you have, give to the poor, and come, follow me.” And the man went away grieving, because he had many possessions.
Now, most of the time, I feel pretty smug about this rich man, because I know I am not him. I am not a man, and I am not rich by local standards. My car is old. I don’t even own my own mortgage. I buy store brands. I get some stuff at the secondhand store. This laptop computer I’m writing on has Windows XP! It’s like, four years old!
But the truth is, I have so much stuff I can’t walk a straight line across my basement. It’s full of possessions for which I have no immediate need. I thought about having a garage sale this summer, but the other people with whom I share this stuff, they vetoed the idea.
And I am haunted by a story I heard from Brian Sirchio, who goes to Haiti every now and then to get some perspective. He was working for the Sisters of Charity, being a barber because that’s what they needed him to be that day. As he was cutting a man’s hair they got to talking about the rich and the poor, and Brian asked him, “Do you think I’m rich?
“I don’t know you well enough to say,” the man replied. “Tell me, how many times a week do you eat?”
“Come again?"
“I mean, do you eat every day? Because if you eat food every day, you are rich.”
So. That changes my whole perspective on this grieving rich man who had a problem with possessions.
Now, the wealthy church tradition emphasizes the part of the text that assures us that with God, all things are possible. And the wealthy Protestant evangelist will rationalize that the man’s problem wasn’t his wealth but his lack of faith in Jesus—you see, the man was trying to be saved by his works.
But that is just too easy. I think we need to let this text keep us on edge. We need this text when we are tempted to believe that what Jesus wants most for us is to win the lottery. We need this text to remind us that Jesus did not say to the man, “Put a tenth of your gross income in the offering plate and don’t worry so much!”
Wealth, which is commonly viewed as a sign of God’s blessing by those who follow the prosperity gospel, is not so much a blessing as a burdensome temptation. It is the golden calf. Money provides the “daily bread” for which we pray, but money is also the thing which most threatens to replace God as our Lord and master.
The very first commandment: I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods before me. Perhaps Jesus demonstrated that the man had not, as he claimed, followed all the commandments since his youth. He should have been looking out for Number One.

--Thoughts for Sunday, October 11.

The Jesus Ethic

"Is it lawful..." began the question. "Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?"
It was a trick question. They already knew the answer. Which is why Jesus answered their question with a question, "What did Moses say about it?"
Yes. It is lawful.
But wait, there's more.
According to the law (see Deut 24:1), a man could divorce his wife if he found something objectionable about her. There is no elaboration on what sort of objectionable feature-- presumably if she burns the bread or talks back, or rolls her eyes at him in an objectionable way, a man could write up a bill of divorce and throw her out. There would be no division of assets, no custody disputes (the children remain the property of the father). There is no provision at all, in the law of Moses, for a wife to divorce her husband, and in fact, if the man makes false charges against a woman, he may not divorce her ever. Apparently, it did not occur to Moses that the woman might not wish to remain the wife of a man who would be so cruel. In the whole of the law, women and children are about equal with cattle.
The Jesus ethic is not about what is lawful. Jesus criticises the law as something created by Moses to accommodate men's hardness of heart.
Jesus would not ask "is it lawful?" Jesus would have us ask "Is it compassionate?"
Is is compassionate for a man to throw his wife out of the house with nothing but a certificate of divorce?
In the past, this gospel reading was excised from the context of the gospel and used as a mallet to beat on people who divorce and remarry. I suppose in some churches it is still used that way. But I don't think Jesus was about replacing the law of Moses with an even stricter legalism.
Consider the object lesson that follows this discussion.
They (and would they, perhaps, be women?) were bringing children (children being a little lower on the scale of humanity than women) to Jesus that he might bless them. The disciples "spoke sternly" to them, shooed them away. But when Jesus saw this he was indignant, and said "Let the children come!"
And he enfolded them in his arms and blessed them.
The last and the least of these, he blessed them.
"What would Jesus do?" is sometimes an inadequate question. How can we know what Jesus would do with our complex, urban, industrial, information-age quandries?
"What is lawful?" is also an inadequate question, as Jesus demonstrated. The law is of human origin, and therefore, always skewed to someone's benefit.
"What is compassionate?" Now there is a good question. "What is the most compassionate, loving way to respond to the benefit of the last and the least of God's children?" That, I believe, is the Jesus ethic.

for Sunday, October 4, 2009

Hold your tongue!

Look at ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits. How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire!
James 3:4-5

We all make mistakes, "James" wrote. In speaking, in writing, in communicating we all make mistakes. Not many of you should be teachers, because teachers will be judged with a greater strictness, and we all make many mistakes in speaking. People who don't make mistakes in speaking, they must be perfect! Because if you can control your urge to speak (when you don't know what you are talking about, but you don't realize that you don't know what you are talking about), well, then you must be perfect.
The hardest thing about being a preacher: You have to speak. At least once a week, for 10 minutes or so, you have to have something to say, even if you know you don't know what you are talking about. The greatest temptation is to use the sermon to show people how clever is their pastor. That is always a mistake, for, when I try to be clever I am most likely to reveal myself as a fool, and not a "fool for Christ" either, just a damned fool.
As a child, for a long time I refused to speak. That was probably a good instinct. I was the youngest in the home and in the neighborhood, and I learned that when I spoke, people laughed. It offended me. So I kept my words to myself.
Perhaps we should all be so careful.
There are a lot of people who really ought to measure their words more carefully, mete them out as if they were nearing the end of their lifetime supply. Most of these people work for a certain television network.
Let there be more peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Amen.

