12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 1 ~ Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14, (15-20).
12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 2 ~ Isaiah 62:6-12; Psalm 97; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:(1-7), 8-20.
12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 3 ~ Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98; Hebrews 1:1-4, (5-12); John 1:1-14.
What Does This Mean?
“...Mary treasured all these things and pondered on them, reflected on them in her heart.” — Luke 2:19.
It was late in the afternoon of a sunny, spring day that Mary set out walking, climbing the hill. [1] The wind was steady and a little cool. But it was a light wind.
Flowers had started to work their magic. There was a blaze of color on the hillside. She was sure when she and her husband had come down that same hillside into town, into Bethlehem, just five days ago those flowers had not yet bloomed.
Was not this same hill simply a field of mud then? The pallet of color on display now made her wonder if she had ever before seen such an array of nature, had ever before seen such an display of beauty created by God.
She reached the top of the hill and sat down amidst the colors. She had made the climb because needed some time alone. She needed to process what had happened. And she trusted Joseph to stay with and to care for the baby, even though the infant was not yet three days old.
She had been present when other children were born. She was there when her cousin, Elizabeth, gave birth to John. That was hard. Elizabeth was not young and the birth was difficult.
The birth of this child, her child, her first, whom she named Yeshua— Jesus in the Greek— surprised her in part because it was not hard. On the other hand, the baby seemed to have colic that first evening and constantly cried the whole night. She got no sleep. Joseph got no sleep.
But she also looked on the bright side of things. She and Joseph had been lucky. While there was no room at the place they wanted to stay, the lodging did have a barn they could use.
Joseph, her husband, was inventive and handy. He found fresh straw in the loft, not soiled like a lot of what you would find in a barn. He pulled the hay down. He arranged it carefully. It was soft. It provided some warmth. It was just right.
The bed of straw was just right even for a newborn child who cried the whole night long. She did not know what to make of this crying that first night but suddenly, as the dawn approached, the crying ceased and the child rested. But the whole time those strange shepherds were there, Yeshua did cry. (Slight pause.)
Maybe it was not the shepherds, themselves, who were strange. Maybe what had happened to them and what they said was strange. What they said was one of the reasons she needed time alone, needed time to think, needed time to process.
The shepherds talked about light shining all around them in the dark. They said they heard a voice. They thought it had been an encounter with an angel.
This tale might not make sense to some people. But it made sense to Mary.
After all, she knew about angels. She had spoken with one. Her cousin Elizabeth had spoken with one. Angel— the word means messenger from God— angel, angels were real. She knew that.
Based on what the shepherds said, the message sent by God through an angel was simple and direct: in the City of David, In Bethlehem, the Messiah had been born. And so these young shepherds— she thought not a one of them was over twelve— these shepherds came looking for an infant, a newborn and found that infant in a stable. They found Joseph. They found Mary. All that left a question on her heart: what does this mean?
When the angel spoke to Mary, the word Messiah was never used. But, when Mary visited Elizabeth, her cousin did make that claim: Mary was to be the mother of the Messiah.
And that left a question on her heart: what does this mean? And so, the question churned within her and she purposefully wandered up the hillside to think, to ponder, to be alone. She felt a need to pray. (Slight pause.)
For some reason, as she sat on the ground surrounded by flowers, her thoughts drifted back several years to the Rabbi she knew in the town in which she was raised. She once asked the Rabbi when the Messiah might come.
The response was, at one the same time, reassuring and ambiguous. “The Messiah, the Messiah,” he said, “shall come. The prophet Isaiah says the Messiah will come as a child. That seems obvious. Everyone needs to be born.”
“And when the Messiah comes, it will be a time of great anguish, great darkness for the people. But the Messiah shall bring peace.”
“Well, we might as well be enslaved right now,” said Mary. “The occupying Army of Rome walks our streets daily. They arrest whomever they want whenever they want.”
“They crucify whomever they want whenever they want. They kill people who have done nothing. Perhaps the time for the Messiah is now.”
He seemed to put her off, as if she was being frivolous. “Yes, my child— the Messiah may well come and bring peace in our lifetime.” (Slight pause.)
“Messiah,” she thought to herself. “Elizabeth said it. The shepherds claimed the angels said it. No. Unlikely. Yet what the Rabbi said was true: everyone needs to be born, even a Messiah.” (Slight pause.)
Mary stood. Night was fast approaching and she needed to be back down the hill, back with her child, back with her husband. She looked at the flowers surrounding her. She looked at the sky. The light was fading but the sky was still blue.
She thought back to the time the angel spoke with her. She realized that when she said, “Let it be done to me as you say” she had surrendered her heart.
And maybe that was what the Messiah was really about: surrendering your heart to God. Then she realized something she had not thought about in months.
The angel told her what name she was to give the child. Yeshua— a name which means God saves, a name which means deliverance.
She had not remember this instruction from the angel until that very moment. And yet, she had done it. She had named the child Yeshua— God saves, deliverance.
What did this mean? Did this mean the child was to be the Messiah of God? She did not know the answer.
As Mary walked down the hill she kept thinking about it. The words of Isaiah came back to her: “The people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who lived in a land of deep shadows— / on them light is shining. / For a child is born to us, / an heir given to us;...”
Once back in the barn she took the child from Joseph and held it tenderly. She looked into the baby’s eyes. She saw... love. “Messiah?” she thought. “I don’t know.
But I do know God loves this child. God loves me. God love all people. Perhaps this child, my child— Yeshua— God saves, deliverance— perhaps this child will be the one.” Amen.
12/24/2012, Christmas Eve
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I have often said Christmas is the most important Christian feast on the secular calendar. At the very least for we Christians Easter, Pentecost, the Epiphany and Trinity Sunday should be counted as more important than Christmas. Which is not to say Christmas lacks importance. It is to say we need to reclaim Christmas as a Christian feast. In an effort to reclaim real Christmas, let me make a suggestion, one I make each year. Please do not wish people a ‘Merry Christmas.’ When you greet someone say ‘Happy Christmas.’ People can be merry about the new year, but let’s be happy about what we celebrate tonight: the birth of the Messiah, present in our midst.”
BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing from the words of the Prophet Isaiah in the 60th chapter (Isaiah 60:19-20a): The sun shall no longer be / your light by day, / nor for brightness shall the moon / give you light by night; / for Yahweh, God, will be your everlasting light, / and your glory. / Amen.
[1] This was stated at the beginning of the service (as it is every year): “Many scholars think Jesus was born in what we would call the year Four Before the Common Era, or Four, B.C.E., in the Springtime of that year.”
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
12/23/2012 ~ Fourth Sunday of Advent ~ Joy ~ Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:46b-55 or Psalm 80:1-7; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45, (46-55).
Equity and Equality
These words are from Luke/Acts in the section known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” — Luke 1: 52-53.
Well I suppose I need to start by saying I presume you all noticed the world did not end on Friday. Did it? You are all here, are you not? (Well, I suppose some of you are here, kind of— but— different issue.) [Slight pause.]
Next, having at the beginning of the service addressed receiving the Christmas Fund offering, here is a question. And, by the way, it’s not a question about any kind of apocalypse. Which is to say, it is a question not to be taken lightly. (Slight pause.)
From where do pastors come? After all, pastors are not hatched nor do they arrive in the beak of a stork. (Slight pause.)
In our tradition, pastors start as members of the laity who sit among us, in the pews of our churches. These prospective pastors, people who are possibly pastors, are identified by other members of the laity who sit with them in those pews. So, pastors are members of the laity whom other members of the laity identify as having the necessary gifts to do the work of being a pastor.
And so it came to pass I was identified by members of the laity in First Parish Church, United Church of Christ of Brunswick, Maine. It was the members of that church, having indicated to me that I might have the necessary gifts for ministry, who plucked me from the pew and sent me to Bangor Theological Seminary.
Please notice— I said I might have the gifts. They thought I had the gifts. Sometimes the process is hard. You see, the wash out rate of students in Main Line Seminaries is higher than the wash out rate in law school, notorious for its wash out rate.
Don’t let anyone tell you seminary is an easy road. If a seminary does not question everything you ever believed about God and everything you ever believed about yourself, that institution is doing it wrong.
But that’s a side matter. I’d like to get back to the church who send me to seminary, First Parish in Brunswick. (And, by the way, since a church is a group of people, not a building, ‘who,’ the word I just used— ‘the church who sent me’— ‘who’ is the appropriate pronoun to use when referring to a church.)
Needless to say, I still have ties at First Parish. I still have friends there. I still get their monthly newsletter. And, whereas we, in this church, have no plans to send out our January newsletter until January 4th, I already have the January newsletter of First Parish, Brunswick in my hand.
In that newsletter the pastor, Mary Baard told this story and I’ve asked her permission to use it. Further, and as a ‘heads up,’ I may even use this story again in our own newsletter. The story ends with a poem not written by Mary, which I also have permission to use.
These are the words of the Rev. Ms. Baard in that newsletter (quote): “On January 13, 2013 we will celebrate baptisms with people who range in age from a toddler to adult. It is a profound blessing to share in this sacred ritual with one another, as we remember God’s love for each person and we promise our love, support and care for the people being baptized. In the wake of the Newtown tragedy, we realize again how essential it is for communities to support one another.”
“A year ago, at the beginning of 2012, we celebrated baptism with Caroline Gill, age 12 at that time, who just a few months before that had expressed an interest in going to church. Soon after her baptism, she wrote this poem. We printed in it in the March newsletter, but it seems appropriate to share it again,” says Mary. (Slight pause.)
This is the poem. Its title is Baptism. I’ve placed a copy of it on an insert in the bulletin. Do read along. It might help you understand it.
Baptism
I am nervous, shaking
I am tall among taller
I am one inside one million
I am taken, taken to the water
I am amazed, hypnotized
By its shine its crystal-ness.
I am asked, answered
I am standing
I am blessed
I am wet with His love,
soaked in His warmth
I am still one but now in
one million loving hearts.
I am Caroline
I am ♥ †
— sign of a heart, sign of a cross— printed on that page. (Slight pause.) And these words are from the work known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” (Slight pause.)
The texts for this Fourth Sunday in Advent capture something of the flavor theologians constantly attribute to the entire Bible, a flavor, an attitude they call “already and not yet.” The Micah reading appears in a context that reflects difficult times for the people of God. Many scholars believe Micah wrote around the time of the fall of Jerusalem in 587 Before the Common Era.
At one point the Prophet suddenly begins to speak in tones of joy. Little Bethlehem, of small consequence in so many ways, will give to Israel the One who will rule in peace.
And this is to be no ordinary ruler of the house of David but one whose origins are (quote) “from ancient days” and whose (quote) “greatness” shall (quote) “reach to the ends of the earth.” This rule and this ruler is yet to come, but the joyful effect is already felt in the hearts of those who are aware of the nearness and the reality of this one. (Slight pause.) “Already and not yet.” (Slight pause.)
And then there is Luke. Yes, this story concentrates on Mary and Elizabeth. But there is so much more. In the details we find exactly what Luke writes about throughout Luke/Acts and a good deal of it is about “already and not yet.”
Just like Hannah the spirit of Mary rejoices in God. These words mirror the song of Hannah. And the words speak of the redeeming work of God not as in the future but as already having been fulfilled. Such is the confidence of faith.
Further, the overthrow of the powerful both has and will come about through the mounting up of the weak in rebellion. And it will also come to fruition because of the coming of God in the weakness of a child.
The couplets of the Magnificat, this Scriptural poem, describe the dramatic reversal that is the signature of the acts of God— God on the side of the outcast. I suspect we have heard the Magnificat of Mary so often we may have forgotten its subversive, revolutionary, dangerous power. The proud are scattered, the powerful deposed.
By contrast, the lowly are exalted, the hungry fed while the rich are sent away empty. Further, the Magnificat, more so than any predictions of what is to come, praises God for the goodness of the nature of God and the redemption Israel. It is our hope that this the nature of God that we, the church, have experienced. (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to the apocalypse which has not happened. You see, the reality of an apocalypse from the Biblical prospective is exactly as Micah and the Magnificat suggest. It is “already and not yet.”
It is already and not yet because there is an important ingredient missing. And that ingredient, that part, is us. As the 12 year old Caroline Gill obviously already knows (quote): “I am still one but now in / one million loving hearts.”
You see, in the work known as Luke Jesus, the Messiah, is clearly born among the poor and lowly and the birth is clearly announced to poor and lowly. And the call Luke makes to us is a call to all of us to action— action to do the will of God to work toward the dominion of God, even though the dominion is both “already and not yet.”
Caroline Gill, age 12, clearly knows the birth of the Messiah, the birth we are about to celebrate, is about the covenant between all of us and God. An the birth of the Messiah, in which that covenant finds its embodiment, is meant to contain a radical message.
How radical? This is evident throughout Scripture. The covenant is about the equity and the equality of all of us— about the equity and the equality of all of us. Indeed, the covenant is also about the equity and the equality of each of us.
And yes, a little child often leads us. In this case, Caroline Gill, age 12, tells us that we are (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” (Slight pause.) So, we are the children in Newtown, Connecticut. We are the victims in Aurora, Colorado.
Byt you don’t need me to rehearse that list. What I need you to understand is “already but not yet” is a reality that calls us to action. Unless we, in the pews, and myself and my colleagues in the pulpits, the ones who have been identified as pastors and teachers— unless we, all of us, do our part, the promises of God about “already” will not fulfilled.
So, let us, together, celebrate the birth of the Messiah in this way: let this Christmas, this celebration, be a call to us to understand and to act on being (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” Amen.
12/23/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “The late theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said this (quote): ‘In the final analysis, the questions of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Go in peace for God is with us. Go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that God is steadfast. Amen.
Equity and Equality
These words are from Luke/Acts in the section known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” — Luke 1: 52-53.
Well I suppose I need to start by saying I presume you all noticed the world did not end on Friday. Did it? You are all here, are you not? (Well, I suppose some of you are here, kind of— but— different issue.) [Slight pause.]
Next, having at the beginning of the service addressed receiving the Christmas Fund offering, here is a question. And, by the way, it’s not a question about any kind of apocalypse. Which is to say, it is a question not to be taken lightly. (Slight pause.)
From where do pastors come? After all, pastors are not hatched nor do they arrive in the beak of a stork. (Slight pause.)
In our tradition, pastors start as members of the laity who sit among us, in the pews of our churches. These prospective pastors, people who are possibly pastors, are identified by other members of the laity who sit with them in those pews. So, pastors are members of the laity whom other members of the laity identify as having the necessary gifts to do the work of being a pastor.
And so it came to pass I was identified by members of the laity in First Parish Church, United Church of Christ of Brunswick, Maine. It was the members of that church, having indicated to me that I might have the necessary gifts for ministry, who plucked me from the pew and sent me to Bangor Theological Seminary.
Please notice— I said I might have the gifts. They thought I had the gifts. Sometimes the process is hard. You see, the wash out rate of students in Main Line Seminaries is higher than the wash out rate in law school, notorious for its wash out rate.
Don’t let anyone tell you seminary is an easy road. If a seminary does not question everything you ever believed about God and everything you ever believed about yourself, that institution is doing it wrong.
But that’s a side matter. I’d like to get back to the church who send me to seminary, First Parish in Brunswick. (And, by the way, since a church is a group of people, not a building, ‘who,’ the word I just used— ‘the church who sent me’— ‘who’ is the appropriate pronoun to use when referring to a church.)
Needless to say, I still have ties at First Parish. I still have friends there. I still get their monthly newsletter. And, whereas we, in this church, have no plans to send out our January newsletter until January 4th, I already have the January newsletter of First Parish, Brunswick in my hand.
In that newsletter the pastor, Mary Baard told this story and I’ve asked her permission to use it. Further, and as a ‘heads up,’ I may even use this story again in our own newsletter. The story ends with a poem not written by Mary, which I also have permission to use.
These are the words of the Rev. Ms. Baard in that newsletter (quote): “On January 13, 2013 we will celebrate baptisms with people who range in age from a toddler to adult. It is a profound blessing to share in this sacred ritual with one another, as we remember God’s love for each person and we promise our love, support and care for the people being baptized. In the wake of the Newtown tragedy, we realize again how essential it is for communities to support one another.”
