Noah and the Message from the Birds

After forty days Noah opened a window and sent out a raven. It did not come back, but kept flying around until the water was completely gone. Meanwhile, Noah sent out a dove to see if the water had gone down, but since the water still covered all the land, the dove did not find a place to light. It flew back to the boat, and Noah reached out and took it in. He waited another seven days and sent out the dove again. It returned to him in the evening with a fresh olive leaf in its beak. So Noah knew that the water had gone down. Then he waited another seven days and sent out the dove once more; this time it did not come back.

--Genesis 8:6-12 (TEV)

In the universal language of symbol, birds bring messages from the spirit world. Around the globe, across cultures and all along the time line, this is so. The eagle, the owl, the heron, the crane, the raven, the dove, all have been assigned spiritual attributes in various cultures. I remember an Anishinaabe elder explaining that when the loon makes that victorious yodeling call, it means a warrior has entered the spirit world.

In this old, old story of the flood and the ark, we have a tale of birds bearing a message from God. Four messages actually: 1. Wait. 2. Not yet. 3. Almost. 4. Now, it's going to be alright. In other versions of the story, God and Noah speak directly to each other, but in this version, the birds are the intermediaries. The birds carry the hope of humanity up to the heavens, and return with the gospel, the good news from the Great Spirit. Peace.

Even though we humans have almost forgotten the old language of the spirit, even though we have nearly forgotten how to read the signs of nature, because we have fixated on our own languages, as if we are the only sentient beings on the planet, even now, if we listen, we can hear it-- the spirit who speaks through the birds.

Listen to the brown pelican, in the gulf. It says, "I'm dying out here."

Listen to the loon on Gull Lake. It says, "These mercury levels are higher than they ever have been."

Listen to the passenger pigeon... oops, too late!

Remember how the story of Noah ends? God says, "I'm never going to destroy the earth again. Ever. That was a stupid idea and I will never do that again."

God has given us everything we need, and messengers to help us get it right. Do we listen?

Are We Following Jesus-- Or Just Believing in Christ?

Title credit goes to Bryan Sirchio, it's from the chorus of the song entitle "Follow Me (87 times).

Are We Following Jesus, or Just Believing in Christ

Because, I can believe and not change a thing,

but following could change my whole life.

Jesus never said, "Come, acknowledge my existence."

Or, "Believe in me, I'm the second person of the Trinity."

But 87 times, he said, "Follow Me."

Conscientious people, really thoughtful people, the kind of people you want to have in your church, are often the least ready to become members of the church. Not that that means all who are members have no conscience! Not at all! But usually when confirmands or prospective members are struggling with the decision of whether or not to stand up in church and declare their faith, it is because they dread hypocrisy most of all vices. No one wants to be a fraud.

If becoming a member of the church is about declaring one's own perfection in belief, with complete confidence, then there should be no members of the church at all, except maybe a few dead saints. But I don't think that's what it's about. I don't thing that has ever been the intention of church membership.

Maybe we shouldn't even use the word membership. It was a good word, once. It intended to mean that we are all members of one body, the ways arms and legs are members of our body, but we rarely use the word that way any more. More often we use it as a term of belonging to a social club. A member of the club remains a member in good standing so long as the dues are paid. That's not what we are talking about when we speak of membership in the church. Not at all.

Maybe a better word would be "followship" if there were such a word (but my spellchecker asserts there is not), and we are followers of Jesus. Maybe, we should call each other travelers, because we are signing on for a journey. Not a literal journey. Maybe pilgrim, if we could get the John Wayne accent out of our heads when we said it, "Pilgrim."

Whatever we call it, what we are about is following Jesus, to the best of our ability. We look to the stories of Jesus for guidance. We notice that for Jesus an ethic of compassion overrides an ethic of law, and so we seek to do likewise. We notice that Jesus healed the sick, fed the hungry, forgave sins, and so we seek to do likewise. We notice that Jesus prayed often, in silence, and with others in the congregations (that is what synagogue means, congregation), and so we seek to do likewise. We note that Jesus, even Jesus, learned from others, and so we seek to do likewise.

Like the first followers, we get it wrong once in a while. It isn't easy, this followship, but we are not left to follow all alone. We have this company of followers called the church, and when we walk together we help one another. Sometimes we carry, sometimes we are carried. Sometimes we feed, sometimes we are fed. Sometimes we lose sight of the goal, and others draw our attention back to the one who goes before us, Jesus. Jesus, the pioneer, Jesus the one who completes us.