For August 30, 2009

In the sight of God, pure, unadulterated religion is this: to seek out and care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself untainted by the world. (James 1:27, my translation)

One constant conversation that is going on throughout scripture, in both the Hebrew scriptures which we call our "old" testament, and in the Christian scriptures which we call "new," is, how can we be sure that our religion is the true, genuine article, and not just some human invention? One school of thought is that as a people of a faith, we must safeguard ourselves from others. That is where the "holiness code" weighs in. The dietary laws, the laws pertaining to personal appearance (what not to wear, how not to wear your hair or trim your beard), the instructions on how to number the days and celebrate festivals-- these are all about how "we" are distinguished from "them."
The warnings given voice in the stories of conquest-- do not leave any survivors, do not intermarry-- this is the extreme, violent end of the spectrum of the biblical conversation. The stories of Ruth and of Jonah are meant to contradict the xenophobia of the conquest narratives. One is the story of a foreign woman who gives rise to the kingdom of David; the other a testimony that God's love and mercy extends even to the non-Hebrew city of Nineveh.
The gospels tell us that Jesus was criticized for being irreligious. He ate with defiled hands (defiled, meaning not ritually cleansed before the meal). "So, you are supposed to be this great rabbi, and you don't even follow the rules? How come?"
Jesus responded by quoting another part of the scriptures, the book of the prophet Isaiah, who said,

This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.

You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.
The gospel of Matthew puts it even more plainly. In a series of curses, Jesus says,

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint, dill, and cumin [the herbs from the garden, not very valuable], and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others. (Matt. 23:23)

Even so, after the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus, the early Christian leaders struggled to define their faith, when people who were not Jewish like them came to them to be baptized. Some thought these people ought to become Jewish first, obey the customs of the Jewish people, and be circumcised. That was the first Christian identity crisis. It was resolved in favor of inclusion. "What God has made clean, you must not call profane," is the message that Peter heard in a vision, and later told to the other apostles, adding "who was I that I should hinder God?" (Acts 11:17)
As it has through the ages, the question arises, even now. How do we know that our religion is the the religion? Some people respond by drawing boundaries between "us" and "them," establishing rules about who is in and who is out. The rules rarely have anything to do with the heart of the faith.
James' answer: it's not about what you wear. It's not about the words you use when you pray. Here is what genuine religion looks like, to God: go and search for orphans and the widows, and attend to them in their distress.
Your actions speak louder than your words. As he wrote elsewhere, what good is it if you talk the talk, if you say to someone who is naked and hungry, "God bless you, stay warm and eat well," and do not lift a finger to help them! No good at all!
As for that second phrase, "to keep oneself untainted by the world," well, I think by "the world" the author means the culture, the society, which is all about appearances. You are what you pretend to be in this world. Don't let the world color you phony.

For August 9, 2009

We Are Members of One Another

Jean Baptiste Lacordaire, 19th century:
We are leaves of one branch, the drops of one sea, the flowers of one garden.

Ephesians 4:25-5:2
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another.
Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil.
Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy.
Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.
And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption.
Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.
Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

For Sunday, July 19, 2009

"A Dwelling Place for God"
Once upon a time, when David was king, he was talking with Nathan, the man of God, about building a house to replace the tent in which (so it was thought) God was currently residing. Nathan agreed that it was a solid idea.
But it turns out, God was offended by the idea. God never asked for a house, and God certainly didn't need David to build him a house, as if God were one of David's wives. God was not going to be "kept" by David.
David's mistake was thinking that God was somehow limited to the tabernacle (the God-tent), that God's presence could be carried around in the ark of the covenant (the God-box). But it was a common mistake, one that the people in the biblical stories make again and again. It's written that way because that's the way people are-- we constantly need reminding, that God does not live in a box. Or a Tent, or on a Mountain, or in a Temple or in a City... though God can be experienced in any or all of these places.
We forget, that God is not limited to our side of the border. That we cannot claim to have God on our side, because God is not going to put up with that kind of talk. As if we were God's keepers.
Paul, in his letter to the church folk in Ephesus, reminisced about how he used to think of Ephesians as foreigners, aliens, nobodies. But he no longer thought of them that way. "You are no longer strangers," he wrote. Once he would have thought of them as filth, but he wrote to them to remind them that they were "a dwelling place for God." And God's presence is not filth.
We worship in special buildings we call "churches" or "temples" or "congregations" or "sanctuaries." Sometimes people refer to their church as "God's house." I remember my mother scolding me for kicking the pew in front of me when I was particularly bored, she said something about it not being polite to kick the furniture when you are a guest in someone's house. I laughed, derisively as only a 6-year-old can, and said, "but this isn't anybody's house!"
"Yes it is," she replied, solemnly. "This is Gawd's house and that is Gawd's furniture."
I was, naturally, horrified. I haven't kicked a pew since (not on purpose anyway). I can not commend my mother's parenting style, but it did have the desired immediate effect.
We call it "God's house" (and perhaps even "God's furniture") to signify our respect for the place, and for the purpose to which it is dedicated, but, let's make this perfectly clear: God is not kept in any kind of box, not a wood-frame church in the vale, not a cathedral, crystal or otherwise.
In fact, God is so beyond any of our boxes.
God is so beyond the limits of language that anything we say about God is inadequate, and inaccurate. Including this.