“A year ago, at the beginning of 2012, we celebrated baptism with Caroline Gill, age 12 at that time, who just a few months before that had expressed an interest in going to church. Soon after her baptism, she wrote this poem. We printed in it in the March newsletter, but it seems appropriate to share it again,” says Mary. (Slight pause.)
This is the poem. Its title is Baptism. I’ve placed a copy of it on an insert in the bulletin. Do read along. It might help you understand it.
Baptism
I am nervous, shaking
I am tall among taller
I am one inside one million
I am taken, taken to the water
I am amazed, hypnotized
By its shine its crystal-ness.
I am asked, answered
I am standing
I am blessed
I am wet with His love,
soaked in His warmth
I am still one but now in
one million loving hearts.
I am Caroline
I am ♥ †
— sign of a heart, sign of a cross— printed on that page. (Slight pause.) And these words are from the work known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” (Slight pause.)
The texts for this Fourth Sunday in Advent capture something of the flavor theologians constantly attribute to the entire Bible, a flavor, an attitude they call “already and not yet.” The Micah reading appears in a context that reflects difficult times for the people of God. Many scholars believe Micah wrote around the time of the fall of Jerusalem in 587 Before the Common Era.
At one point the Prophet suddenly begins to speak in tones of joy. Little Bethlehem, of small consequence in so many ways, will give to Israel the One who will rule in peace.
And this is to be no ordinary ruler of the house of David but one whose origins are (quote) “from ancient days” and whose (quote) “greatness” shall (quote) “reach to the ends of the earth.” This rule and this ruler is yet to come, but the joyful effect is already felt in the hearts of those who are aware of the nearness and the reality of this one. (Slight pause.) “Already and not yet.” (Slight pause.)
And then there is Luke. Yes, this story concentrates on Mary and Elizabeth. But there is so much more. In the details we find exactly what Luke writes about throughout Luke/Acts and a good deal of it is about “already and not yet.”
Just like Hannah the spirit of Mary rejoices in God. These words mirror the song of Hannah. And the words speak of the redeeming work of God not as in the future but as already having been fulfilled. Such is the confidence of faith.
Further, the overthrow of the powerful both has and will come about through the mounting up of the weak in rebellion. And it will also come to fruition because of the coming of God in the weakness of a child.
The couplets of the Magnificat, this Scriptural poem, describe the dramatic reversal that is the signature of the acts of God— God on the side of the outcast. I suspect we have heard the Magnificat of Mary so often we may have forgotten its subversive, revolutionary, dangerous power. The proud are scattered, the powerful deposed.
By contrast, the lowly are exalted, the hungry fed while the rich are sent away empty. Further, the Magnificat, more so than any predictions of what is to come, praises God for the goodness of the nature of God and the redemption Israel. It is our hope that this the nature of God that we, the church, have experienced. (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to the apocalypse which has not happened. You see, the reality of an apocalypse from the Biblical prospective is exactly as Micah and the Magnificat suggest. It is “already and not yet.”
It is already and not yet because there is an important ingredient missing. And that ingredient, that part, is us. As the 12 year old Caroline Gill obviously already knows (quote): “I am still one but now in / one million loving hearts.”
You see, in the work known as Luke Jesus, the Messiah, is clearly born among the poor and lowly and the birth is clearly announced to poor and lowly. And the call Luke makes to us is a call to all of us to action— action to do the will of God to work toward the dominion of God, even though the dominion is both “already and not yet.”
Caroline Gill, age 12, clearly knows the birth of the Messiah, the birth we are about to celebrate, is about the covenant between all of us and God. An the birth of the Messiah, in which that covenant finds its embodiment, is meant to contain a radical message.
How radical? This is evident throughout Scripture. The covenant is about the equity and the equality of all of us— about the equity and the equality of all of us. Indeed, the covenant is also about the equity and the equality of each of us.
And yes, a little child often leads us. In this case, Caroline Gill, age 12, tells us that we are (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” (Slight pause.) So, we are the children in Newtown, Connecticut. We are the victims in Aurora, Colorado.
Byt you don’t need me to rehearse that list. What I need you to understand is “already but not yet” is a reality that calls us to action. Unless we, in the pews, and myself and my colleagues in the pulpits, the ones who have been identified as pastors and teachers— unless we, all of us, do our part, the promises of God about “already” will not fulfilled.
So, let us, together, celebrate the birth of the Messiah in this way: let this Christmas, this celebration, be a call to us to understand and to act on being (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” Amen.
12/23/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “The late theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said this (quote): ‘In the final analysis, the questions of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Go in peace for God is with us. Go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that God is steadfast. Amen.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Sermon ~ 12/09/2012 ~ The Prophecy Is Telegraphed
12/09/2012 ~ Second Sunday of Advent ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Peace Is Celebrated ~ Baruch 5:1-9 or Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 1:68-79; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6.
The Prophecy Is Telegraphed
These words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” — Malachi 3:1.
There is a story often told in the State of Maine which tries to illustrate how much God cares about us and how often we miss that reality. I’m quite sure this story is told outside of the State of Maine but, as a proud graduate of Bangor Theological Seminary, I want to offer the Maine version. In the case of the Maine rendition, the story is told about a fellow named Jasper Beal.
(For this story, the pastor breaks out a Maine accent. The text reflects this.) There was a farmah by the name of Jaspah Beal who had a small fahm right on the Androscoggin Rivah, pretty near Lisbon Falls, only about five miles from Durham— Durham, where that fellah Stephen King grew up. And yes, you are right. King went to Lisbon Falls High School. Hearhd tell, he’s made quite a name for himself.
Well, despite being a small fahm, the acreage next to the Androscoggin was fertile, so growing things proved to be a prosperous enterprise. This particular piece of land was situated well to the north of where the tidewatah reaches the rivah. Tidewatah, that’s the place where the rivah is close to the ocean— so close it becomes way too salty to be of any help to agricultural. People do try to fahm some down rivah, down by the tidewatah. But it be hardah down there.
Now, Spring— Spring can be a dangerous season in Maine, especially upstream. When the weathah stahts to get just a tad warmah, it becomes a bad ideah to walk across the rivah like everyone does all wintah, seeing as how the ice starts a movin’. Seems like a paradox, but ice flows— rivah ice— it moves. And movin’ ice can jam things up quite a bit. Indeed, one time enough ice wedged itself in the narrah stretch right by the falls, just below Jaspah’s fahm so that the watah backed up a nasty amount.
One afternoon Beal noticed watah from the rivah in places where he’d nevah seen it before. It was a creepin’ ovah the field where he’d be soon puttin’ in some Potatahs. He was not too worried about it. Potatahs usually don’t get planted till April, sometimes lattah in this neck of the woods. And he figuahed the watah would be back to its nahmal course by then. (Slight pause.)
When Jaspah got up the next mornin’, the watah was lapping ovah his front porch. As Jaspah stood inside the doh-or wrapped up wahm in his L. L. Bean coat, looking out at the watah, the local police chief, Larry Thibodaux, come along in a boat and rowed right up to him. “Jaspah— you’d bettah get in,” said the chief. “The watah’s goin’ to keep commin’ up for a while.”
“No,” said Jaspah. “I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Well, that afternoon, Jaspah was lookin’ out the front windah of the second floor, the watah having pretty much made the first floor not liveable exceptin’ if you were a trout. That’s when the Androscoggin Country Sheriff, one Harold Robbins, came along in a motah boat and pulled up to that second floor windah where Jaspah stood.
“Jaspah,” said Sheriff Robbins, “you’d bettah get in. The weathah report says that ice jam won’t break for a while.”
Jaspah just nodded his head. “No. I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Lattah that night, when Jaspah was on the roof of the house, he could hear the thud, thud, thud sound a helicoptah makes. Soon, a bright light was a shining down on ‘em. He heard a loud speakah shoutin’ at him. A voice said to grab the rope being dropped. He grabbed the rope, threw it off in the watah below, then waved off the crew membah who was hangin’ out the side of the choppah.
He smiled as the thud, thud, thud sound retreated. He knew he would be just fine. (Slight pause.)
Saint Peteah expressed some surprise when Jaspah presented himself there at pearly gates. “Jumpin’ Jehasaphat, Jaspah! We were not expectin’ ya’ this soon,” said the disciple. (Yes. Peter does speak with a Downeast accent. After all, just like a lot of folks who live Downeast, the Saint did make a living catchin’ fish.)
“Well,” said Jaspah, “I don’t know what happened. The flood watahs kept a commin’ and a commin’ and a commin’ and the next thing ya know I be here. I don’t know why. Aftah all, I prayed and God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made. Everything will be just fine.”
Petah did not seem amused. “Jaspah,” the Saint said. “What do you think the row boat, the motah boat and the helicoptah were about? God sent ‘em. What were you expectin’? Archangels are way too busy to be hangin’ out a waitin’ hand and foot on you. They don’t go zoomin’ in just when you need them, ya know.” (Slight pause. The pastor drops the Downeast accent.)
And these words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” (Slight pause.)
As prophecy goes, most scholars think Malachi comes late in the game of prophecy. This work is probably written after the Babylonian Exile, sometime in the Sixth Century Before the Common Era. Hence the prophet speaks to a Jerusalem very much still being reconstructed and reconstituted after the exile.
The message of the Prophet is not a new one for the Jewish people. It is the message of the covenant— the covenant of God with the people of God. This was the message delivered by Moses, the same message delivered by Isaiah, the same message delivered by Jeremiah.
The message? God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives.
Indeed, the reason Malachi preached and the problem of the Jewish people in that time and our problem today is a little like the one Jasper had. We need to recognize the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives.
Please do not mis-understand me. I don’t, for a minute, think the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives is easy to recognize.
Also a little like our friend Jasper, it can be easier for those around us to recognize the work of God, the hand of God and the action of God than it is for us to see. And just like Jasper, even when we prayerfully consider the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God, we can miss it.
That is where the community of faith which surrounds us can help. We need to listen to those around us. Sometimes— not all the time but sometimes— community of faith who surrounds us can act as messengers of God.
You see, the name Malachi means messenger. So, when I say that most scholars think Malachi comes late to the game of prophecy, I mean that quite literally. Malachi— this messenger— is only repeating what prophets of God have said all along.
Hence, perhaps the real question for the people who were contemporaries of Malachi and the real question for us is simple. Are we listening? (Slight pause.)
So, what does the message of the covenant have to do with Advent and Christmas? Frankly, I sometimes wonder if we are listening. The message of Christmas is repeated year after year after year. Christmas is about the in-breaking of God into our world and into our lives.
The message is this simple: God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives. In short, Christmas is about the covenant. It is about the covenant being fulfilled because it is embodied by Jesus, who is the Christ. Amen.
12/09/2012
United Church of Christ, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “We, humanity, are always acquiring new knowledge. And that is wonderful. But the older I get the more worried I am about what we seem to forget. Mathematicians knew the earth was round and had calculated the circumference of it within a 25 mile error 300 years before the birth of the Christ. It took about 1,800 years for that information to be rediscovered. The Ancient Egyptians knew how to make clear glass. That art was lost for about 1,100 years. I could go on an on about things the ancients knew and society forgot, but suffice it to say, my biggest concern is we, humanity forget things. If we remember nothing else about Christmas, we need to remember this: the Advent of the Christ is about the fulfillment of the covenant.”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Let us go in peace for God is with us. Let us go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Let us go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Let us go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that the love of God is steadfast. Amen.
The Prophecy Is Telegraphed
These words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” — Malachi 3:1.
There is a story often told in the State of Maine which tries to illustrate how much God cares about us and how often we miss that reality. I’m quite sure this story is told outside of the State of Maine but, as a proud graduate of Bangor Theological Seminary, I want to offer the Maine version. In the case of the Maine rendition, the story is told about a fellow named Jasper Beal.
(For this story, the pastor breaks out a Maine accent. The text reflects this.) There was a farmah by the name of Jaspah Beal who had a small fahm right on the Androscoggin Rivah, pretty near Lisbon Falls, only about five miles from Durham— Durham, where that fellah Stephen King grew up. And yes, you are right. King went to Lisbon Falls High School. Hearhd tell, he’s made quite a name for himself.
Well, despite being a small fahm, the acreage next to the Androscoggin was fertile, so growing things proved to be a prosperous enterprise. This particular piece of land was situated well to the north of where the tidewatah reaches the rivah. Tidewatah, that’s the place where the rivah is close to the ocean— so close it becomes way too salty to be of any help to agricultural. People do try to fahm some down rivah, down by the tidewatah. But it be hardah down there.
Now, Spring— Spring can be a dangerous season in Maine, especially upstream. When the weathah stahts to get just a tad warmah, it becomes a bad ideah to walk across the rivah like everyone does all wintah, seeing as how the ice starts a movin’. Seems like a paradox, but ice flows— rivah ice— it moves. And movin’ ice can jam things up quite a bit. Indeed, one time enough ice wedged itself in the narrah stretch right by the falls, just below Jaspah’s fahm so that the watah backed up a nasty amount.
One afternoon Beal noticed watah from the rivah in places where he’d nevah seen it before. It was a creepin’ ovah the field where he’d be soon puttin’ in some Potatahs. He was not too worried about it. Potatahs usually don’t get planted till April, sometimes lattah in this neck of the woods. And he figuahed the watah would be back to its nahmal course by then. (Slight pause.)
When Jaspah got up the next mornin’, the watah was lapping ovah his front porch. As Jaspah stood inside the doh-or wrapped up wahm in his L. L. Bean coat, looking out at the watah, the local police chief, Larry Thibodaux, come along in a boat and rowed right up to him. “Jaspah— you’d bettah get in,” said the chief. “The watah’s goin’ to keep commin’ up for a while.”
“No,” said Jaspah. “I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Well, that afternoon, Jaspah was lookin’ out the front windah of the second floor, the watah having pretty much made the first floor not liveable exceptin’ if you were a trout. That’s when the Androscoggin Country Sheriff, one Harold Robbins, came along in a motah boat and pulled up to that second floor windah where Jaspah stood.
“Jaspah,” said Sheriff Robbins, “you’d bettah get in. The weathah report says that ice jam won’t break for a while.”
Jaspah just nodded his head. “No. I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Lattah that night, when Jaspah was on the roof of the house, he could hear the thud, thud, thud sound a helicoptah makes. Soon, a bright light was a shining down on ‘em. He heard a loud speakah shoutin’ at him. A voice said to grab the rope being dropped. He grabbed the rope, threw it off in the watah below, then waved off the crew membah who was hangin’ out the side of the choppah.
He smiled as the thud, thud, thud sound retreated. He knew he would be just fine. (Slight pause.)
Saint Peteah expressed some surprise when Jaspah presented himself there at pearly gates. “Jumpin’ Jehasaphat, Jaspah! We were not expectin’ ya’ this soon,” said the disciple. (Yes. Peter does speak with a Downeast accent. After all, just like a lot of folks who live Downeast, the Saint did make a living catchin’ fish.)
“Well,” said Jaspah, “I don’t know what happened. The flood watahs kept a commin’ and a commin’ and a commin’ and the next thing ya know I be here. I don’t know why. Aftah all, I prayed and God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made. Everything will be just fine.”
Petah did not seem amused. “Jaspah,” the Saint said. “What do you think the row boat, the motah boat and the helicoptah were about? God sent ‘em. What were you expectin’? Archangels are way too busy to be hangin’ out a waitin’ hand and foot on you. They don’t go zoomin’ in just when you need them, ya know.” (Slight pause. The pastor drops the Downeast accent.)
And these words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” (Slight pause.)
As prophecy goes, most scholars think Malachi comes late in the game of prophecy. This work is probably written after the Babylonian Exile, sometime in the Sixth Century Before the Common Era. Hence the prophet speaks to a Jerusalem very much still being reconstructed and reconstituted after the exile.
The message of the Prophet is not a new one for the Jewish people. It is the message of the covenant— the covenant of God with the people of God. This was the message delivered by Moses, the same message delivered by Isaiah, the same message delivered by Jeremiah.
The message? God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives.
Indeed, the reason Malachi preached and the problem of the Jewish people in that time and our problem today is a little like the one Jasper had. We need to recognize the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives.
Please do not mis-understand me. I don’t, for a minute, think the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives is easy to recognize.
Also a little like our friend Jasper, it can be easier for those around us to recognize the work of God, the hand of God and the action of God than it is for us to see. And just like Jasper, even when we prayerfully consider the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God, we can miss it.