And that is why we are here. That is the duty and delight of the follower of Jesus. We will walk together in all God's ways, made known and to be made known, by God's gracious Spirit, arm in arm, side by side, hand in hand. Let's walk.

Following Jesus: the Meaning of Membership

Here is another "Q & A" based on not one conversation in particular, but culled from many similar encounters.

What does it mean to "become a member" of the church? What do I have to say? What do I have to commit to? What if I don't believe everything you believe?

I think that if a person is ready to go on a journey of faith, then that person is ready to claim "membership" in the church. If you can say, "I have decided to follow Jesus," then I think you are ready to join the church.

I have decided to follow Jesus.

Following Jesus means serving others as Jesus served: feeding the hungry, healing the sick, bringing good news to the poor, keeping company with outcasts, loving everyone.

Following Jesus means doing as Jesus taught: forgiving others as we have been forgiven, giving generously to those in need, sharing our possessions, refusing to allow our possessions to own us.

Following Jesus means praying as Jesus prayed, every day, in private, and with others.

Following Jesus means listening to and learning from others, even those who we think have nothing to teach us.

Following Jesus means that we are always on a journey. There is always more to learn, more to pray, more to share, more to do, our whole lives long. Therefore, we walk humbly, knowing that we may never arrive at perfection, but ultimately trusting in God to complete us.

And so I propose this simple covenant become what we promise to each other when we receive new members into the church: We promise to walk together in all God's ways, made known to us through the life of Jesus, the witness of scripture, and the Holy Spirit which continues to reveal to us the height and depth and breadth of God's love.

Is Paul really all that?

This question came to me through our "Uncommon Lectionary" exercise:

Why is Paul's theology given such prominence as compared to the gospels? Shouldn't the experience of those who were with Jesus in his lifetime take prominence over Paul, who only knew Christ after the resurrection?

Which inspires me to ask a couple of questions in response: Is Paul's theology given prominence? And, do the gospels pre-date Paul?

The second question is an easier answer so I will address that first. When Eugene Wehrli taught Introduction to New Testament at Eden Seminary in 1987, he began with 1 Thessalonians, because that is, according to people smarter than me (and maybe even smarter than Dr. Wehrli), the earliest book in the New Testament. Dr. Wehrli organized the syllabus chronologically, so we began with the Pauline letters, then the gospel according to Mark, then Matthew, Luke-Acts, then I think we went to the pastoral epistles, the gospel of John, and the Revelation.

As far as we can tell, Paul died before the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. That seems to be the event that inspired the compilation of the gospels, from the oral tradition, the collective memory of Christians and perhaps from some written collections of the sayings of Jesus. Apparently, the first Christians were expecting Jesus' imminent return at the end of the age in their lifetimes. As they got older, they realized they might need to write something down if they wanted to share the stories of Jesus with future generations.

Is Paul's theology given prominence in the New Testament? Paul is pretty prominent, and his prominence is well-deserved. He built a global church (well, an empire-wide church anyway) without a written gospel to leave behind, without a leadership pipeline, without an army of administrators to aid him, without any support and with occasional hindrance from headquarters in Jerusalem. Take a look at how much of the New Testament is attributed to Paul. It's significant.

In church history, Paul's popularity waxes and wains, I suppose. Martin Luther was wild about Paul, so was John Calvin. John Wesley, not so much. Paul wrote some things I wish he hadn't, or I wish no one had bothered to preserve. He didn't set out to write the bible, remember. He had a bible already, it was the same bible that Jews read and study today in synagogues all over the world. Had he known that people would be reading out bits of his letters in worship 2000 years later, would he have written things differently? I like to think so. Who knows?

For all his faults, he gave us some pretty good material. "If I speak in the tongues of mortals and angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging symbol." That's good. "Now we see as in a mirror, dimly, then we will see face to face." That's brilliant. That's much more poetic than "love your neighbor as yourself," and "judge not, lest you be judged." Same thing, really, just said a different way.

So, does that answer your question?