For Sunday, July 12: The Death of the Mentor

Mark 6:14-29

King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, ‘John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.’ But others said, ‘It is Elijah.’ And others said, ‘It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.’ But when Herod heard of it, he said, ‘John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.’

It is a classic theme in biblical literature, and it is a universal theme: The death of the mentor, the master, the teacher, becomes the crucible in which the hero is refined by fire. Moses ascends to the mountaintop and does not return, Joshua leads the Hebrew people to the promised land. Elijah is carried to heaven in the firey chariot, Elisha takes up his mantle. Master Po is killed by the emperor's nephew, Kwai Chang Caine wanders the American West, defending the defenceless. Obi Wan Kenobi is killed by Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker saves the princess.

The relationship between John the baptizer and Jesus may have been that of teacher and student, master and apprentice, leader and follower. The gospel accounts concur that John emerged first on the public scene, that people went to John to hear what he had to say, that John's disciples participated in a ritual cleansing in the Jordan river, and that Jesus also participated in this ritual. If Jesus was baptized by John, was Jesus a disciple of John? Probably so, but if we trace how the gospel accounts differ, we can see how the interpretation of this relationship changed as time went on.

Mark, the earliest gospel, begins with a description of John the baptizer, who proclaims "the one who is more powerful than I is coming," but John does not directly identify Jesus as "the one." Mark simply states that Jesus "was baptized by John in the Jordan." The gospel of Luke suggests that John and Jesus recognized each other while they were still babies in their mother's wombs, that the elder (John) leaped for joy at the prenatal presence of the younger. The gospel of Matthew asserts that John realized immediately that he should be subservient to Jesus, and further asserts that Jesus humbly allowed himself to be baptized by John, "to fulfill all righteousness." And yet, in both Matthew and Luke, John's early confidence in Jesus seems to have waned when John sends his disciples to ask Jesus, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" (Matt 11:3, Luke 7:19).

By the time the gospel according to John was assembled, the tradition clearly had elevated Jesus above John (and everyone else), Jesus being pre-existent and omniscient. John is granted a dose of paranormal perception, it seems, when he shouts, "behold the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!" And look carefully at this gospel, is there any mention of Jesus being baptized at all, by anyone? No, there is not. John testifies that he saw the spirit descend upon Jesus, and that is how John knows that Jesus is the Son of God. But any claim to John baptizing Jesus is conspicuously absent. What the author leaves out of the story is as important as what the author adds to the story.

So, though later tradition clearly disagrees, I believe the earliest Jesus traditions indicate that John the baptizer was a mentor to Jesus, that Jesus was a disciple of John. If this is so, then the arrest and later the death of John the baptizer may have been the event that led Jesus to begin his own public ministry. He picked up Elijah's mantle.

For Sunday, July 5, 2009

Scripture:
Ezekiel 2:1-5

He said to me: O mortal, stand up on your feet, and I will speak with you. And when he spoke to me, a spirit entered into me and set me on my feet; and I heard him speaking to me. He said to me, Mortal, I am sending you to the people of Israel, to a nation of rebels who have rebelled against me; they and their ancestors have transgressed against me to this very day. The descendants are impudent and stubborn. I am sending you to them, and you shall say to them, "Thus says the Lord GOD." Whether they hear or refuse to hear (for they are a rebellious house), they shall know that there has been a prophet among them.

Psalm 123
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
Mark 6:1-13

"Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house."
He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, "Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them."
So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

Sermon Title: It's the Journey

"Whether they hear or refuse to hear, they shall know that there has been a prophet among them." It was General Synod, meeting in Columbus, Ohio, in 1997. I was a delegate assigned to a committee to consider a resolution calling for the closure of the US military base on Okinawa. We heard testimony from representatives from the civilian community on Okinawa, about the abuses of power and criminal activity of men stationed on the base. They were asking for our support.
One of the arguments against the resolution was that it would not make any difference what the General Synod of the United Church of Christ resolved, there was little or no chance of the US giving up that military base.
The morning before the resolution was presented to the plenary session, I read this scripture from Ezekiel: "Whether they hear, or refuse to hear, they shall know that there has been a prophet among them."
The prophetic church is called to proclaim God's reign of peace. We are called to speak up for the least and last of God's children, and demand justice. Whether the powers that be hear, or refuse to hear, we are called to prophesy.
Outcomes, or likely outcomes, don't matter. God is asking us to be faithful. It's not the destination that counts so much as the journey. If we walk, step by step, in love, showing mercy, loving kindness, then we will know that we have been faithful, and eventually, the world will know that there has been a prophetic church in our nation, in our time.
The resolution passed.