That is where the community of faith which surrounds us can help. We need to listen to those around us. Sometimes— not all the time but sometimes— community of faith who surrounds us can act as messengers of God.
You see, the name Malachi means messenger. So, when I say that most scholars think Malachi comes late to the game of prophecy, I mean that quite literally. Malachi— this messenger— is only repeating what prophets of God have said all along.
Hence, perhaps the real question for the people who were contemporaries of Malachi and the real question for us is simple. Are we listening? (Slight pause.)
So, what does the message of the covenant have to do with Advent and Christmas? Frankly, I sometimes wonder if we are listening. The message of Christmas is repeated year after year after year. Christmas is about the in-breaking of God into our world and into our lives.
The message is this simple: God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives. In short, Christmas is about the covenant. It is about the covenant being fulfilled because it is embodied by Jesus, who is the Christ. Amen.
12/09/2012
United Church of Christ, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “We, humanity, are always acquiring new knowledge. And that is wonderful. But the older I get the more worried I am about what we seem to forget. Mathematicians knew the earth was round and had calculated the circumference of it within a 25 mile error 300 years before the birth of the Christ. It took about 1,800 years for that information to be rediscovered. The Ancient Egyptians knew how to make clear glass. That art was lost for about 1,100 years. I could go on an on about things the ancients knew and society forgot, but suffice it to say, my biggest concern is we, humanity forget things. If we remember nothing else about Christmas, we need to remember this: the Advent of the Christ is about the fulfillment of the covenant.”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Let us go in peace for God is with us. Let us go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Let us go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Let us go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that the love of God is steadfast. Amen.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
12/02/2012 ~ Sermon ~ The Promise
12/02/2012 ~ First Sunday of Advent ~ Hope ~ Jeremiah 33:14-16; Psalm 25:1-10; 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13; Luke 21:25-36 ~ The First Sunday in Year ‘C’ on the Three Year Cycle of Lectionary Readings on the Church Calendar ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Hope Is Celebrated ~ Communion Sunday.
The Promise
“The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” — Jeremiah 33:14
I have mentioned my late Uncle, my Father’s brother Edward, on a couple of occasions. He was, in many ways, a consummate native of New York City, a New Yorker to his very bones. Unlike some natives of the city, he did drive. On the other hand, he never traveled too far.
For those of you who have seen the musical Guys and Dolls, I am fond of saying he was the last of the real, in the flesh, Damon Runyon characters. Guys and Dolls could have been easily written about him.
For those of you who don’t know a thing about Guys and Dolls or Damon Runyon, suffice it to say he was the kind of guy who maintained a credit line with his own personal bookie and would place a bet on anything. He was known to gamble on horse races, on football games, on baseball games— how long a pigeon would stay on the ground eating bread crumbs Ed had dropped before taking flight.
And Uncle Ed, true to the idea of not traveling very far from mid-town Manhattan, was fond of saying if you lived in New York City you did not have to travel anywhere. Everything would eventually come to you. He also said if you just stood at the so called the crossroads of the world, Times Square, for twenty-four hours, you were as likely as not to see everything— or at least see everything you ever needed to see.
I was reminded of him saying that this week because I stumbled across proof of the premise that you can see anything in New York City. I read an article in the New York Times about camels walking down West Fifty-first Street in the city, just a little way from Times Square. So, how amazing is it that you can see camels in New York City— on West Fifty-first Street? Strange, right? (Slight pause.)
Now, I know this is very New York City of me, but those of you who have never been to the Christmas Show at Radio City Music Hall, you must go see it. The show is at one in the same time, awful and magnificent, breath taking and tasteless. It often contains every last bad popular Christmas song you can think of. Then, ending on a note of sincerity, it presents a breathtaking nativity tableau with live actors and live animals.
And that’s where the camels walking down West Fifty-first Street come it. It turns out the camels in the show need to be walked every morning.
When I read the article, I was pleased to find out the animals— a sheep, a donkey and the camels— are from a Sanctuary for Animals. Not only that, but the sheep, the donkey and the camels earn enough money with this gig that they, thereby, support the many other creatures who live at the Sanctuary for whole the year. [1]
All of that, of course, comes back to the thesis my Uncle maintained: you can see anything in New York City, even camels walking down the street near Times Square. Based on this premise, you’d have to say it’s not just the place to be. It’s the center of the universe. And that’s what Ed really thought: New York City is the center of the universe.
But please don’t take that idea literally. In fact, I don’t for a second believe when Ed said New York is the center of the universe he was thinking about a place. He was thinking about himself. You see, if you can maintain a fantasy which says you live at the center of the universe, you can maintain a fantasy which says you, yourself, are at least a part of the center of the universe. (Slight pause.)
And these words come to us from the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah: “The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” (Slight pause.)
Yes, I too am a native of New York City. And yes, I do have a certain passion for it. But no, I do not believe it is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe Jerusalem is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe London or Moscow or Tokyo or Addis Ababa or even Norwich, New York, is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe I am the center of the universe.
But it does seem to me we all tend to ask the question and even like to ask the question about the location of the center of the universe, perhaps in the hope it might be nearby. But I think we mislead ourselves when we put the center of the universe in a location. The center of the universe, after all, is not about ‘where.’ (Slight pause.)
In this passage the prophet Jeremiah says Yahweh, GOD, will bestow all the blessings promised. So, what blessings are these? What blessing are these? And how do they work themselves out? Are they located in a place? (Slight pause.)
If you didn’t notice it already, we have entered the season of Advent. Advent is celebrated to move both individuals and the church out of the season just completed, Pentecost, Ordinary Time. How? Advent refreshes the proclamation of good news and claims the grace of God is impending. This grace insists God is about to present fresh possibilities for wholeness— fresh possibilities for wholeness.
Advent can do this because it has two faces, two orientations. It looks first to the past and offers a recapitulation of the longing with which people of faith live in a bygone era, an era which anticipated the coming of the Messiah. And Advent also looks to the future with an attitude of expectancy— expectancy concerning what God has yet to do in the life of humankind.
That brings me back to the promises of God. I think a promise of God is to walk with us all of our days. It is a part of the covenant God makes with all humankind. And Jesus is the symbol, the sign yes, the embodiment of that covenant. Jesus is the fulfillment of that covenant.
You see, I think that idea— the idea that God walks with us— is a part of the promise to which Jeremiah refers. And certainly one of the blessings of God is the journey we take called life.
The journey is not always easy. Life is not always easy. Only a fool or the truly naïve would say life is always easy.
But the covenant insists God is at our side throughout the journey even when life is not easy. And that— that is where location really comes in: God is at our side.
Which brings me back to Uncle Ed. In one sense, he was right: life can be and most of the time is a gamble. It can be treacherous, even frightening. In another sense, he was wrong. The center of the universe is not located in a place. The center of the universe is not located with us.
The center of the universe is with God. And God walks with us. (Slight pause.)
A friend of mine posted this quote by the Austrian poet Rainer Rilke on Facebook this week. (Quote:) “Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart…. Try to love the questions themselves…. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them— and the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers.” (Slight pause.)
What is the hope we address in Advent? I think the message of hope in Advent, the message of the Prophet is this: God lives. God loves. God walks with us. Amen.
12/02/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I saw something else on Facebook this week. (The pastor holds up a sign which says this: ‘Be the “IS” in Christmas.’) Be the ‘IS ’ in Christmas. As Christians, we live in hope. Hope is an active word. Hope is constant, real, alive. Hope— an ‘IS’ word.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace, for our hope is in the one who has made covenant with us. God reigns. Let us go in God’s peace. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] NY Times ~ 11/29/2012 ~ A Closely Guarded Secret: When the Camels Go for a Walk By Jim Dwyer
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/30/nyregion/christmas-show-camels-walk-time-a-closely-guarded-secret.html
The Promise
“The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” — Jeremiah 33:14
I have mentioned my late Uncle, my Father’s brother Edward, on a couple of occasions. He was, in many ways, a consummate native of New York City, a New Yorker to his very bones. Unlike some natives of the city, he did drive. On the other hand, he never traveled too far.
For those of you who have seen the musical Guys and Dolls, I am fond of saying he was the last of the real, in the flesh, Damon Runyon characters. Guys and Dolls could have been easily written about him.
For those of you who don’t know a thing about Guys and Dolls or Damon Runyon, suffice it to say he was the kind of guy who maintained a credit line with his own personal bookie and would place a bet on anything. He was known to gamble on horse races, on football games, on baseball games— how long a pigeon would stay on the ground eating bread crumbs Ed had dropped before taking flight.
And Uncle Ed, true to the idea of not traveling very far from mid-town Manhattan, was fond of saying if you lived in New York City you did not have to travel anywhere. Everything would eventually come to you. He also said if you just stood at the so called the crossroads of the world, Times Square, for twenty-four hours, you were as likely as not to see everything— or at least see everything you ever needed to see.
I was reminded of him saying that this week because I stumbled across proof of the premise that you can see anything in New York City. I read an article in the New York Times about camels walking down West Fifty-first Street in the city, just a little way from Times Square. So, how amazing is it that you can see camels in New York City— on West Fifty-first Street? Strange, right? (Slight pause.)
Now, I know this is very New York City of me, but those of you who have never been to the Christmas Show at Radio City Music Hall, you must go see it. The show is at one in the same time, awful and magnificent, breath taking and tasteless. It often contains every last bad popular Christmas song you can think of. Then, ending on a note of sincerity, it presents a breathtaking nativity tableau with live actors and live animals.
And that’s where the camels walking down West Fifty-first Street come it. It turns out the camels in the show need to be walked every morning.
When I read the article, I was pleased to find out the animals— a sheep, a donkey and the camels— are from a Sanctuary for Animals. Not only that, but the sheep, the donkey and the camels earn enough money with this gig that they, thereby, support the many other creatures who live at the Sanctuary for whole the year. [1]
All of that, of course, comes back to the thesis my Uncle maintained: you can see anything in New York City, even camels walking down the street near Times Square. Based on this premise, you’d have to say it’s not just the place to be. It’s the center of the universe. And that’s what Ed really thought: New York City is the center of the universe.
But please don’t take that idea literally. In fact, I don’t for a second believe when Ed said New York is the center of the universe he was thinking about a place. He was thinking about himself. You see, if you can maintain a fantasy which says you live at the center of the universe, you can maintain a fantasy which says you, yourself, are at least a part of the center of the universe. (Slight pause.)
And these words come to us from the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah: “The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” (Slight pause.)
Yes, I too am a native of New York City. And yes, I do have a certain passion for it. But no, I do not believe it is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe Jerusalem is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe London or Moscow or Tokyo or Addis Ababa or even Norwich, New York, is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe I am the center of the universe.
But it does seem to me we all tend to ask the question and even like to ask the question about the location of the center of the universe, perhaps in the hope it might be nearby. But I think we mislead ourselves when we put the center of the universe in a location. The center of the universe, after all, is not about ‘where.’ (Slight pause.)
In this passage the prophet Jeremiah says Yahweh, GOD, will bestow all the blessings promised. So, what blessings are these? What blessing are these? And how do they work themselves out? Are they located in a place? (Slight pause.)
If you didn’t notice it already, we have entered the season of Advent. Advent is celebrated to move both individuals and the church out of the season just completed, Pentecost, Ordinary Time. How? Advent refreshes the proclamation of good news and claims the grace of God is impending. This grace insists God is about to present fresh possibilities for wholeness— fresh possibilities for wholeness.
Advent can do this because it has two faces, two orientations. It looks first to the past and offers a recapitulation of the longing with which people of faith live in a bygone era, an era which anticipated the coming of the Messiah. And Advent also looks to the future with an attitude of expectancy— expectancy concerning what God has yet to do in the life of humankind.
That brings me back to the promises of God. I think a promise of God is to walk with us all of our days. It is a part of the covenant God makes with all humankind. And Jesus is the symbol, the sign yes, the embodiment of that covenant. Jesus is the fulfillment of that covenant.
You see, I think that idea— the idea that God walks with us— is a part of the promise to which Jeremiah refers. And certainly one of the blessings of God is the journey we take called life.
The journey is not always easy. Life is not always easy. Only a fool or the truly naïve would say life is always easy.
But the covenant insists God is at our side throughout the journey even when life is not easy. And that— that is where location really comes in: God is at our side.
Which brings me back to Uncle Ed. In one sense, he was right: life can be and most of the time is a gamble. It can be treacherous, even frightening. In another sense, he was wrong. The center of the universe is not located in a place. The center of the universe is not located with us.
The center of the universe is with God. And God walks with us. (Slight pause.)
A friend of mine posted this quote by the Austrian poet Rainer Rilke on Facebook this week. (Quote:) “Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart…. Try to love the questions themselves…. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them— and the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers.” (Slight pause.)
What is the hope we address in Advent? I think the message of hope in Advent, the message of the Prophet is this: God lives. God loves. God walks with us. Amen.
12/02/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I saw something else on Facebook this week. (The pastor holds up a sign which says this: ‘Be the “IS” in Christmas.’) Be the ‘IS ’ in Christmas. As Christians, we live in hope. Hope is an active word. Hope is constant, real, alive. Hope— an ‘IS’ word.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace, for our hope is in the one who has made covenant with us. God reigns. Let us go in God’s peace. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] NY Times ~ 11/29/2012 ~ A Closely Guarded Secret: When the Camels Go for a Walk By Jim Dwyer
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/30/nyregion/christmas-show-camels-walk-time-a-closely-guarded-secret.html
Sunday, November 25, 2012
SERMON ~ 11/25/2012 ~ The Prime Mover
11/25/2012 ~ Twenty-Sixth and Last Sunday after Pentecost ~ Thirty-fourth and Last Sunday in Ordinary Time and Known in Some Traditions as The Reign of Christ (Proper 29) ~ 2 Samuel 23:1-7; Psalm 132:1-12, (13-18); Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14; Psalm 93; Revelation 1:4b-8; John 18:33-37 ~ The Sunday After the Thanksgiving Holiday.
The Prime Mover
(When we read the Psalm we read it as an Antiphonal reading. As such, some words were slightly altered. These are the words of the first two verses of Psalm 93 as they are found in the Inclusive Language Version:) “Yahweh reigns, robed in splendor; / You are robed, Yahweh, girded with strength. / Yahweh has established the world; / it stands firm; / it shall never be moved; / Indeed, Your seat, / Your reign is established from of old, / from ages past; / from everlasting to everlasting / from eternity You exist.” — Psalm 93:1-2.
Suppose all the sales in all the stores on Black Friday went off on schedule and no one showed up? As you know, the day after Thanksgiving is commonly known as Black Friday. And as has been widely reported, shoppers crowd into stores as the doors open.
Bonnie and I have spent the last two Thanksgivings in the Saranac Lake area with my brother’s family. If you think Norwich is small, Saranac Lake is even smaller. There are no malls, Target stores or Walmarts.
Last year there was a “Black Friday” sale item I wanted at Radio Shack. As it happens and despite its diminutive size, Saranac Lake has a Radio Shack. The advertisement said the doors opened at 5:30 a.m.
Thinking we were a little late and the store would be sold out of the item, Bonnie and I got out of the house at about 5:15 and, as fast as we could, drove five miles to downtown Saranac Lake, making it just before the that 5:30 deadline.
Were there big crowds? No. There were two people in line. After all, it is Saranac Lake— small, small town America.
This year my brother wanted something at Radio Shack. So, given that we knew we did not have to be there exactly when the store opened. We got there at about 6:05, a half hour, a little more, after the opening time. We were the first customers. They had seen no one before us.
We asked the manager if he expected to see any crowd. “Yep,” he said. “When people get finished with the big stores down Plattsburgh way. We usually see a surge about, oh, 11:00 a.m. or so.”
Rumor to the contrary, year after year, the day which, on average, has the highest gross sales is not Black Friday but one of the days between the 16th and the 22nd of December, one of those seven days. Further, in more northern climates if it snows— not a heavy snow, just enough to remind people of the season, perhaps a little like last night— if it snows sometime in that stretch that will be the day with the highest sales.
Now, I’m not saying people shouldn’t shop. On a very practical level, I get it. Shopping at this time of year— and let’s call it what it is— Christmas shopping— all this Christmas shopping is an economic engine our economy would have a hard time replacing.