You give them something to eat (2)

Mark 6:30-46
As preached on 6 June 2010

"You give them something to eat," Jesus said, when the disciples suggested that he say the benediction and send the crowds on their way. They did not have much, but what they had, they shared, and miraculously, it was more than enough. That's the story.
Let me set-up the scene for you: According to Mark, the apostles had just returned from their journeys-- Jesus had sent them out, two-by-two, to do all the things Jesus had been doing: they preached, they cast out demons, they anointed the sick with oil and cured them. Jesus proposed a vacation, so they got in a boat and sailed away to a quiet place on the other side of the lake. But, when they arrived, a crowd was there to meet them. Jesus had compassion for them, and began to teach them.
When it got late, the disciples, who still had not had anything to eat since they returned from their mission trips, thought it was time for Jesus to send the crowds away. And Jesus said, "You give them something to eat."
They were tired, they were hungry, and all they had were five pitas and a couple of fish.
Eventually, the disciples would get their rest, but right there, right then, there were hungry people in need of food. So rather than resting and reflecting, the disciples found themselves serving and clearing.
Here’s how the story might go today, in a modern retelling: People come here, drawn to this place for all the various reasons people were drawn to Jesus. Some seeking enlightenment, others healing, some are just hungry, and some simply have nothing better to do. Jesus says to us: you give them something to eat.
But we have nothing, we might say, nothing but a 125 year-old sanctuary (with loose roof shingles), a few hundred members, and a modest annual budget of… whatever it is. And Jesus says, bring it here. I’ll bless it. Now distribute it among everyone. And by the grace of God, it is enough to feed every soul present, and then some.
So what if the disciples had only 5 whole wheat pitas and a couple of herring. It was enough. So what if we only have what we have. We begin ministry with what we have. If we waste time worrying about what we haven’t, no one is fed; share what we have, and pretty soon everyone begins to share, and we find that we have enough and then some! It's a miracle.
You know, one explanation of this miracle story, from the "demythologizing" movement of the early 20th century, is that in the first century, no one would have traveled anywhere without a little lunch in their napsack. When the people saw the apostles sharing what they had, they were moved by example to share what was in their own sacks. Unexpected generosity is no less a miracle than the Sunday school interpretation.
Nobody travels through this life on empty. Everybody has some provisions. By the grace of God, we discover that (even if we though we were bereft) we have enough and more to share. It's a miracle. What happens when someone begins to share, is that the recipients of that generousity realize they have something to give too. Every Sunday, it's "stone soup."
Another way to interpret the miracle stories of Jesus is to think of them as parables. If the feeding of the five-thousand is heard as a parable as well as a miracle story, then, in addition to being a demonstration of God's creative power at work through Jesus, it is also a parable of God's "kingdom," God's reign, the world as God would have it. In God's world, everyone has enough and more, more to share with the poor.
According to Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Parker's book, Saving Paradise, early images of Jesus at table with his 12 disciples include a serving platter with five loaves and two fish, and no chalice. Early Christians celebrated the breaking of the bread, the last supper, in the context of the feeding of the 5000. What we call Holy Communion was not the sacrificial meal that it became in the second millennium. For the first thousand years of the church, this meal was an enactment of a parable, a reenactment of the miracle of the feeding of the 5000. It was an overture to the feast of paradise, which we could share with the living and the dead, who were already feasting at the head table with Christ in the paradise of God.
This is the joyful feast of the people of God. We are invited to this table to share in the miracle of God's abundance. See how the single loaf is divided among us all and yet is never completely consumed. We share and eat and drink to the day when sharing by all will mean that no one goes hungry. Hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church.

"You give them something to eat." (1)

Our Uncommon Lectionary reading for June 6 is Mark 6:30=46, the feeding of the 5000+.
"You give them something to eat," Jesus said, when the disciples suggested that he say the benediction and send the crowds on their way. They did not have much, but what they had, they shared, and miraculously, it was more than enough.
Let me set-up the scene for you: According to Mark, the apostles had just returned from their journeys-- Jesus had sent them out, two-by-two, to do all the things Jesus had been doing: they preached, they cast out demons, they anointed the sick with oil and cured them. Jesus proposed a vacation, so they got in a boat and sailed away to a quiet place on the other side of the lake. But, when they arrived, a crowd was there to meet them. Jesus had compassion for them, and began to teach them.
When it got late, the disciples, who still had not had anything to eat since they returned from their mission trips, thought it was time for Jesus to send the crowds away. And Jesus said, "You give them something to eat."
They were tired, they were hungry, and all they had were five pitas and a couple of fish.
Eventually, the disciples would get their rest, but right there, right then, there were hungry people in need of food. So rather than resting and reflecting, the disciples found themselves serving and clearing.
Sometimes compassion requires us to set aside our program, our schedule, our plan, and attend to the opportune moment. This was such a time.