Serendipity: The Upside of the Downturn

Necessity, they say (and why would they lie?) is the mother of invention, and she is the kind of mother who doesn’t put up with grousing. When her child whines “I’m so bored,” she responds, “Maybe that’s because you’re boring. Go find something to do!”

Perhaps the upside of the economic downturn is that it requires us all to use our imagination, and figure out how to amuse ourselves without expensive toys or fee-based leisure. If green fees are beyond our reach this summer, we may have to remember how to take a walk in the park without a ball and a club, and we may find out that it is even more relaxing that we imagined. Taking the children to the free beach instead of the water park, we might rediscover the wonder of sandcastles and snail shells. Serendipity is what that is called: an unexpected gift.

And here’s a thought: Sunday mornings, at church, an hour of live music and stand-up storytelling, absolutely free (donations accepted). Eat enough cookies at fellowship afterward, and you could call it lunch!

Shocking it may be to hear worship described as free entertainment (and by a pastor too!), but I offer this as pastoral care. The Sabbath is God’s free gift to us, not as a chore, but as a joy. Come for the free coffee, or come for the sage wisdom. Come for the company of friends, or come for the glory of God. Just come!

You may find here, much more than you expected. That’s serendipity.

For Sunday, June 21, 2009

Paradise Now
"See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!"
--II Corinthians 6:2
Come, take a walk in the gardens around the church, and you will see paradise, now. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, and you will draw in the lilac-scent of God's breath. Consider the bumbling path of the bee, drunk on nectar, deliriously content with life, and you will witness deep peace.
There was one stream of early Christian thought which rejected the material world, which viewed the earth as a deeply flawed creation of some lesser god. Marcionism, as it was called, was rejected as heresy in the third century, but unfortunately its ghost still haunts some philosophies of religion. The view that "life is hell"-- that would be Marcionism.
But Paul, writing to the church in Corinth, was not naive. "Now is the day of salvation," even if we continue to suffer illness, persecution, arrest, and trial. "Now is the day of salvation" even if we are dying.
As the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is grown in it to spring up, so God's salvation comes. We can see it, now. Look!

On Vacation

...until June 18.

For Sunday, May 24, 2009

Scriptures:
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
Psalm 1
1 John 5:9-13
John 17:6-19

In Acts, Peter draws straws to appoint a new apostle; Psalm 1, happy are those who meditate on God's word; 1 John, got life?; John the gospel, Jesus prays that we may all be one.

The Sunday Bulletin Service theme is Guided in Prayer; but I'm going to focus on the psalm with the beautiful image of trees beside the water.
But first, about the gospel of John: Sometimes I have to wonder if the author of the gospel of John was a bit "da-da." He put the strangest words in Jesus' mouth, words that none of the other gospel writers seem to remember. These particular words, quoted above, are addressed to God, as half of an overheard conversation. John is the modernist poet of the gospel writers. In poetry, literal accuracy is not the point, the primary task is to evoke an image or emotion. The creator of the Gospel according to John seems to have been more involved in conveying the feeling of what the Jesus experience was like; and according to John it must have been disorienting. Yet from this disorienting gospel the church has excised some singular verses, gospel soundbites. "That they may all be one," which is part of the emblem of the United Church of Christ, is just one example.
It is the psalm appointed for Sunday that I find most inspiring, with the contrasting imagery of a tree planted by water and chaff that the wind drives away.

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked,
or take the path that sinners tread,
or sit in the seat of scoffers;
but their delight in in the law of God,
and on God's law they meditate day and night.
They are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season,
and their leaves do not wither.
In all they do they prosper.

Happy, like trees. The trees of spring are looking particularly happy this morning. Not as wind-blown as yesterday, and watered by an early morning shower, they do look fresh and strong and healthy. We should all be that happy.
According to a 2002 study conducted by researchers from the University of California at Berkeley, people who attend worship services once a week have significantly lower risks of death than those who attend less frequently or not at all. Even when adjusting for other risk factors, such as smoking or exercise, those who attend worship regularly were 21% less likely to die of circulatory diseases. The lead author of the study, Doug Oman surmises: "Maybe frequent addendees experience a greater sense of inner peace, perhaps they can draw upon religious coping practices to help them deal with stressful events."
Happy are those... who delight in the law of God, and on God's law meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water... and their leaves do not wither.
Good news.

For May 3, 2009

"Good Shepherd" Sunday
Scripture:
Acts 4:5-12
Psalm 23
1 John 3:16-24
John 10:11-18

Sunday Bulletin Theme: Enfolded by Love

Hymns: 277 "Holy, Holy, Holy" (because it's Joe Freeman's birthday this weekend and that's his favorite hymn); 252 "Savior, like a Shepherd Lead Us;" 348 "Jesus Is Here Right Now; " 342 "Be Known to Us in Breaking Bread"

The sermon theme will be from the 23rd psalm, "you have prepared for me a table."