On the other hand, I do have an interesting fantasy about the link between Christmas and shopping. I have often wondered what would happen if the Pope— and with the centralized power of the Papacy the Pope is the only one who could do this— I have often wondered what would happen if the Pope unilaterally declared the Feast of the Incarnation, Christmas, was henceforth changed to May the 25th?
My guess is, after the initial shock, we would continue to be subsumed by a purchasing frenzy between the fourth Thursday in November and the last week in December. We would dub it a mid-winter holiday or some other name.
But why change the date? Most scholars agree, Jesus was not born in the winter but born in the Springtime. Scholars also agree there is no record that the Early Church celebrated a birth feast. It was not celebrated until the 4th Century. The implication is that, for the early church, the center of their faith lay not in the Incarnation, but elsewhere.
But as to this placement of this feast, we do know ancient Rome had a winter solstice celebration, celebrating the return of the sun. On the Roman calendar the solstice was December the 25th. It’s likely Christians adopted and adapted this date to celebrate the birth of the Messiah, as we claim Jesus to be the Messiah and the light of God born into our lives. (Slight pause.)
And these are the words of the first two verses of Psalm 93: “Yahweh reigns, robed in splendor; / You are robed, Yahweh, girded with strength. / Yahweh has established the world; / it stands firm; / it shall never be moved; / Indeed, Your seat, / Your reign is established from of old, / from ages past; / from everlasting to everlasting / from eternity You exist.” (Slight pause.)
As was mentioned at the start of the service next week, with the First Sunday in Advent, we shall begin the new church year. But what is this season of Advent about? How does it relate to Christmas?
Why do we celebrate it as the beginning of the year? How does this connect with the Messiah and why do we go on shopping sprees around this time? (Slight pause.)
The four Gospels are Mark, Matthew, Luke and John. You probably noticed I did not recite them in the same order you find in the New Testament. I recited them in the order they were composed.
Among the Synoptic Gospels, Mark was written for a Jewish community, probably no earlier than the year 70 of the Common Era, at least 35 years after the resurrection. Matthew was written in Roman Syria for a Jewish/Christian community probably around 85 or 90 and Luke, probably a little later, written for a Greek community.
Notice, these are all written to different communities, different audiences, at different times. They are all really very different. There are birth narratives in two of them: Matthew and Luke. There are significant differences in these birth narratives. In Luke Mary and Joseph are pictured as being poor. In Matthew, they seem to have had some means.
There is no star over the stable in Luke. The star is in Matthew. The stable is in Luke. There are no angelic announcements to shepherds in Matthew. But there are magi.
I can go on and on about the differences and how inappropriate it is that we merge the two stories. It is one of many proofs of how Biblically illiterate our society is. [1] (Slight pause.)
And then there is John. I often say there is a Christmas story— not a nativity story but a Christmas story— a Christmas story in the First Chapter of the Gospel according to the school of John. It reads this way (quote:) “In the beginning was the Word; the Word was with God, in the presence of God and the Word was God.” [2] (Slight pause.)
You see, the Christmas story is not about a birth of a child. Let me say that again: the Christmas story is not about a birth of a child. The Christmas story is about the in-breaking of God into our world.
And that brings us back to the Psalm and what the Season of Advent is about. The Season of Advent, you see, is also about the in-breaking of God into the world. It takes us down the road to that real Christmas story— the presence of God.
The Season of Advent is about the one God appointed the Messiah who recalls, refreshes and renews the ancient covenant which Yahweh, God, made with all people. This is the all forgiving God, a God of all mercy and all goodness, God whom we can more fully know— more fully know— in Christ, in Jesus.
And so, Jesus, who is the Christ, is the gift of God to all humanity. Hence, from the perspective of faith, giving gifts at this time of year is meant not as a shopping spree. It is meant to recall the greatest gift God gives us: Jesus, who is the Christ, the Messiah. (Slight pause.)
As I suggested earlier, I am not against shopping at Christmas. I understand the needs of the economy. But I do wonder if it might be productive to think about why any gift is given.
If a gift is given to impress someone, please do go buy something lavish. It might work and it will help the economy. But there might be other ways to impress. Perhaps one way is to set aside a portion of what you have budgeted to do something like this: make a donation in someone’s honor to a church or a charity.
Or, on Christmas Day, visit a fire station or the emergency room at the hospital, someplace where people need to work on that day for the protection of everyone. Drop off some cookies and say “thank you” to those staffing that facility.
In short, we need to remember what Advent and Christmas are really about. They are really about the coming of the Messiah, the presence of Christ.
So, shopping may be exciting or depressing, depending on your viewpoint. Either way, it is temporal. What we really need to be addressing with the seasons of Advent and Christmas is the eternal not the temporal.
You see, God who is (quote): “from everlasting to everlasting...” transcends our limited view, our temporal view. And God, because of the Christ, invites us to participate in the Dominion of God. God, through Christ, invites us to participate in eternal life. Amen.
11/25/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Miroslav Volf is a Professor of Theology at Yale Divinity School. He has said this about giving thanks: I am (quote:) ‘Grateful— not first of all for all the good things, not even for life itself, but for the Giver of all gifts.” I want to suggest that Thanksgiving, Advent and Christmas are about this: giving thanks for the Giver of all gifts.”
BENEDICTION: Let us receive the gifts of God’s grace and peace. Let us rejoice in the freedom to love as Jesus loved. Let the spirit of God speak through us today. Go forth and reach out to everyone you meet in the name of Christ. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] When the reading from Revelation was heard, the following was a part of the introduction offered by the Liturgist: “Biblical prophecy has little to do with a foretelling of the future, but has to do with speaking the truth of the Word of God. It should, however, be noted that in our society many take this work to be prophetic in the non-Biblical sense, meaning they take it to be a foretelling of the future. Perhaps all this suggests is that we have a very Biblically illiterate society and society, generally, claims otherwise.”
[2] John 1:1 [ILV]
The Prime Mover
(When we read the Psalm we read it as an Antiphonal reading. As such, some words were slightly altered. These are the words of the first two verses of Psalm 93 as they are found in the Inclusive Language Version:) “Yahweh reigns, robed in splendor; / You are robed, Yahweh, girded with strength. / Yahweh has established the world; / it stands firm; / it shall never be moved; / Indeed, Your seat, / Your reign is established from of old, / from ages past; / from everlasting to everlasting / from eternity You exist.” — Psalm 93:1-2.
Suppose all the sales in all the stores on Black Friday went off on schedule and no one showed up? As you know, the day after Thanksgiving is commonly known as Black Friday. And as has been widely reported, shoppers crowd into stores as the doors open.
Bonnie and I have spent the last two Thanksgivings in the Saranac Lake area with my brother’s family. If you think Norwich is small, Saranac Lake is even smaller. There are no malls, Target stores or Walmarts.
Last year there was a “Black Friday” sale item I wanted at Radio Shack. As it happens and despite its diminutive size, Saranac Lake has a Radio Shack. The advertisement said the doors opened at 5:30 a.m.
Thinking we were a little late and the store would be sold out of the item, Bonnie and I got out of the house at about 5:15 and, as fast as we could, drove five miles to downtown Saranac Lake, making it just before the that 5:30 deadline.
Were there big crowds? No. There were two people in line. After all, it is Saranac Lake— small, small town America.
This year my brother wanted something at Radio Shack. So, given that we knew we did not have to be there exactly when the store opened. We got there at about 6:05, a half hour, a little more, after the opening time. We were the first customers. They had seen no one before us.
We asked the manager if he expected to see any crowd. “Yep,” he said. “When people get finished with the big stores down Plattsburgh way. We usually see a surge about, oh, 11:00 a.m. or so.”
Rumor to the contrary, year after year, the day which, on average, has the highest gross sales is not Black Friday but one of the days between the 16th and the 22nd of December, one of those seven days. Further, in more northern climates if it snows— not a heavy snow, just enough to remind people of the season, perhaps a little like last night— if it snows sometime in that stretch that will be the day with the highest sales.
Now, I’m not saying people shouldn’t shop. On a very practical level, I get it. Shopping at this time of year— and let’s call it what it is— Christmas shopping— all this Christmas shopping is an economic engine our economy would have a hard time replacing.
On the other hand, I do have an interesting fantasy about the link between Christmas and shopping. I have often wondered what would happen if the Pope— and with the centralized power of the Papacy the Pope is the only one who could do this— I have often wondered what would happen if the Pope unilaterally declared the Feast of the Incarnation, Christmas, was henceforth changed to May the 25th?
My guess is, after the initial shock, we would continue to be subsumed by a purchasing frenzy between the fourth Thursday in November and the last week in December. We would dub it a mid-winter holiday or some other name.
But why change the date? Most scholars agree, Jesus was not born in the winter but born in the Springtime. Scholars also agree there is no record that the Early Church celebrated a birth feast. It was not celebrated until the 4th Century. The implication is that, for the early church, the center of their faith lay not in the Incarnation, but elsewhere.
But as to this placement of this feast, we do know ancient Rome had a winter solstice celebration, celebrating the return of the sun. On the Roman calendar the solstice was December the 25th. It’s likely Christians adopted and adapted this date to celebrate the birth of the Messiah, as we claim Jesus to be the Messiah and the light of God born into our lives. (Slight pause.)
And these are the words of the first two verses of Psalm 93: “Yahweh reigns, robed in splendor; / You are robed, Yahweh, girded with strength. / Yahweh has established the world; / it stands firm; / it shall never be moved; / Indeed, Your seat, / Your reign is established from of old, / from ages past; / from everlasting to everlasting / from eternity You exist.” (Slight pause.)
As was mentioned at the start of the service next week, with the First Sunday in Advent, we shall begin the new church year. But what is this season of Advent about? How does it relate to Christmas?
Why do we celebrate it as the beginning of the year? How does this connect with the Messiah and why do we go on shopping sprees around this time? (Slight pause.)
The four Gospels are Mark, Matthew, Luke and John. You probably noticed I did not recite them in the same order you find in the New Testament. I recited them in the order they were composed.
Among the Synoptic Gospels, Mark was written for a Jewish community, probably no earlier than the year 70 of the Common Era, at least 35 years after the resurrection. Matthew was written in Roman Syria for a Jewish/Christian community probably around 85 or 90 and Luke, probably a little later, written for a Greek community.
Notice, these are all written to different communities, different audiences, at different times. They are all really very different. There are birth narratives in two of them: Matthew and Luke. There are significant differences in these birth narratives. In Luke Mary and Joseph are pictured as being poor. In Matthew, they seem to have had some means.
There is no star over the stable in Luke. The star is in Matthew. The stable is in Luke. There are no angelic announcements to shepherds in Matthew. But there are magi.
I can go on and on about the differences and how inappropriate it is that we merge the two stories. It is one of many proofs of how Biblically illiterate our society is. [1] (Slight pause.)
And then there is John. I often say there is a Christmas story— not a nativity story but a Christmas story— a Christmas story in the First Chapter of the Gospel according to the school of John. It reads this way (quote:) “In the beginning was the Word; the Word was with God, in the presence of God and the Word was God.” [2] (Slight pause.)
You see, the Christmas story is not about a birth of a child. Let me say that again: the Christmas story is not about a birth of a child. The Christmas story is about the in-breaking of God into our world.
And that brings us back to the Psalm and what the Season of Advent is about. The Season of Advent, you see, is also about the in-breaking of God into the world. It takes us down the road to that real Christmas story— the presence of God.
The Season of Advent is about the one God appointed the Messiah who recalls, refreshes and renews the ancient covenant which Yahweh, God, made with all people. This is the all forgiving God, a God of all mercy and all goodness, God whom we can more fully know— more fully know— in Christ, in Jesus.
And so, Jesus, who is the Christ, is the gift of God to all humanity. Hence, from the perspective of faith, giving gifts at this time of year is meant not as a shopping spree. It is meant to recall the greatest gift God gives us: Jesus, who is the Christ, the Messiah. (Slight pause.)
As I suggested earlier, I am not against shopping at Christmas. I understand the needs of the economy. But I do wonder if it might be productive to think about why any gift is given.
If a gift is given to impress someone, please do go buy something lavish. It might work and it will help the economy. But there might be other ways to impress. Perhaps one way is to set aside a portion of what you have budgeted to do something like this: make a donation in someone’s honor to a church or a charity.
Or, on Christmas Day, visit a fire station or the emergency room at the hospital, someplace where people need to work on that day for the protection of everyone. Drop off some cookies and say “thank you” to those staffing that facility.
In short, we need to remember what Advent and Christmas are really about. They are really about the coming of the Messiah, the presence of Christ.
So, shopping may be exciting or depressing, depending on your viewpoint. Either way, it is temporal. What we really need to be addressing with the seasons of Advent and Christmas is the eternal not the temporal.
You see, God who is (quote): “from everlasting to everlasting...” transcends our limited view, our temporal view. And God, because of the Christ, invites us to participate in the Dominion of God. God, through Christ, invites us to participate in eternal life. Amen.
11/25/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Miroslav Volf is a Professor of Theology at Yale Divinity School. He has said this about giving thanks: I am (quote:) ‘Grateful— not first of all for all the good things, not even for life itself, but for the Giver of all gifts.” I want to suggest that Thanksgiving, Advent and Christmas are about this: giving thanks for the Giver of all gifts.”
BENEDICTION: Let us receive the gifts of God’s grace and peace. Let us rejoice in the freedom to love as Jesus loved. Let the spirit of God speak through us today. Go forth and reach out to everyone you meet in the name of Christ. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] When the reading from Revelation was heard, the following was a part of the introduction offered by the Liturgist: “Biblical prophecy has little to do with a foretelling of the future, but has to do with speaking the truth of the Word of God. It should, however, be noted that in our society many take this work to be prophetic in the non-Biblical sense, meaning they take it to be a foretelling of the future. Perhaps all this suggests is that we have a very Biblically illiterate society and society, generally, claims otherwise.”
[2] John 1:1 [ILV]
Sunday, November 18, 2012
SERMON ~ 11/18/2012 ~ Covenant Wholeness
11/18/2012 ~ Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost ~ Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 28) ~ 1 Samuel 1:4-20; (Instead of the Psalm) 1 Samuel 2:1-10; Daniel 12:1-3; Psalm 16; Hebrews 10:11-14, (15-18), 19-25; Mark 13:1-8 ~ The Sunday Before Thanksgiving.
Covenant Wholeness
“This is the covenant I will make with them / in those days, says our God: / I will put my laws in their hearts, / and I write them on their minds,” / then adds, / “I will never again remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses.” — Hebrews 10:16-17.
A friend has this sign hanging in her office: “We were all put on God’s good earth to accomplish a finite amount of work.” (Slight pause.) “I am so far behind I may never die.”
Sometimes I see the truth of that aphorism about two or three times a week. Indeed, I occasionally say I live my life based on triage.
The word triage first injected itself into our language during World War I. It was a process used in battlefield hospitals for sorting injured people into groups based on a need for and likely benefit from immediate treatment when available medical resources had to be rationed. In short: triage meant those who made these choices about medical care were playing God. Whose life would you try to save?
Triage has now come to be used in a less intimidating way. It’s not so much about playing God as it is about simply making choices. Thereby, the word asks a straightforward question: what is it which absolutely, positively has to get done next?
Whatever that is, whatever choice you make, drop everything else. Do that one thing. Get it done. Step two: once again ask what absolutely, positively has to get done next. Repeat the process. (Slight pause.)
The problem with that procedure is it’s actually unsustainable. It’s unsustainable not because the procedure fails to be successful. It is quite successful. Important things get done. The process is unsustainable because, eventually, its only by-product is guilt.
You see, when you’re always asking what absolutely, positively has to get done next, a realization slowly builds. It’s the realization that you fully well know what is not getting done. That’s because you fully well know what you’re laying aside.
That’s when you realize two other things: first, you are probably trying to do way too much. Second: because you believe you can do that much— don’t kid yourself, you can’t do anywhere near that much— because you are trying to do that much what you really are trying to play God.
So, what happens next? Guilt sets in. And maybe, just maybe, the biggest problem with guilt is it can immobilize.
An article in the New York Times this week said Hurricane Sandy made plain dividing lines in New York. It is a city long fractured by class, race, ethnicity, geography and culture.
Folks who live in upscale neighborhoods and who may not have thought much about the brick public housing complexes scattered around the boroughs, suddenly found themselves inside those buildings trying to help. They found themselves trudging up unlit stairwells, inquiring about the well-being of mostly impoverished residents.
The truth is some who live in trendy housing are more familiar with poverty from their travels to the so called “third world” than from any explorations within their own hometown. Hence, deep pangs of guilt have been discovered among piles of donated clothing as these folks come face to face with some of the misery that existed close to home even before the storm.[1]
Should they let that guilt immobilize them? Or should they start to tackle a problem which has been sitting in front of them all this time. (Slight pause.)
And these words are from the work known as Hebrews: “This is the covenant I will make with them / in those days, says our God: / I will put my laws in their hearts, / and I write them on their minds,” / then adds, / “I will never again remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses.” (Slight pause.)
The issue of guilt came up in our Bible Study on Wednesday night. After all, if God will never again (quote): “...remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses” why worry? Do whatever you want; it won’t matter.
And also, isn’t it true that people can be shamed into action? So isn’t guilt productive? Therefore, why would God not remember? (Slight pause.)
Is God not into guilt? After all, those television preachers say God is into guilt. (Slight pause.)
Scholars agree the work known as Hebrews is not written by Paul but by a disciple of Paul. But they also agree it is written to an audience of Jewish people. Hence, its most important project is to unpack the Law and the Prophets.
So, the writer of the Epistle uses one of the most important passages in Jeremiah, the one about writing the covenant on the hearts of the people. Besides restating the covenant, that passage insists deeds of destruction, offenses— what we commonly call sin— will not be remembered. And this is a part of the covenant.
The point made is two-fold: first, this recalls the deepest meaning of the covenant: that God stands with us always, no matter what our circumstances. Second, this covenant is renewed and revealed fully in Christ, Jesus. (Slight pause.)
God stands with us always. So, does that mean ‘why worry?’ Does that mean ‘do whatever you want; it won’t matter?’
And what about shame? People can be shamed into doing things. So, isn’t guilt productive? (Slight pause.)
We are human. I doubt guilt will ever be a commodity we can banish. And, given my Irish Catholic background, I am fairly confident in making that statement. Irish Catholics know a lot about guilt.
But a deeper question, aside from the reality of guilt, is this: from a psychological perspective, is guilt healthy? Is guilt not just another way of saying we can eventually do everything perfect. We can eventually do everything right?
Is guilt not just another way saying we should be in control. Is guilt not just another way saying we can be— can be... God? (Slight pause.)
Then, of course, there is the theological claim about Christ made by Hebrews. The covenant, expressed in and with fulness by the Christ, claims we are not perfect. The covenant says we are not God. And the covenant says the reality of God, the reality of the covenant, the reality of Christ, makes us whole. (Slight pause.)
In several minutes we will dedicate the Operation Christmas Child boxes. Are we doing that, are we making contributions, giving presents out of our own guilt, guilt that there are children in far off places who daily live in poverty?
Does our guilt about that say this is something we should do? Or should this dedication be a symbol that we stand in solidarity with these children? (Slight pause.)
I think the problem among many with guilt is not just that it is an psychologically unhealthy response. The problem with guilt is, eventually, it demands not action but inaction.
You see, guilt actually makes the claim that we are God, that we can be perfect, that we can do everything and that we know all the right answers. This— this— is a debilitating claim, if there ever was one. If we recognize the demands made by a guilt which lays claim on what we are not doing, at some point the demands made by that kind of guilt must, by definition, overwhelm us.
This love God, love neighbor I constantly talk about, realizes we are not perfect, we can’t do everything and we don’t know all the right answers. In short, loving God and loving neighbors demands that we trust God and trust our neighbors. It demands we rely on God and rely on neighbors.
Will trusting God and trusting our neighbors banish guilt? Take it from this old Irish Catholic: no. But loving God and loving neighbor will feed us far more than guilt ever will, because we will come to realize God stands in solidarity with us. Therefore, we eventually realize we need to stand in solidarity with our neighbors.
And who are our neighbors? Perhaps the question needs to be posed this way: if God asked us to name our neighbors, what would we say? Who would we name? Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “When I was in seminary often acted as a substitute preacher for pastors who were taking a Sunday off. Sometimes I was required to come up with a sermon title weeks in advance. I still do that. I think I do it because the title gives me a focus. The title this week, is Covenant Wholeness. And that’s what the covenant is about: that we are made whole by God. And there needs to be no guilt in being made whole by God.”
BENEDICTION: Go forth in faith. Go forth trusting that God will provide. God forth and reach out to everyone you meet in the name of Christ. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] NY Times — http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/17/nyregion/after-hurricane-sandy-helping-hands-also-expose-a-new-york-divide.html?emc=tnt&tntemail0=y
Covenant Wholeness
“This is the covenant I will make with them / in those days, says our God: / I will put my laws in their hearts, / and I write them on their minds,” / then adds, / “I will never again remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses.” — Hebrews 10:16-17.
A friend has this sign hanging in her office: “We were all put on God’s good earth to accomplish a finite amount of work.” (Slight pause.) “I am so far behind I may never die.”
Sometimes I see the truth of that aphorism about two or three times a week. Indeed, I occasionally say I live my life based on triage.
The word triage first injected itself into our language during World War I. It was a process used in battlefield hospitals for sorting injured people into groups based on a need for and likely benefit from immediate treatment when available medical resources had to be rationed. In short: triage meant those who made these choices about medical care were playing God. Whose life would you try to save?
Triage has now come to be used in a less intimidating way. It’s not so much about playing God as it is about simply making choices. Thereby, the word asks a straightforward question: what is it which absolutely, positively has to get done next?
Whatever that is, whatever choice you make, drop everything else. Do that one thing. Get it done. Step two: once again ask what absolutely, positively has to get done next. Repeat the process. (Slight pause.)
The problem with that procedure is it’s actually unsustainable. It’s unsustainable not because the procedure fails to be successful. It is quite successful. Important things get done. The process is unsustainable because, eventually, its only by-product is guilt.
You see, when you’re always asking what absolutely, positively has to get done next, a realization slowly builds. It’s the realization that you fully well know what is not getting done. That’s because you fully well know what you’re laying aside.
That’s when you realize two other things: first, you are probably trying to do way too much. Second: because you believe you can do that much— don’t kid yourself, you can’t do anywhere near that much— because you are trying to do that much what you really are trying to play God.
So, what happens next? Guilt sets in. And maybe, just maybe, the biggest problem with guilt is it can immobilize.
An article in the New York Times this week said Hurricane Sandy made plain dividing lines in New York. It is a city long fractured by class, race, ethnicity, geography and culture.
Folks who live in upscale neighborhoods and who may not have thought much about the brick public housing complexes scattered around the boroughs, suddenly found themselves inside those buildings trying to help. They found themselves trudging up unlit stairwells, inquiring about the well-being of mostly impoverished residents.
The truth is some who live in trendy housing are more familiar with poverty from their travels to the so called “third world” than from any explorations within their own hometown. Hence, deep pangs of guilt have been discovered among piles of donated clothing as these folks come face to face with some of the misery that existed close to home even before the storm.[1]
Should they let that guilt immobilize them? Or should they start to tackle a problem which has been sitting in front of them all this time. (Slight pause.)
And these words are from the work known as Hebrews: “This is the covenant I will make with them / in those days, says our God: / I will put my laws in their hearts, / and I write them on their minds,” / then adds, / “I will never again remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses.” (Slight pause.)
The issue of guilt came up in our Bible Study on Wednesday night. After all, if God will never again (quote): “...remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses” why worry? Do whatever you want; it won’t matter.
And also, isn’t it true that people can be shamed into action? So isn’t guilt productive? Therefore, why would God not remember? (Slight pause.)
Is God not into guilt? After all, those television preachers say God is into guilt. (Slight pause.)
Scholars agree the work known as Hebrews is not written by Paul but by a disciple of Paul. But they also agree it is written to an audience of Jewish people. Hence, its most important project is to unpack the Law and the Prophets.
So, the writer of the Epistle uses one of the most important passages in Jeremiah, the one about writing the covenant on the hearts of the people. Besides restating the covenant, that passage insists deeds of destruction, offenses— what we commonly call sin— will not be remembered. And this is a part of the covenant.
The point made is two-fold: first, this recalls the deepest meaning of the covenant: that God stands with us always, no matter what our circumstances. Second, this covenant is renewed and revealed fully in Christ, Jesus. (Slight pause.)
God stands with us always. So, does that mean ‘why worry?’ Does that mean ‘do whatever you want; it won’t matter?’
And what about shame? People can be shamed into doing things. So, isn’t guilt productive? (Slight pause.)
We are human. I doubt guilt will ever be a commodity we can banish. And, given my Irish Catholic background, I am fairly confident in making that statement. Irish Catholics know a lot about guilt.
But a deeper question, aside from the reality of guilt, is this: from a psychological perspective, is guilt healthy? Is guilt not just another way of saying we can eventually do everything perfect. We can eventually do everything right?
Is guilt not just another way saying we should be in control. Is guilt not just another way saying we can be— can be... God? (Slight pause.)
Then, of course, there is the theological claim about Christ made by Hebrews. The covenant, expressed in and with fulness by the Christ, claims we are not perfect. The covenant says we are not God. And the covenant says the reality of God, the reality of the covenant, the reality of Christ, makes us whole. (Slight pause.)
In several minutes we will dedicate the Operation Christmas Child boxes. Are we doing that, are we making contributions, giving presents out of our own guilt, guilt that there are children in far off places who daily live in poverty?
Does our guilt about that say this is something we should do? Or should this dedication be a symbol that we stand in solidarity with these children? (Slight pause.)
I think the problem among many with guilt is not just that it is an psychologically unhealthy response. The problem with guilt is, eventually, it demands not action but inaction.
You see, guilt actually makes the claim that we are God, that we can be perfect, that we can do everything and that we know all the right answers. This— this— is a debilitating claim, if there ever was one. If we recognize the demands made by a guilt which lays claim on what we are not doing, at some point the demands made by that kind of guilt must, by definition, overwhelm us.
This love God, love neighbor I constantly talk about, realizes we are not perfect, we can’t do everything and we don’t know all the right answers. In short, loving God and loving neighbors demands that we trust God and trust our neighbors. It demands we rely on God and rely on neighbors.
Will trusting God and trusting our neighbors banish guilt? Take it from this old Irish Catholic: no. But loving God and loving neighbor will feed us far more than guilt ever will, because we will come to realize God stands in solidarity with us. Therefore, we eventually realize we need to stand in solidarity with our neighbors.
And who are our neighbors? Perhaps the question needs to be posed this way: if God asked us to name our neighbors, what would we say? Who would we name? Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “When I was in seminary often acted as a substitute preacher for pastors who were taking a Sunday off. Sometimes I was required to come up with a sermon title weeks in advance. I still do that. I think I do it because the title gives me a focus. The title this week, is Covenant Wholeness. And that’s what the covenant is about: that we are made whole by God. And there needs to be no guilt in being made whole by God.”
BENEDICTION: Go forth in faith. Go forth trusting that God will provide. God forth and reach out to everyone you meet in the name of Christ. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] NY Times — http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/17/nyregion/after-hurricane-sandy-helping-hands-also-expose-a-new-york-divide.html?emc=tnt&tntemail0=y
Monday, November 12, 2012
SERMON ~ 11/11/2012 ~ It's Not About Money
11/11/2012 ~ Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost ~ Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 27) ~ Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17; Psalm 127; 1 Kings 17:8-16; Psalm 146; Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44 ~ Stewardship Sunday ~ Veterans Day.
It’s Not About Money
“...Jesus sat down opposite the collection box at the Temple, and watched people putting money into it. Many rich people put in large sums. But a poor widow came and put in two small coins, worth a very small amount.’” — Mark 12:41-42.
A couple of Presidential election cycles back, 1992 to be precise— and I find this hard to believe but if you count this year as one Presidential election cycle and then count back, 1992 is six Presidential election cycles in the past— six! Where did time go when I wasn’t looking? So, six Presidential election cycles back, this slogan was made famous: “It’s the economy, stupid.”
Of course, those were not the actual words the campaign used. Those were simply the words which became famous. The words actually used by the campaign were slightly different.
The words on the sign in the Clinton campaign headquarters in Little Rock, Arkansas— Bill Clinton’s first campaign being the one I’m referencing here— the words were a tad more simple, perhaps even more direct: “The economy, stupid.” Notice, it’s not “It’s the...” but just “The economy, stupid.” And, taken a different way, sometimes it feels like the economy is stupid, doesn’t it. Or, at least it does not make any sense to most of us at all, ever. Perhaps the economy makes no sense because for us the economy seems stupid. You see, the economy is, by far, too complex for most of us to understand. And maybe that’s the real problem.
How complex is the economy? It is so complex, the Nobel Prize Committee... hold it! How complex is the economy? (The pastor gestures at the congregation inviting a response and the congregation does respond with “How complex is the economy?” but you cannot really hear that on the audio of this sermon.) O.K. Thank you! It is so complex, the Nobel Prize Committee gives out awards to academics who can actually explain something, anything about the economy. (Slight pause.)
I think one of the big mistakes made when people refer to the passage from Mark about the widow and the contribution to the treasury of the Temple is we start with the presumption that it is, in one sense, about the economy. Or at least we make a presumption that it is about our economy, the economic means and methods of the individual.
In short, we make the mistake that this passage is about money. Indeed, there is a second mistake people make when addressing this passage. Some insist it’s about giving money to the church.
The fact that money is mentioned is probably why the Revised Common Lectionary Committee— yes, the assigned lections are drawn up by a committee— that money is mentioned is probably why the Revised Common Lectionary Committee assigns readings which mention money at this juncture in the year. They are very aware most churches are engaged in the budget making process right now.
So, in a real sense, they— the committee— make a similar mistake. Since churches are looking at financial issues, they put in a reading which, on the surface, appears to be about money.
After all, these readings which mention money must be about money, right? No. Not right. And therefore, what is really happening is the lectionary committee is leaving it up to the local pastor to make a connection between money and the reading since the churches probably needs to be talking about money right now. Well, me, the local pastor, I am not going to tell you this is about money. This passage is not about money. Case closed. (Slight pause.)
And these words in that Gospel we know as Mark: “...Jesus sat down opposite the collection box at the Temple, and watched people putting money into it. Many rich people put in large sums. But a poor widow came and put in two small coins, worth a very small amount.’” (Slight pause.)
As I just said, this story is not about money. Rather, it recalls the idea that if we do anything that place apart from our relationship with God we are on dangerous ground. Indeed, anything we do which takes place apart from a relationship with one another is dangerous ground.
The fact that our culture seems to take this story as being about money makes a claim that our culture, we, actually believe money is about relationship. Money is not about relationship. On the other hand, how often have you heard someone say, ‘Hey! Put your money where your mouth is’?
What should seem obvious, just based on that old saying, is our culture uses money in place of relationship, as a measure of relationship and even to replace what true relationship might be, what true relationship might mean. Please do not misunderstand me. I would never say money is unimportant. I am saying money is misused. (Slight pause.) Relationship, relationship, relationship— that’s the important part. (Slight pause.)
Now, when I said earlier that (quote:) ‘It’s the economy stupid’ was not really the sign in the Clinton election office, similarly, there is something often quoted that our culture thinks Scripture says. But it cannot be found in Scripture. Here’s what our culture thinks Scripture says: ‘Money is the root of all evil.’ Go ahead, find that somewhere in the Bible. If you find it, that’s a really bad translation.
What you will really find is this (quote): “Love of money is the root of all evil.” See the difference? Not money— love of money.
And, yes, when we love money we have transformed it from merely being a tool into a weapon of destruction. When we love money we use it not as the tool for the good it can do but as a cudgel, a club for inflicting our will on others.
Therefore and to reiterate: this passage is not about money and equally is not about harming people. This passage is about helping people. It is about helping people toward a full relationship with God and each other. (Slight pause.)
In a couple moments you will be invited to make a pledge to the church. Making a pledge, especially in this church, is not about money.
Money is simply a tool. Some of us have that tool. Some of us do not. In the case of this church, we use that tool— money— whatever money we get— to help people however and whenever we can. We recognize it as a tool. We make every effort to not use it as a weapon, as a cudgel. (Slight pause.)