For Sunday, April 26, 2009

Scriptures:
Acts 3:12-19
Psalm 4
1 John 3:1-7
Luke 24:36b-48

The white robes have arrived. I unpacked them this morning and hung them up in the coat room to work out the wrinkles and make them ready for Confirmation day on Sunday.
The purpose of the "faith formation" class (which they have been participating in for two years) is to prepare young adolescent children for the Rite of Confirmation. This is the day that we anticipate when we, as parents, bring our babies to the baptismal font and promise to offer "the nurture and support of the Christian church so that they may affirm their baptism." That affirmation of the promises made on their behalf, when they were infants, is central to the Rite of Confirmation. By their own free choice, they come to claim in our presence, their covenantal relationship with Christ and the members of the church.
I have known all five of the members of the confirmation class for a very long time; most of them I have known since they were in pre-school, one I have known all her life, and so I have shared a considerable part of their faith journey with them. It will give me great pleasure to introduce them to the congregation as full adult members of the church.
I will take as my sermon text an expanded reading of the Gospel appointed for Sunday, beginning with the story of two disciples, who met Jesus on their journey down the Emmaus road. When these two disciples return to Jerusalem to tell others about their experience, Jesus appears to them again and greets them with "Peace be with you." He ate with them, and opened their minds, and he gave them a purpose, and promised to clothe them "with power from on high."
Wherever we are on life's journey, whether just starting out, or well along the pathway, we have a common purpose, and a common promise, and a common blessing in the presence of Christ.

For Easter Sunday, April 12, 2009

Scripture:
Acts 10:34-43
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
Mark 16:1-8

"A funny thing happened on the way to the tomb" seems an irreverent title for an Easter sermon, so I will not use it this year, just as I have refrained from using it in years past. But it does seem apt, especially when the Easter story is told according to Mark. Mark ends the story with a great cliff-hanger, worthy of The Perils of Pauline or an episode of Alias. The tomb is empty, except for a stranger, oddly dressed, who tells the three women that Jesus is not at tomb, presently, but that he has been raised, and further, they should go and tell his disciples (and Peter) that he is going ahead of them to Galilee, and will meet them there.

So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to any one, for they were afraid.

And that is how the story ends.
Leaving the listener with the questions:
Is Jesus raised?
Will the women get the message to the disciples in time?
Will they see Jesus in Galilee?
Tune in next week....
We can logically assume that the women (Mary, and Mary, and Salome) must have recovered from their terror and amazement, and eventually must have told someone, otherwise, how could we be reading the story now, a few thousand years after the fact?
And when they recovered themselves, and drew up the courage to tell their story, might they have begun with... "Peter, a funny thing happened on the way to the tomb this morning."

For Thursday, April 9, 2009

Traditionally, Maundy Thursday is observed as the anniversary of Jesus' last supper with his disciples, and the institution of Holy Communion.

What did this meal of bread and wine signify to the first Christians? In Saving Paradise, authors Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker assert that it was a celebration of the presence of the living Christ. The scriptural models for the meal were the manna in the wilderness, the feeding of the multitude, and the Emmaus road encounter.

Writings from early church leaders and from the apostle Paul indicate that the “breaking of bread” was more than a bite-sized sample. The bread and the cup were shared in the context of a meal, which included the “fruits of paradise.”

This Thursday, we will celebrate Communion as a Feast of Paradise. It will not be a historical reenactment-- but an act of worship that seeks to be true to the spirit of the feast.

We will receive an offering, not of cash, but of bread, fruit, nuts, cheese, flowers for the table (but no meat)... bring your offering on a serving platter or basket. We will have a table for you to set it on just outside the sanctuary, where we will gather for the first part of the worship experience. After the sermon and prayers, we will have our offertory processional from the sanctuary to the fellowship hall. Pick up your offering on your way out of the sanctuary as we move to fellowship hall for part two-- the meal.

In fellowship hall, we will pray the Great Thanksgiving, break the bread, share the feast, and afterward lift the cup, and drink to the new covenant. Then there will be a prayer of thanksgiving after the meal, before a benediction.

For Palm Sunday, April 5, 2009

Scriptures:
Isaiah 50:4-9a "The Lord has given me the tongue of a teacher...."
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29 "Open to me the gates of righteousness...."
Philippians 2:5-11 Jesus did not exploit the power of God, but took the form of a servant.
Mark 11:1-11 The entry into Jerusalem.

Palm Sunday celebrates Jesus triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The story goes that the hoi polloi (the common people) shouted the greeting reserved for the heir to King David's throne:

Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!

It was a political statement-- a calculated demonstration of resistance against the power of Rome, its governor and occupying forces, and its vasal king.