In any case, perhaps the real message to take away from this reading is, you— each of you is more important than money, way more important. You, each of you alone and all of us together, make this a church. And we are a church.
We are not a historical preservation society. We are a community of faith. And as a community of faith, we strive to do what we are called by God to do. WE strive to help people. And, yes, we are a church who has been know to use the tool called money in ways which we, at least, hope are positive.
All of which is to say, when we do have this ceremony later, please keep this in mind: pledge what you can. But love God and love neighbor. That is a pledge we can all make and, given the grace God offers, that is a pledge we can all keep. Amen.
11/11/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I saw this aphorism on Facebook yesterday (quote): ‘You can make a wish or you could make it happen.’ Wishing makes nothing happen. Together, in relationship with one another, we can make all kinds of things happen. And maybe, just maybe, with some of what we do give to the church in that tool called money next year we can make some wishes come true by helping people. What is the short version of this sentiment? We’re all in this together. Hold hands. Move forward. Don’t look back.”
BENEDICTION: Let us lay aside anxious toil. Let us give our lives over to the One who grants life. Let us be open to the possibility that the whole of our being should rest in the will and wisdom of God and that the whole of our being should rest in the ways of love taught by God. In short, let us trust God. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ be among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
It’s Not About Money
“...Jesus sat down opposite the collection box at the Temple, and watched people putting money into it. Many rich people put in large sums. But a poor widow came and put in two small coins, worth a very small amount.’” — Mark 12:41-42.
A couple of Presidential election cycles back, 1992 to be precise— and I find this hard to believe but if you count this year as one Presidential election cycle and then count back, 1992 is six Presidential election cycles in the past— six! Where did time go when I wasn’t looking? So, six Presidential election cycles back, this slogan was made famous: “It’s the economy, stupid.”
Of course, those were not the actual words the campaign used. Those were simply the words which became famous. The words actually used by the campaign were slightly different.
The words on the sign in the Clinton campaign headquarters in Little Rock, Arkansas— Bill Clinton’s first campaign being the one I’m referencing here— the words were a tad more simple, perhaps even more direct: “The economy, stupid.” Notice, it’s not “It’s the...” but just “The economy, stupid.” And, taken a different way, sometimes it feels like the economy is stupid, doesn’t it. Or, at least it does not make any sense to most of us at all, ever. Perhaps the economy makes no sense because for us the economy seems stupid. You see, the economy is, by far, too complex for most of us to understand. And maybe that’s the real problem.
How complex is the economy? It is so complex, the Nobel Prize Committee... hold it! How complex is the economy? (The pastor gestures at the congregation inviting a response and the congregation does respond with “How complex is the economy?” but you cannot really hear that on the audio of this sermon.) O.K. Thank you! It is so complex, the Nobel Prize Committee gives out awards to academics who can actually explain something, anything about the economy. (Slight pause.)
I think one of the big mistakes made when people refer to the passage from Mark about the widow and the contribution to the treasury of the Temple is we start with the presumption that it is, in one sense, about the economy. Or at least we make a presumption that it is about our economy, the economic means and methods of the individual.
In short, we make the mistake that this passage is about money. Indeed, there is a second mistake people make when addressing this passage. Some insist it’s about giving money to the church.
The fact that money is mentioned is probably why the Revised Common Lectionary Committee— yes, the assigned lections are drawn up by a committee— that money is mentioned is probably why the Revised Common Lectionary Committee assigns readings which mention money at this juncture in the year. They are very aware most churches are engaged in the budget making process right now.
So, in a real sense, they— the committee— make a similar mistake. Since churches are looking at financial issues, they put in a reading which, on the surface, appears to be about money.
After all, these readings which mention money must be about money, right? No. Not right. And therefore, what is really happening is the lectionary committee is leaving it up to the local pastor to make a connection between money and the reading since the churches probably needs to be talking about money right now. Well, me, the local pastor, I am not going to tell you this is about money. This passage is not about money. Case closed. (Slight pause.)
And these words in that Gospel we know as Mark: “...Jesus sat down opposite the collection box at the Temple, and watched people putting money into it. Many rich people put in large sums. But a poor widow came and put in two small coins, worth a very small amount.’” (Slight pause.)
As I just said, this story is not about money. Rather, it recalls the idea that if we do anything that place apart from our relationship with God we are on dangerous ground. Indeed, anything we do which takes place apart from a relationship with one another is dangerous ground.
The fact that our culture seems to take this story as being about money makes a claim that our culture, we, actually believe money is about relationship. Money is not about relationship. On the other hand, how often have you heard someone say, ‘Hey! Put your money where your mouth is’?
What should seem obvious, just based on that old saying, is our culture uses money in place of relationship, as a measure of relationship and even to replace what true relationship might be, what true relationship might mean. Please do not misunderstand me. I would never say money is unimportant. I am saying money is misused. (Slight pause.) Relationship, relationship, relationship— that’s the important part. (Slight pause.)
Now, when I said earlier that (quote:) ‘It’s the economy stupid’ was not really the sign in the Clinton election office, similarly, there is something often quoted that our culture thinks Scripture says. But it cannot be found in Scripture. Here’s what our culture thinks Scripture says: ‘Money is the root of all evil.’ Go ahead, find that somewhere in the Bible. If you find it, that’s a really bad translation.
What you will really find is this (quote): “Love of money is the root of all evil.” See the difference? Not money— love of money.
And, yes, when we love money we have transformed it from merely being a tool into a weapon of destruction. When we love money we use it not as the tool for the good it can do but as a cudgel, a club for inflicting our will on others.
Therefore and to reiterate: this passage is not about money and equally is not about harming people. This passage is about helping people. It is about helping people toward a full relationship with God and each other. (Slight pause.)
In a couple moments you will be invited to make a pledge to the church. Making a pledge, especially in this church, is not about money.
Money is simply a tool. Some of us have that tool. Some of us do not. In the case of this church, we use that tool— money— whatever money we get— to help people however and whenever we can. We recognize it as a tool. We make every effort to not use it as a weapon, as a cudgel. (Slight pause.)
In any case, perhaps the real message to take away from this reading is, you— each of you is more important than money, way more important. You, each of you alone and all of us together, make this a church. And we are a church.
We are not a historical preservation society. We are a community of faith. And as a community of faith, we strive to do what we are called by God to do. WE strive to help people. And, yes, we are a church who has been know to use the tool called money in ways which we, at least, hope are positive.
All of which is to say, when we do have this ceremony later, please keep this in mind: pledge what you can. But love God and love neighbor. That is a pledge we can all make and, given the grace God offers, that is a pledge we can all keep. Amen.
11/11/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I saw this aphorism on Facebook yesterday (quote): ‘You can make a wish or you could make it happen.’ Wishing makes nothing happen. Together, in relationship with one another, we can make all kinds of things happen. And maybe, just maybe, with some of what we do give to the church in that tool called money next year we can make some wishes come true by helping people. What is the short version of this sentiment? We’re all in this together. Hold hands. Move forward. Don’t look back.”
BENEDICTION: Let us lay aside anxious toil. Let us give our lives over to the One who grants life. Let us be open to the possibility that the whole of our being should rest in the will and wisdom of God and that the whole of our being should rest in the ways of love taught by God. In short, let us trust God. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ be among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
SERMON ~ 11/04/2012 ~ The Shema and the Reality of God
11/04/2012 ~ (If All Saints not observed on this day) Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost ~ Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 26) ~ Ruth 1:1-18; Psalm 146; Deuteronomy 6:1-9; Psalm 119:1-8; Hebrews 9:11-14; Mark 12:28-34 ~ Communion Sunday ~ 11/01/2012 ~ All Saints Day ~ (Sometimes observed on first Sunday in November) ~ Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9 or Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 24; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44.
“Hear, O Israel: / Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. / You are to love Yahweh, your God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.” — Deuteronomy 6:4-5.
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
My late uncle, after being drafted, became something of a beach bum, someone who chases the sun whenever he can. In part that was because he spent his entire time in the Army during World War II at Hickham Field in Hawaii, a place which may have the most beautiful beaches in the world.
I was not yet a teen when my family moved to the Woodhaven section of Queens in New York City. So, my uncle would, in the summer, drive his two nephews and his nice— myself, my brother and my sister— down to Rockaway Beach just eight miles south of where we lived, down Woodhaven Boulevard. It was his way of being good to us.
We would spend the day soaking up the sun and swimming. Later, still in our teens, my brother and I would, occasionally, ride our bikes the three plus miles South on Woodhaven Boulevard, through the community known as Howard Beach.
On the South side of Howard Beach we would visit a vast marshy area, what is now called Jamaica Bay Reserve. Then and now, it offered and offers a prime habitat for migratory birds and other wildlife.
Back then there was an ongoing fight about ownership of this natural wonder. Now it is part of the Gateway National Recreation Area. The majority of it is owned by the Federal Government and the City of New York.
This was the area, the place, at which and in which my Brother, Jim, first became interested in the environment. He now has a Master’s Degree in Environmental Science and works for the Adirondack Park Agency.
So, that community— Howard Beach— is one we visited and went through it all the time. A pastor friend of mine in New York City posted pictures on Facebook taken this week in Howard Beach. They were pictures of boats, large boats, sitting in people’s front yards and pictures of boats having breached the walls of houses— a stunning sight. [1] (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
The Upper West Side in New York City is and has been a haven of struggling artists. I counted myself among those in my early twenties. The Upper West Side is where I hung out.
Another picture I saw this week was of the West 86th Street Subway Station where I would get the Number One train, having left the apartment of David Schaefer, with whom I wrote a couple of hundred songs back then. In the picture water fills the Subway tracks to a level just below the platform— at best a frightening sight. (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
When I worked on Wall Street, I worked in the World Trade Center. Each year 9/11 is hard for me. Now, not only have I seen those buildings collapse. I have seen pictures of water from New York Harbor pouring into the construction site, into a part of the pit where those buildings stood. These images give me yet a heavier heart. (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
Halloween was celebrated this week. I’ve got nothing against Halloween. It’s fun. But it is made up. It means nothing. So it is well to remember nothing, in particular, is being celebrated other than eating too much candy and dressing up in things people would not otherwise wear, things which are sometimes even embarrassing.
You see, when Halloween rolls around each year I can’t help but think of this: my late mother was born in 1924, the daughter of a single mother. She grew up in poverty in Brooklyn, raised in the teeth of the Great Depression.
The children in her neighborhood went house to house to house for “Trick or Treat” not on Halloween but on Thanksgiving Day. At each door they would say “Trick or Treat— do you have anything for the ragamuffins?” Do you have anything for the ragamuffins? It might help to feed our family. (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
And these words are from the Tanakh in the section known as the Torah in the work we call Deuteronomy: “Hear, O Israel: / Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. / You are to love Yahweh, your God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.” (Slight pause.)
Most scholars agree: these words, known in Hebrew as the Shema or the great commandment, are the most important in all Scripture, the central point made in all Scripture, the place from which everything else flows. Why? These words are a concise explanation of who God is.
Indeed, these words are not just a proclamation but an explanation of God. God is the One to be loved with heart, mind and soul. And these words are not just a proclamation and an explanation, these words are actually in the form of an oath, an oath which attests to the reality of God.
The Hebrew Scriptures constantly attest to who God is, to what God does, to the reality of God. The second verse in Genesis says this about God creating the universe (quote): “...when the earth was unformed and void, wild and waste, filled with chaos and emptiness— chaos and emptiness— as night reigned over the surface of the deep, a wind from God, the rushing Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters.” (Slight pause.)
God, you see, is the One who brings order to chaos— order to chaos. But why— why with an oath— attest to this God who brings order to chaos? (Slight pause.)
I have some news for you. I believe God exists. I cannot prove God exists. Nor can anyone else prove God exists.
No prophet, priest, prelate, politician, pastor, primate, presbyter— none of them can prove God exists. Only one thing can insist God exists: faith. And for you— each of you— it is not my faith which can insist God exists. It is only your faith which can insist God exists.
Now, clearly some people will not be and are not comfortable with a fath that insists God exists. As for me, however, despite all the reality with which chaos presents itself, in the end I refuse to allow chaos to triumph.
Why? I believe in freedom. I believe in peace. I believe in joy. I believe in love. I believe in hope. I can see none of these. But they are real. And I believe each of these— freedom, peace, joy, love, hope— triumphs over chaos. (Slight pause.)
And oh, yes. I believe in God. I believe in God who insists on the reality of love, freedom, peace, joy, hope.
And I believe in God who loves me. (Here the pastor points in the direction of different people in the congregation.) I believe in God who loves you and you and you and you and you. And I believe in God who triumphs over chaos.
And I believe, therefore, in God who is on the side of the helpless and the outcast. I believe in God who abhors racism, homophobia, economic oppression. I believe in God who stands in solidarity with all. Amen.
11/04/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Earlier I said scholars agree the Shema, the great commandment is the place from which everything else flows. That includes the reality of the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. Indeed, the story of Jesus, who is the Christ, is the ultimate statement about the reality of God made in Scripture. If you do not trust the reality of God, there is no reason to consider Jesus.”
BLESSING: Go now, go in safety, for you cannot go where God is not. Go in love, for love alone endures. Go with purpose and God will honor your dedication. And go in peace for it is a gift of God and the Spirit of God to those whose hearts and minds are in Christ, Jesus. Amen.
[1] It should be noted that Hurricane Sandy hit New York City this week but it should also be noted that among many U.C.C. churches which suffered damage in the storm, the church in Rockaway Beach suffered significant damage.
The Shema and the Reality of God
“Hear, O Israel: / Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. / You are to love Yahweh, your God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.” — Deuteronomy 6:4-5.
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
My late uncle, after being drafted, became something of a beach bum, someone who chases the sun whenever he can. In part that was because he spent his entire time in the Army during World War II at Hickham Field in Hawaii, a place which may have the most beautiful beaches in the world.
I was not yet a teen when my family moved to the Woodhaven section of Queens in New York City. So, my uncle would, in the summer, drive his two nephews and his nice— myself, my brother and my sister— down to Rockaway Beach just eight miles south of where we lived, down Woodhaven Boulevard. It was his way of being good to us.
We would spend the day soaking up the sun and swimming. Later, still in our teens, my brother and I would, occasionally, ride our bikes the three plus miles South on Woodhaven Boulevard, through the community known as Howard Beach.
On the South side of Howard Beach we would visit a vast marshy area, what is now called Jamaica Bay Reserve. Then and now, it offered and offers a prime habitat for migratory birds and other wildlife.
Back then there was an ongoing fight about ownership of this natural wonder. Now it is part of the Gateway National Recreation Area. The majority of it is owned by the Federal Government and the City of New York.
This was the area, the place, at which and in which my Brother, Jim, first became interested in the environment. He now has a Master’s Degree in Environmental Science and works for the Adirondack Park Agency.
So, that community— Howard Beach— is one we visited and went through it all the time. A pastor friend of mine in New York City posted pictures on Facebook taken this week in Howard Beach. They were pictures of boats, large boats, sitting in people’s front yards and pictures of boats having breached the walls of houses— a stunning sight. [1] (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
The Upper West Side in New York City is and has been a haven of struggling artists. I counted myself among those in my early twenties. The Upper West Side is where I hung out.
Another picture I saw this week was of the West 86th Street Subway Station where I would get the Number One train, having left the apartment of David Schaefer, with whom I wrote a couple of hundred songs back then. In the picture water fills the Subway tracks to a level just below the platform— at best a frightening sight. (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
When I worked on Wall Street, I worked in the World Trade Center. Each year 9/11 is hard for me. Now, not only have I seen those buildings collapse. I have seen pictures of water from New York Harbor pouring into the construction site, into a part of the pit where those buildings stood. These images give me yet a heavier heart. (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
Halloween was celebrated this week. I’ve got nothing against Halloween. It’s fun. But it is made up. It means nothing. So it is well to remember nothing, in particular, is being celebrated other than eating too much candy and dressing up in things people would not otherwise wear, things which are sometimes even embarrassing.
You see, when Halloween rolls around each year I can’t help but think of this: my late mother was born in 1924, the daughter of a single mother. She grew up in poverty in Brooklyn, raised in the teeth of the Great Depression.
The children in her neighborhood went house to house to house for “Trick or Treat” not on Halloween but on Thanksgiving Day. At each door they would say “Trick or Treat— do you have anything for the ragamuffins?” Do you have anything for the ragamuffins? It might help to feed our family. (Slight pause.)
What is chaos? What does it look like? What does it feel like? (Slight pause.)
And these words are from the Tanakh in the section known as the Torah in the work we call Deuteronomy: “Hear, O Israel: / Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. / You are to love Yahweh, your God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.” (Slight pause.)
Most scholars agree: these words, known in Hebrew as the Shema or the great commandment, are the most important in all Scripture, the central point made in all Scripture, the place from which everything else flows. Why? These words are a concise explanation of who God is.
Indeed, these words are not just a proclamation but an explanation of God. God is the One to be loved with heart, mind and soul. And these words are not just a proclamation and an explanation, these words are actually in the form of an oath, an oath which attests to the reality of God.
The Hebrew Scriptures constantly attest to who God is, to what God does, to the reality of God. The second verse in Genesis says this about God creating the universe (quote): “...when the earth was unformed and void, wild and waste, filled with chaos and emptiness— chaos and emptiness— as night reigned over the surface of the deep, a wind from God, the rushing Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters.” (Slight pause.)
God, you see, is the One who brings order to chaos— order to chaos. But why— why with an oath— attest to this God who brings order to chaos? (Slight pause.)
I have some news for you. I believe God exists. I cannot prove God exists. Nor can anyone else prove God exists.
No prophet, priest, prelate, politician, pastor, primate, presbyter— none of them can prove God exists. Only one thing can insist God exists: faith. And for you— each of you— it is not my faith which can insist God exists. It is only your faith which can insist God exists.
Now, clearly some people will not be and are not comfortable with a fath that insists God exists. As for me, however, despite all the reality with which chaos presents itself, in the end I refuse to allow chaos to triumph.
Why? I believe in freedom. I believe in peace. I believe in joy. I believe in love. I believe in hope. I can see none of these. But they are real. And I believe each of these— freedom, peace, joy, love, hope— triumphs over chaos. (Slight pause.)
And oh, yes. I believe in God. I believe in God who insists on the reality of love, freedom, peace, joy, hope.
And I believe in God who loves me. (Here the pastor points in the direction of different people in the congregation.) I believe in God who loves you and you and you and you and you. And I believe in God who triumphs over chaos.
And I believe, therefore, in God who is on the side of the helpless and the outcast. I believe in God who abhors racism, homophobia, economic oppression. I believe in God who stands in solidarity with all. Amen.
11/04/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Earlier I said scholars agree the Shema, the great commandment is the place from which everything else flows. That includes the reality of the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. Indeed, the story of Jesus, who is the Christ, is the ultimate statement about the reality of God made in Scripture. If you do not trust the reality of God, there is no reason to consider Jesus.”
BLESSING: Go now, go in safety, for you cannot go where God is not. Go in love, for love alone endures. Go with purpose and God will honor your dedication. And go in peace for it is a gift of God and the Spirit of God to those whose hearts and minds are in Christ, Jesus. Amen.
[1] It should be noted that Hurricane Sandy hit New York City this week but it should also be noted that among many U.C.C. churches which suffered damage in the storm, the church in Rockaway Beach suffered significant damage.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
SERMON ~ 12/28/2012 ~ VISION
10/28/2012 ~ Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost ~ Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 25) ~ Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22); Jeremiah 31:7-9; Psalm 126; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52.
“Then Jesus said, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ / ‘Teacher,’ said the one who was blind, ‘I want to see.’” — Mark 10:51
{Note: Bulletin inserts with pictures are referenced in this sermon. To see those you will need to go to the sermon area of the web site of the United Church of Christ, First Congregational of Norwich (the web site is and the sermon button is a little bit down the page on the right) you will find the pictures at the end of the PDF file. }
Those of you who know me well know this is my favorite time of year. Yes, I like the Fall color. Yes, I like the cooler temperatures. But those are not what makes this time of year special for me.
I am an avid Baseball fan. This is the time of year called the World Series. (It might end tonight but we’re still in it.) In part because they were recognizing this special time of year, the Major League Baseball Network in conjunction with the playing of the Fall Classic, also recognized that last Tuesday, the 24th of October, was the 40th anniversary of the death of the man who broke the color barrier in Baseball, Jackie Robinson.
One of the segments in that program was devoted to an interview by Bob Costas, the well known sports broadcaster, with David Robinson, Jackie’s son. The younger Robinson said he has two pictures of his Father in the midst of that baseball career hanging in his office. You’ve got copies of the both of them in your bulletin.
One is the iconic picture of Robinson stealing Home, sliding under the tag of Yogi Berra in the eighth inning of Game 1 of the 1955 World Series at Yankee Stadium. (The pastor holds up the insert with that picture.) That 1955 World Series was the only one the Brooklyn Dodgers— emphasis on Brooklyn— the only World Series the Brooklyn Dodgers ever won.
And, since that successful steal of Home is so well remembered and the fact that the Dodgers did win that series is so well remembered, what is probably less well remembered is the Dodgers actually lost the game when Robinson stole Home. So, despite the loss of that one game, the steal of Home is remembered as a symbol of triumph and that triumph is symbolized by this photo.
The second picture in David Robinson’s office is not as iconic but may be of even more interest. (The pastor holds up the insert with that picture.) The picture was taken on October 3rd, 1951, at the end of the game between the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants. This is the famous (or for Brooklyn fans infamous) “Shot Heard 'round the World” game.
This game ended with the Giants batter, Bobby Thompson, hitting a home run to win the game and take the National League Pennant from the Dodgers. The loss was heartbreaking for the Dodgers since they had led the Giants by a 13½ game margin as late as August 11th that year. But the Giants put together a streak almost unequaled in baseball history. They had a record of 37 wins and only 7 losses over the course of their last 44 games.
What you see in the picture, taken from center field looking in toward the plate, are the Giants mobbing Thompson who has just hit the Home Run. You also see Robinson near his Second Base position, seemingly immobile, staring intently at celebrating team. One might assume Jackie stands there simply in disgust.
But in the interview with Costas, David Robinson, Jackie’s son, explained what was really happening, what was going in with Jackie in that picture. Jackie stood there checking that Thompson had touched each base and had touched home plate on the one in a million chance that he might have, in the jubilation of the moment, missed a bag. He then, of course, could been declared out and the game would continue because it would only be tied.
David Robinson went on to explain the reason this picture was so important to him and to his family is it embodied one of the life lessons his Father taught. (Quote:) “It is against our rules to give up.”
So, that picture and that moment was not and is not a symbol of defeat. It is a symbol of how you need to live your life, the tenacity with which you need to move forward, even in the face of what feels like disaster. (Slight pause.)
And these words are from Mark: “Then Jesus said, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ / ‘Teacher,’ said the one who was blind, ‘I want to see.’” (Slight pause.)
The name of the blind beggar, Bartimaeus ben-Timaeus, is an unusual mixture of Greek and Hebrew. In Hebrew the name might mean unclean. And in that era, a blind beggar would be seen as ritually unclean.
But in Greek, the name might mean honorable. Further, on the Greek side of that ledger, Timaeus is the name of the person in Plato’s Dialogue who claims sight is the foundation of knowledge. So, while the name mixes these two languages, one is tempted to guess there is a point being made here in both languages.
But that aspect is, I think, a sidelight. If we concentrate on the actions of Bartimaeus, tenacity is a clear trait. The question we have to ask is: why? Why is Bartimaeus so tenacious? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest Bartimaeus had a clear vision before he was granted sight. And that vision had to do with a belief in who God is. It seems to me this is a belief in a God who loves and that love has no limits in its vision for possibilities.
You see, I think we live in a world with limited vision— not limited sight, limited vision. Let me ask this: not what kind of sight but what kind of vision does it take to see that God loves all people?
Not what kind of sight but what kind of vision does it take to see we need to be about the work of God? Not what kind of sight but what kind of vision does it take to see that we need to be about the work of feeding the hungry, clothing those in tatters, sheltering the homeless, providing adequate health care? (Slight pause.)
In our Adult Education time on Sunday Morning we’ve been looking at a set of DVDs called the Living the Question. In one of them theologian Marcus Borg says this (quote): “We live in a time of transition in the Church which has been underway for over a half a century. It’s a transition between an older, conventional way of seeing Christianity that most Christians have taken for granted for a couple of centuries.”
“That older, conventional understanding (usually semi-literalistic, doctrinal and after-life orientated) has become unpersuasive for many. A whole host of questions are generated by the erosion or collapse of that older vision” [unquote]. (Slight pause.)
I think one of the things the Bible is about is about having a vision concerning one specific question: where is God leading us— now, today? Are we being led to stand in solidarity with the poor and the oppressed? If not, are we not then, somehow, placing limits on vision, limits on the possibilities God would have us see? Standing in solidarity with the poor and the oppressed— is that God’s vision. (Slight pause.)
I want to talk about one other incident in the life of Jackie Robinson. But there is no picture of it. It was only reported.
Pee Wee Reese was the Dodger Shortstop and a native of Kentucky. Indeed, in an acknowledgment of that Southern heritage, his nickname was “The Little Colonel.” One day, just before a game in Cincinnati, right across the river from Kentucky, Reese heard fans shouting racial slurs at Robinson. In response, Reese walked over to Robinson and put an arm around him showing support and solidarity.
A statue stands at KeySpan Park, the minor league ballpark in Brooklyn, which commemorates this event. This is a replica of that statue— it’s larger than life-size outside of the park. (The pastor holds up the replica.) I have it sitting in my office to remind me that one of the most important things we can have is the vision— the vision— to be in solidarity with the oppressed. (Slight pause.)
We can offer all kinds of help to people. We can feed the hungry, clothe those in tatters, etc., etc. But sometimes the most important thing we can do is stand with others, stand with others as people around them are shouting, telling them to be quiet, submissive, just as the crowd shouted at Bartimaeus.
When we see racism, homophobia, economic oppression, voting rights endangered, the right to adequate health care endangered— you name the ill— when we see these, sometimes we need to simply stand in solidarity with others. And that, my friends, is at least a part of what having vision is about— seeing the possibilities God would have us see for the rights of all people. When we have that kind of vision, one which empowers us to stand in solidarity with others, then we truly have a vision about what loving all people means. Amen.
10/28/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Robinson stole Home 18 times. That’s more than any other player in the major leagues who made their debut after 1920. It takes daring, skill, ability to steal home. But most of all it takes vision. This is a vision which says something can be done when most people say it can’t be done. I think that is the kind of vision to which God invites us: a vision which says God loves everyone. I don’t think God says ‘no’ to that kind of vision.”
BENEDICTION: Go out in the strength and love God provides. Praise the deeds of God by the way you live, by the way you love. And may the steadfast love of God and the peace of Christ, which surpasses understanding, keep our minds and hearts in the companionship and will of the Holy Spirit, this day and forever more. Amen.
Vision
“Then Jesus said, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ / ‘Teacher,’ said the one who was blind, ‘I want to see.’” — Mark 10:51
{Note: Bulletin inserts with pictures are referenced in this sermon. To see those you will need to go to the sermon area of the web site of the United Church of Christ, First Congregational of Norwich (the web site is
Those of you who know me well know this is my favorite time of year. Yes, I like the Fall color. Yes, I like the cooler temperatures. But those are not what makes this time of year special for me.
I am an avid Baseball fan. This is the time of year called the World Series. (It might end tonight but we’re still in it.) In part because they were recognizing this special time of year, the Major League Baseball Network in conjunction with the playing of the Fall Classic, also recognized that last Tuesday, the 24th of October, was the 40th anniversary of the death of the man who broke the color barrier in Baseball, Jackie Robinson.
One of the segments in that program was devoted to an interview by Bob Costas, the well known sports broadcaster, with David Robinson, Jackie’s son. The younger Robinson said he has two pictures of his Father in the midst of that baseball career hanging in his office. You’ve got copies of the both of them in your bulletin.
One is the iconic picture of Robinson stealing Home, sliding under the tag of Yogi Berra in the eighth inning of Game 1 of the 1955 World Series at Yankee Stadium. (The pastor holds up the insert with that picture.) That 1955 World Series was the only one the Brooklyn Dodgers— emphasis on Brooklyn— the only World Series the Brooklyn Dodgers ever won.
And, since that successful steal of Home is so well remembered and the fact that the Dodgers did win that series is so well remembered, what is probably less well remembered is the Dodgers actually lost the game when Robinson stole Home. So, despite the loss of that one game, the steal of Home is remembered as a symbol of triumph and that triumph is symbolized by this photo.
The second picture in David Robinson’s office is not as iconic but may be of even more interest. (The pastor holds up the insert with that picture.) The picture was taken on October 3rd, 1951, at the end of the game between the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants. This is the famous (or for Brooklyn fans infamous) “Shot Heard 'round the World” game.
This game ended with the Giants batter, Bobby Thompson, hitting a home run to win the game and take the National League Pennant from the Dodgers. The loss was heartbreaking for the Dodgers since they had led the Giants by a 13½ game margin as late as August 11th that year. But the Giants put together a streak almost unequaled in baseball history. They had a record of 37 wins and only 7 losses over the course of their last 44 games.
What you see in the picture, taken from center field looking in toward the plate, are the Giants mobbing Thompson who has just hit the Home Run. You also see Robinson near his Second Base position, seemingly immobile, staring intently at celebrating team. One might assume Jackie stands there simply in disgust.
But in the interview with Costas, David Robinson, Jackie’s son, explained what was really happening, what was going in with Jackie in that picture. Jackie stood there checking that Thompson had touched each base and had touched home plate on the one in a million chance that he might have, in the jubilation of the moment, missed a bag. He then, of course, could been declared out and the game would continue because it would only be tied.
David Robinson went on to explain the reason this picture was so important to him and to his family is it embodied one of the life lessons his Father taught. (Quote:) “It is against our rules to give up.”
So, that picture and that moment was not and is not a symbol of defeat. It is a symbol of how you need to live your life, the tenacity with which you need to move forward, even in the face of what feels like disaster. (Slight pause.)
And these words are from Mark: “Then Jesus said, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ / ‘Teacher,’ said the one who was blind, ‘I want to see.’” (Slight pause.)
The name of the blind beggar, Bartimaeus ben-Timaeus, is an unusual mixture of Greek and Hebrew. In Hebrew the name might mean unclean. And in that era, a blind beggar would be seen as ritually unclean.
But in Greek, the name might mean honorable. Further, on the Greek side of that ledger, Timaeus is the name of the person in Plato’s Dialogue who claims sight is the foundation of knowledge. So, while the name mixes these two languages, one is tempted to guess there is a point being made here in both languages.
But that aspect is, I think, a sidelight. If we concentrate on the actions of Bartimaeus, tenacity is a clear trait. The question we have to ask is: why? Why is Bartimaeus so tenacious? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest Bartimaeus had a clear vision before he was granted sight. And that vision had to do with a belief in who God is. It seems to me this is a belief in a God who loves and that love has no limits in its vision for possibilities.
You see, I think we live in a world with limited vision— not limited sight, limited vision. Let me ask this: not what kind of sight but what kind of vision does it take to see that God loves all people?
Not what kind of sight but what kind of vision does it take to see we need to be about the work of God? Not what kind of sight but what kind of vision does it take to see that we need to be about the work of feeding the hungry, clothing those in tatters, sheltering the homeless, providing adequate health care? (Slight pause.)
In our Adult Education time on Sunday Morning we’ve been looking at a set of DVDs called the Living the Question. In one of them theologian Marcus Borg says this (quote): “We live in a time of transition in the Church which has been underway for over a half a century. It’s a transition between an older, conventional way of seeing Christianity that most Christians have taken for granted for a couple of centuries.”
“That older, conventional understanding (usually semi-literalistic, doctrinal and after-life orientated) has become unpersuasive for many. A whole host of questions are generated by the erosion or collapse of that older vision” [unquote]. (Slight pause.)
I think one of the things the Bible is about is about having a vision concerning one specific question: where is God leading us— now, today? Are we being led to stand in solidarity with the poor and the oppressed? If not, are we not then, somehow, placing limits on vision, limits on the possibilities God would have us see? Standing in solidarity with the poor and the oppressed— is that God’s vision. (Slight pause.)