For Sunday, March 29

Scriptures:
Jeremiah 31:31-34 They shall all know me...
Psalm 51:1-12 Create in me a clean heart...
Hebrews 5:5-10 Christ the high priest
John 12:20-33 Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies....

Sunday Bulletin Service Theme: Deep in Our Hearts

In the bulb, there is a flower, in the seed, an apple tree,
In cocoons, a hidden promise-- butterflies will soon be free.
(Natalie Sleeth, Hymn of Promise)

"Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." (Jesus, according to John)

Now that most of the snow has melted into the earth-- though, as I write, fresh snow is expected-- I have been out to inspect the garden beds, where even now little spears of green are poking up through the masses of dead leaves. The hosta, the chives, the iris are the early risers. Evergreen thyme and pinks persevered through the winter. The rose canes sport tiny, promising buds. The earth reminds us that the cycle of death and rebirth is the natural order of things. Why should it be any other way with us?

In our end is our beginning, in our time, infinity;
in our doubt, there is believing, in our life, eternity.
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
(Natalie Sleeth, Hymn of Promise)

For March 22, 2009

Scriptures
Numbers 21:4-9 (Snakes! And a sign to heal by.)
Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22 (Some were sick... and God saved them.)
Ephesians 2:1-10 (Created for good.)
John 3:14-21 (For God so Loved the world....)

Sunday Bulletin Series Theme "No Matter What"

Sermon Title: The Way of Healing

We have been looking at the covenant stories of scripture through the lens of the 25th psalm, "teach me your paths, O Lord, make me to know your ways." I invite you to imagine the covenant stories as examples of ways that are paved, and paths cleared, for us to be united with God.
The readings from the Hebrew scriptures, during this season of Lent, have been following God's covenants with Noah and all creation, with Abraham and Sarah and their descendants, with Moses and the people God brought out of Egypt. Next Sunday we will read of a new covenant promised through the prophet Jeremiah. But this Sunday, we have snakes.
I don't like snakes.
It's nothing personal, I know they are a vital part of the ecosystem, the web of life, and all that. They are just so sneaky. They appear unexpectedly, taking a person by surprise, causing her to shriek and leap away and twist her ankle upon landing.
Anyway, the story goes that God sent the snakes to bite the people because they were whining.
I don't believe that part.
No parent, however frustrated with the whining in the back seat while the family drives down the highway, would ever respond by throwing a snake over the divider between the seats. Well, no good parent anyway.
So that is one view of God that I don't think we should pass on to future generations.
But the truth of the story is in the crying out, and in the healing.
They cried out to God, and just as God heard their cries in Egypt, God heard their cries again, and in the assurance of God's presence, they experienced healing.

Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress;
he sent out his word and healed them, and delivered them from destruction.
-- Psalm 107

To whom do you cry out, in fever or pain?
How have you experienced healing?
How can the ministry of healing be a pathway to union with God?

For Sunday, March 15, 2009

Exodus 20:1-17 (The 10 Commandments.)
Psalm 19 (The heavens are telling the glory of God.)
1 Corinthians 1:18-25 (God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom.)
John 2:13-22 (Jesus clears the temple.)

Sunday Bulletin Service Theme: Beautiful Law.

Sermon: The Way of Obedience.

Inspired by Psalm 25, the sermons for this season of lent will focus on the "ways" of God, with an emphasis on the plural. In the long history of God's relationship with us, God is always making a way for us toward union with God. The covenant stories of our scriptures can be viewed as examples of these pathways to God.
The way of obedience is one way. The law was given to the people so that it would go well for them, it was given as a gift, not as a burden.

For Sunday, March 8, 2009

Scripture:
Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16 (Abram and Sarai get new names.)
Psalm 22:23-31 (A plea for deliverance turns into a song of praise.)
Romans 4:13-25 (Abe's faith is reckoned as righteousness.)
Mark 8:31-38 (If any want to become my followers....)

Sunday Bulletin Service Theme: "Always Close"

Hymns: #24 The God of Abraham Praise; #438 When Peace Like a River; #75 Lord, Make Me More Holy.

Sermon Title: The Way of Trust

The Psalm for the first Sunday of Lent was 25, the fourth verse reads:

Make me to know your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths.

Note the plural, "ways" not way; "paths" not path. Our scriptures teach us that God has been making paths in the wilderness for us ever since we were made. Our experience teaches us too: how often I have spoken with someone who was able to look back and remember a time when God made a way out of no way. After losing the job that he thought would evolve into a lifetime career; after losing the husband with whom she thought she would grow old; after being forced out of a home they thought they would never leave... years, or sometimes just months later, he and she and they have said, "I see now that God was gently leading us, all along."

For March 1, 2009

Scripture:
Genesis 9:8-17 (Rainbow Covenant)
Psalm 25:1-10 (Teach me your paths, O God)
1 Peter 3:18-22 (saved through water)
Mark 1: 9-15 (into the wilderness)

Sunday Bulletin Service Theme: God's Loving Paths

I'm going with the rainbow covenant this Sunday. Rainbows, I would guess, have always had that mysterious ability to make us feel good. That sense of well being was interpreted by the tribes of the Hebrew people as an assurance of God's "truce." God's bow is hung on a hook in the sky, no longer are the arrows aimed at us. The rainbow is a reminder, to God, not to take anger to lethal levels ever again. And the rainbow is a reminder to us that God, though capable of lethal force, has chosen not to use it. The rainbow signifies God's unilateral disarmament.

Hymns for Sunday: #31 All Things Bright and Beautiful; #402 De Colores ("in the rainbow's bright colors, God's promise of hope we recall..."); #348 (for communion) Jesus is Here Right Now; and #476 My Life Goes on in Endless Song.

Prayers for Sunday:
Prayer of Confession (It is the season of Lent, after all.)
Leader: Holy One, you have given us the gift of life, and your covenant promises assure that your intentions for us are good. In every age, you send your Holy Spirit to guide us in the pathways of peace; but often we stray from the path, to our own destruction. And so we pray, lifting our voices together in the words written long ago.
People: Be mindful of your mercy, O God, and of your steadfast love, for they have been from of old. Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for your goodness' sake, O God.
Leader: Hear our prayers, we pray, and have mercy on us, and lead us back to the pathways of peace, where we might walk in steadfast love and faithfulness all the days of our lives.
People: Amen.

Prayer of Dedication
When we consider the depth and breadth and height of your mercy, O Lord God, when we consider the infinite nature of your steadfast love, what can we do, but rejoice, in awe? We stand in awe and humility, offering such gifts as we are able to give, asking for your blessing upon us, trusting that in our giving, as in our living, we belong to you. Thank you. Amen.

Lent as Spring Training

Major League Baseball’s spring training season has begun. In Fort Meyers, Florida players for the Minnesota Twins are running drills and playing catch and batting balls. Ash Wednesday coincides with the first spring training game day, and the regular season begins on Palm Sunday. Coincidence? Of course it is!
But it is a coincidence that offers us a useful metaphor for Lent. Lent is the spring training for the life of faith. As early as the third century of the Common Era, Lent was observed as a time to prepare new Christians for their baptism on Easter Sunday. The whole church community was involved in the training of new Christians, which Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker describe in their book Saving Paradise:

“It was akin to applying for, attending, and graduating from college while also training for an Olympic team sport and undergoing group therapy.”

Church membership was not taken lightly. During the years of Roman persecution, Christians were burned at the stake for “atheism” (because they refused to worship the emperor), so the church out of necessity had to protect the identity of its members, and prepare aspiring members for the rigors of life within a persecuted church. People had to apply for membership, appear before the bishop with their sponsors, who could attest to their sincerity and character. If they were accepted as candidates for baptism, weeks of training followed. There was a physical as well as a spiritual and intellectual component to the training, the disciplines of prayer and study were entwined with the discipline of self-restraint. Thus began the Lenten fast.
Life in the church today is comparatively easy, so I would imagine that those saints of old would consider us pretty soft, our spiritual muscles flabby and underused. Though we don’t have to stand up to torturous inquisition, or run from lions, or the law, or torch-wielding mobs, we could do with some training up for the challenges that our life, in our age, brings us.
Lent is a good time to resume faith practices that have fallen by the wayside, or take up faith practices which we have not tried. Keep in mind that balance of body, mind and soul—body work might mean physical involvement in the mission of the church, serving up meals as the soup kitchen, wielding a hammer for Habitat for Humanity, knitting a prayer shawl. Mind work might mean reading along with one of our book groups, or coming to Adult Forum. Soul work could mean regular worship attendance. Try to come every Sunday in Lent. If you already come every Sunday, then add Wednesday evenings too.
Lent. It’s spring training for the life of faith.

Prayers for Sunday, February 22

Gathering Prayer

Holy one, like the birds that sing in the darkness before dawn, we sing your praise in anticipation of the light breaking forth from your Holy Word. As sure as the sun rises, your wisdom enlightens our eyes, to see the paradise which Jesus proclaimed as “at hand.” Let your light shine, O Lord! Amen.

Prayer of Dedication

When we contemplate the wideness of your mercy, O Lord, what else can we do but open our hands to others? As we present these gifts, we pray that the light of your glory may be reflected in our good works, that others may see and know that you are the source of light and life, and that together we might praise you with one voice. Amen.

For Sunday, February 22, 2009

Scripture:
2 Kings 2:1-12 Elijah is carried away in that sweet low-swinging chariot.
Psalm 50:1-6 "God shines."
2 Corinthians 4:3-6 "...the light of the knowledge of the glory of God..."
Mark 9:2-9 Jesus is transfigured, Moses and Elijah make an appearance.

Sunday Bulletin Service Theme: Sense of the Sacred.
Hymns: #8, Praise to the Living God; #502, Dear God Embracing Humankind; #182, We Have Come at Christ's Own Bidding.

This is Transfiguration Sunday, the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany, which begins with the revelation of the light to the gentiles, symbolized in the story of the astrologers who come from the east, guided by a star, to find the new born king (Matthew 2:1-12). The seasons ends with the light of the glory of God illuminating Jesus, revealing his son-ship to Peter, James and John, who were there by invitation.
Peter, James and John are singled out again, later in the gospel, after the passover meal, just before Jesus' arrest. Jesus went out to the garden of Gethsemane with Peter, James and John and asked them to keep awake while he prayed. But twice Jesus found them asleep, and caught sleeping a second time, "they did not know what to say." Which is what Mark writes about Peter in this story of the transfiguration, "he did not know what to say."
But not knowing what to say didn't stop Peter from speaking anyway. I suppose we have all made that mistake.
Some years ago, I saw a bumper sticker that read, "To know is to care, to care is to do: The United Church of Christ." We are a "doing" sort of a church.

"Don't just stand there, do something," could be the subtext of our mission statement.

But this gospel story challenges that busy-ness. Peter has the urge to say something, to do something, anything, to commemorate this event. And God says: "Shut up and listen."

"Don't just do something, stand there."

For Sunday, February 15

Scriptures:
2 Kings 5:1-14 Naaman the Syrian cleansed of leprosy, with Elisha's instructions.
Psalm 30 "You have turned my mourning into dancing"
1 Corinthians 9:24-27 Keep your eyes on the prize.
Mark 1:40-45 A man cleansed of leprosy, through Jesus' touch.

Sunday Bulletin Service Theme: Compassionate Community

For Sunday, February 8, 2009

Scriptures:
Isaiah 40:21-31 Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.
Psalm 147:1-11, 20c Praise the LORD!
1 Corinthians 9:16-23 I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.
Mark 1:29-39 In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.

On his CD Justice and Love, Bryan Sirchio sings,

"The greatest enemy of God's will for your life is all the good things others want you to do. You keep saying yes, 'til there's no time left to do what you're most truly called to do."

Jesus was having quite a sabbath day. He preached in the synogogue, cast a demon out of a man, healed Peter's mother-in-law of a fever, and at sundown healed all the sick people of the town who gathered around the door to see him. When at last he had a quiet moment, he went away to pray by himself; but people sought him out. When they found him, they said "Everyone is looking for you!" Between the lines... "why are you out here doing nothing when there is work to be done?"
Prayer may look like nothing. It may even feel like nothing. But prayer is an important practice, which helps us to discern our call. Jesus could have remained in Capernaum, built a house of his own, opened up a healing practice, married, had a few kids. But after prayer, he announced that it was time to move on, and proclaim the message in the neighboring towns, because that was the reason for his "coming out."
There are many ways to serve God. The difficulty isn't so much finding what to do; sometimes the challenge is figuring out what NOT to do-- or rather, what to leave to others, in order that we may focus on that which we can do best.
I invite you to pray for discernment, which is that wisdom of knowing the difference between that which cannot be changed, and that which must be changed (to paraphrase Reinhold Niebuhr's serenity prayer).

For Sunday, Februray 1, 2009

Scriptures:
Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Psalm 111
1 Corinthians 8:1-13
Mark 1:21-28

In summary, Moses promises that God will raise up a prophet like him; the psalm praises God and concludes that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom" (though, a better translation might be "awe of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom"); Paul wrote, "knowledge puffs up, love builds up" in response to the Corinthians' dietary conflict; Jesus in Capernaum teaches in the synagogue, commands a demon to come out of a man, amazes the congregation, and becomes famous.

Sunday Bulletin Service Theme: "Power to Do"

What is a Christian to do, when at a dinner party, when the entree has been ritually slaughtered in the worship of a pagan God? It's not a question I have had to grapple with, personally. Or have I?

Steve Patterson (New Testament professor at Eden Seminary, and author of Beyond the Passion, among other numerous other books and articles) taught me a few things about ritual sacrifice that clarify the context of this letter from Paul to the church in Corinth.

First of all, meat was a rare treat. Most people ate bread every day, but little else. Second, when an animal was butchered, it was always butchered as part of religious ritual. There was no such thing as a meat processing plant. The priests were the ones who did all the meat processing. Therefore, all the meat available to the first urban Christians in the Roman empire would have been ritually sacrificed.

Furthermore, the meat was distributed by the priests according to social status: The best cuts of the meat went to the priests themselves, then to the people of highest standing, and so on down the line until the feet and tail were given to the slaves.

So, to accept your allotment of the ritually sacrificed meat was to accept your place in the culture of the empire.

When we are baptized into Christ, we become equals. Neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male and female, as Paul wrote elsewhere. The Christian table was spread with bread and wine, which was shared by all. The shared meal was an experience of the "kingdom of God," a participation in God's paradise.

So how can a person share a meal in God's paradise one day, and accept a place in Caesar's Empire the next? If we eat the emperor's food, we accept it on the emperor's terms, and one of those terms is that we accept that some lives are more valuable than others.

When have I found myself seated, awkwardly, at empire's table? Every day. Every day some of God's children go hungry while I eat my fill. Every day some of my brothers and sisters wander without shelter, while I live in a fine house with central heating. Every day. How about you?