I want to talk about one other incident in the life of Jackie Robinson. But there is no picture of it. It was only reported.
Pee Wee Reese was the Dodger Shortstop and a native of Kentucky. Indeed, in an acknowledgment of that Southern heritage, his nickname was “The Little Colonel.” One day, just before a game in Cincinnati, right across the river from Kentucky, Reese heard fans shouting racial slurs at Robinson. In response, Reese walked over to Robinson and put an arm around him showing support and solidarity.
A statue stands at KeySpan Park, the minor league ballpark in Brooklyn, which commemorates this event. This is a replica of that statue— it’s larger than life-size outside of the park. (The pastor holds up the replica.) I have it sitting in my office to remind me that one of the most important things we can have is the vision— the vision— to be in solidarity with the oppressed. (Slight pause.)
We can offer all kinds of help to people. We can feed the hungry, clothe those in tatters, etc., etc. But sometimes the most important thing we can do is stand with others, stand with others as people around them are shouting, telling them to be quiet, submissive, just as the crowd shouted at Bartimaeus.
When we see racism, homophobia, economic oppression, voting rights endangered, the right to adequate health care endangered— you name the ill— when we see these, sometimes we need to simply stand in solidarity with others. And that, my friends, is at least a part of what having vision is about— seeing the possibilities God would have us see for the rights of all people. When we have that kind of vision, one which empowers us to stand in solidarity with others, then we truly have a vision about what loving all people means. Amen.
10/28/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Robinson stole Home 18 times. That’s more than any other player in the major leagues who made their debut after 1920. It takes daring, skill, ability to steal home. But most of all it takes vision. This is a vision which says something can be done when most people say it can’t be done. I think that is the kind of vision to which God invites us: a vision which says God loves everyone. I don’t think God says ‘no’ to that kind of vision.”
BENEDICTION: Go out in the strength and love God provides. Praise the deeds of God by the way you live, by the way you love. And may the steadfast love of God and the peace of Christ, which surpasses understanding, keep our minds and hearts in the companionship and will of the Holy Spirit, this day and forever more. Amen.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
SERMON ~ 10/21/2012 ~ Service
10/21/2012 ~ Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost ~ Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 24) ~ Job 38:1-7, (34-41); Psalm 104:1-9, 24, 35c; Isaiah 53:4-12; Psalm 91:9-16; Hebrews 5:1-10; Mark 10:35-45.
Service [1]
“Anyone among you who wishes to aspire to greatness must serve the rest; whoever wants to rank first among you must serve the needs of all.” — Mark 10:43b-44
In part because of my current office as the Moderator of the Susquehanna Association of the New York Conference of the United Church of Christ, I have made many trips to Ithaca. The Susquehanna Association goes all the way out to Corning.
As I am sure you know, Ithaca qualifies as a college town. The permanent population in the city, itself, is about 30,000, with the greater Metropolitan area of Ithaca numbering 100,000. That number does not include the roughly 20,000 students from Cornell or 6,000 from Ithaca College.
Additionally, in the words of one Bonnie Scott Connolly, Ithaca is a funky town. I think she means a place with a lot of arts. In fact, the town has crafts stores, too numerous to mention, 3 professional theaters, a civic orchestra, the Sciencenter, a hands-on science museum for people of all ages and The Museum of the Earth.
Ithaca is also noted for its annual artistic celebration of community with The Ithaca Festival, its associated parade and the Circus— catch this now— the Circus Eccentrithaca. See? Eccentrithaca? I like it— it’s a pun. Further, the Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts provides grants and Summer Fellowships for New York State artists and writers.
Since the greater Ithaca area population is over 100,000, excluding students, that is a population base large enough to provide a window as to how this area might get to the level called funky or artsy. Of course, given it’s funky-ness there is something else people say about Ithaca. Ithaca— it’s seven square miles surrounded by... reality.
Now, my personal complaint is, while I go to Ithaca a good deal, I don’t get a chance to experience a lot of this funky. Most of the time when I go there, it’s on business. I either find myself driving to the First Congregational Church in Ithaca or find myself driving through Ithaca to the Federated Church, just south of the town.
That lack of my getting to the funky side Ithaca explains why I only recently found out about the Sagan Planet Walk. Needless to say most of us remember the late Carl Sagan and remember the phrase he made famous: “billions upon billions.” When he said that he was trying to help us understand the vastness of the universe.
This Planet Walk is, I think, helpful in allowing us to visualize and, thereby, to understand what vast really means. The Walk is a scale model of just our own solar system, not the universe, cut down to five billion times smaller than the real thing.
Now, let’s admit it— we have no real feeling for the size of the solar system. Even knowing the numbers doesn’t help much. That’s O.K.
You see, if I tell you the Earth is about 8,000 miles in diameter and 93,000,000 miles from the Sun, does that give you any sense of the distance involved? No. It does not. The numbers are too big. Things that are far removed from our daily experience— things like dinosaurs or— hey, Kim Kardashian— are inherently hard to understand.
But the Sagan Walk tries to make the solar system accessible by shrinking it to a human scale. Each planet is displayed in its own monolith. As you stroll from one to the next, you can’t help noticing that the first four planets are really, really close together.
It takes a few seconds, perhaps thirty or forty steps, to walk from the Sun to Mercury and then on to Venus, Earth and Mars. By contrast, Jupiter is a full two-minute walk down the block, past the Moosewood Restaurant. The remaining planets are even lonelier, each marooned in its own part of town. The whole walk, from the Sun to Pluto, is about three-quarters of a mile and takes roughly 15 minutes.
The representations of the planets are scaled down in exact proportion also. The tiniest ones, Mercury and Pluto, look like grains of couscous. The Earth resembles a pea. The largest ones, Jupiter and Saturn, are the size of donut holes. The Sun, our star, is about 10 times larger still, the diameter of a serving plate.
This is our solar system scaled down to our size, a manageable size when it come to understanding the vast expanse of space. And, despite being five billion times smaller than the real thing, the display does not even take into account our own galaxy, the Milky Way. The Milky Way could have as many as 400 billion other stars, stars like our Sun.
The display does not take into account the other galaxies, the rest of the universe. Current estimates say there might be as many as 200 billion other galaxies. (Slight pause.) So, how small are we? [2] (Slight pause.)
Jesus and all the disciples are not in the same universe when their conversation takes place. The disciples are seeking a Messiah who will be temporal, who will kick out the Roman Army of occupation. They live in a temporal, manageable universe. Jesus is addressing the eternal, the infinite.
The issue this presents to us, therefore, is how do we grapple with both the reality in which we live, the temporal, and the reality of the eternal? And I need to add our issue is not that the eternal fails to be real. It is real. But just like the universe, the reality of the eternal is both real and it is too big a concept for us to fully grasp.
But I do think Jesus frames the question in a way we can understand it? Yes. I do. (Quote): “Anyone among you who wishes to aspire to greatness must serve the rest; whoever wants to rank first among you must serve the needs of all.” But I also think that is exactly what we have trouble with.
You see, our ego suggests to us that being great— greatness— demands that we are in control. But let me ask this question: if we visualize how vast the universe is, how great are we? How great can we ever be, really?
Therefore, Jesus also addresses a second paradox here. The paradox is that we can be great. It’s just not the way most of us presume greatness happens. I think it’s likely most of us presume greatness happens because we are in charge.
I want to suggest greatness happens when we recognize that we are not in charge and that we need to not be in charge. But we do need to serve others. And all that poses the obvious question: what is serving others about? (Slight pause.) Is it possible that serving others is about forming community, about being community to one another? (Slight pause.)
Recently, there were two anecdotes in The Christian Century which, I think, explain community. (Slight pause.) The first one: passengers on a bus in Winnipeg, Manitoba were stunned on a recent, cold, early fall morning to see a man walking on the sidewalk without shoes.
The driver stopped the bus, hopped out, took off his own shoes and gave them to the man. When asked by the passengers why he had done this he said, “I’m warm and safe in the bus the rest of the day. I couldn’t stand seeing someone walking barefoot out in the cold.” (Slight pause.)
The second story speaks about an Amish farmer. The man was asked what community means to him.
He explained whenever he and his son are finished with Spring plowing, they go with their horses to the highest point on the farm where they can see 13 teams of horses working neighboring farms. He said (quote): “I know if I get sick or debilitated or die, those 13 teams and those people will be at work, helping on my farm.” [3] (Slight pause.)
You see, community is about two things. It’s about knowing how small we are. Compared to the infinite, we are small. And community is also about knowing how big we are. When we are in community, we live for each other. Then we are great.
Or as Jesus said, “Anyone among you who wishes to aspire to greatness must serve the rest; whoever wants to rank first among you must serve the needs of all.” Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
10/21/2012
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Light travels at 186,000 miles per second. It takes light eight minutes to get from the Sun to the earth. Therefore, you can do the math and see how far that is. A light year, on the other hand, is how far light travels in a year. Scientists tell is the known universe— do note, the implication of that is there may be more universe about which they do not know— scientists tell is the known universe is 13.7 billion light years across. The idea of 13.7 billion light years is so big, if that does not make one’s head hurt just to think about it, we are doing it wrong. When we admit to the thought that being great is not putting ourselves first, it should make our head hurt. Why? The idea is so big we should have a hard time just getting our heads around it.”
BENEDICTION: There is a cost and there is a joy in discipleship. There is a cost and there is a joy in truly being church, in deeply loving one another. May the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] Anyone listening to the sound version of this sermon on the Web, needs to note the Pastor had a nasty cold and managed to “croak” through the delivery.
[2] http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/10/15/visualizing-vastness/?hp ~ Me, Myself and Math; NY TIMES; October 15, 2012 ~ Visualizing Vastness, by Steven Strogatz
[3] The Christian Century, 10/17/2012, pg. 8.
Service [1]
“Anyone among you who wishes to aspire to greatness must serve the rest; whoever wants to rank first among you must serve the needs of all.” — Mark 10:43b-44
In part because of my current office as the Moderator of the Susquehanna Association of the New York Conference of the United Church of Christ, I have made many trips to Ithaca. The Susquehanna Association goes all the way out to Corning.
As I am sure you know, Ithaca qualifies as a college town. The permanent population in the city, itself, is about 30,000, with the greater Metropolitan area of Ithaca numbering 100,000. That number does not include the roughly 20,000 students from Cornell or 6,000 from Ithaca College.
Additionally, in the words of one Bonnie Scott Connolly, Ithaca is a funky town. I think she means a place with a lot of arts. In fact, the town has crafts stores, too numerous to mention, 3 professional theaters, a civic orchestra, the Sciencenter, a hands-on science museum for people of all ages and The Museum of the Earth.
Ithaca is also noted for its annual artistic celebration of community with The Ithaca Festival, its associated parade and the Circus— catch this now— the Circus Eccentrithaca. See? Eccentrithaca? I like it— it’s a pun. Further, the Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts provides grants and Summer Fellowships for New York State artists and writers.
Since the greater Ithaca area population is over 100,000, excluding students, that is a population base large enough to provide a window as to how this area might get to the level called funky or artsy. Of course, given it’s funky-ness there is something else people say about Ithaca. Ithaca— it’s seven square miles surrounded by... reality.
Now, my personal complaint is, while I go to Ithaca a good deal, I don’t get a chance to experience a lot of this funky. Most of the time when I go there, it’s on business. I either find myself driving to the First Congregational Church in Ithaca or find myself driving through Ithaca to the Federated Church, just south of the town.
That lack of my getting to the funky side Ithaca explains why I only recently found out about the Sagan Planet Walk. Needless to say most of us remember the late Carl Sagan and remember the phrase he made famous: “billions upon billions.” When he said that he was trying to help us understand the vastness of the universe.
This Planet Walk is, I think, helpful in allowing us to visualize and, thereby, to understand what vast really means. The Walk is a scale model of just our own solar system, not the universe, cut down to five billion times smaller than the real thing.
Now, let’s admit it— we have no real feeling for the size of the solar system. Even knowing the numbers doesn’t help much. That’s O.K.
You see, if I tell you the Earth is about 8,000 miles in diameter and 93,000,000 miles from the Sun, does that give you any sense of the distance involved? No. It does not. The numbers are too big. Things that are far removed from our daily experience— things like dinosaurs or— hey, Kim Kardashian— are inherently hard to understand.
But the Sagan Walk tries to make the solar system accessible by shrinking it to a human scale. Each planet is displayed in its own monolith. As you stroll from one to the next, you can’t help noticing that the first four planets are really, really close together.
It takes a few seconds, perhaps thirty or forty steps, to walk from the Sun to Mercury and then on to Venus, Earth and Mars. By contrast, Jupiter is a full two-minute walk down the block, past the Moosewood Restaurant. The remaining planets are even lonelier, each marooned in its own part of town. The whole walk, from the Sun to Pluto, is about three-quarters of a mile and takes roughly 15 minutes.
The representations of the planets are scaled down in exact proportion also. The tiniest ones, Mercury and Pluto, look like grains of couscous. The Earth resembles a pea. The largest ones, Jupiter and Saturn, are the size of donut holes. The Sun, our star, is about 10 times larger still, the diameter of a serving plate.
This is our solar system scaled down to our size, a manageable size when it come to understanding the vast expanse of space. And, despite being five billion times smaller than the real thing, the display does not even take into account our own galaxy, the Milky Way. The Milky Way could have as many as 400 billion other stars, stars like our Sun.
The display does not take into account the other galaxies, the rest of the universe. Current estimates say there might be as many as 200 billion other galaxies. (Slight pause.) So, how small are we? [2] (Slight pause.)
Jesus and all the disciples are not in the same universe when their conversation takes place. The disciples are seeking a Messiah who will be temporal, who will kick out the Roman Army of occupation. They live in a temporal, manageable universe. Jesus is addressing the eternal, the infinite.
The issue this presents to us, therefore, is how do we grapple with both the reality in which we live, the temporal, and the reality of the eternal? And I need to add our issue is not that the eternal fails to be real. It is real. But just like the universe, the reality of the eternal is both real and it is too big a concept for us to fully grasp.
But I do think Jesus frames the question in a way we can understand it? Yes. I do. (Quote): “Anyone among you who wishes to aspire to greatness must serve the rest; whoever wants to rank first among you must serve the needs of all.” But I also think that is exactly what we have trouble with.
You see, our ego suggests to us that being great— greatness— demands that we are in control. But let me ask this question: if we visualize how vast the universe is, how great are we? How great can we ever be, really?
Therefore, Jesus also addresses a second paradox here. The paradox is that we can be great. It’s just not the way most of us presume greatness happens. I think it’s likely most of us presume greatness happens because we are in charge.
I want to suggest greatness happens when we recognize that we are not in charge and that we need to not be in charge. But we do need to serve others. And all that poses the obvious question: what is serving others about? (Slight pause.) Is it possible that serving others is about forming community, about being community to one another? (Slight pause.)
Recently, there were two anecdotes in The Christian Century which, I think, explain community. (Slight pause.) The first one: passengers on a bus in Winnipeg, Manitoba were stunned on a recent, cold, early fall morning to see a man walking on the sidewalk without shoes.
The driver stopped the bus, hopped out, took off his own shoes and gave them to the man. When asked by the passengers why he had done this he said, “I’m warm and safe in the bus the rest of the day. I couldn’t stand seeing someone walking barefoot out in the cold.” (Slight pause.)
The second story speaks about an Amish farmer. The man was asked what community means to him.
He explained whenever he and his son are finished with Spring plowing, they go with their horses to the highest point on the farm where they can see 13 teams of horses working neighboring farms. He said (quote): “I know if I get sick or debilitated or die, those 13 teams and those people will be at work, helping on my farm.” [3] (Slight pause.)
You see, community is about two things. It’s about knowing how small we are. Compared to the infinite, we are small. And community is also about knowing how big we are. When we are in community, we live for each other. Then we are great.
Or as Jesus said, “Anyone among you who wishes to aspire to greatness must serve the rest; whoever wants to rank first among you must serve the needs of all.” Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
10/21/2012
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Light travels at 186,000 miles per second. It takes light eight minutes to get from the Sun to the earth. Therefore, you can do the math and see how far that is. A light year, on the other hand, is how far light travels in a year. Scientists tell is the known universe— do note, the implication of that is there may be more universe about which they do not know— scientists tell is the known universe is 13.7 billion light years across. The idea of 13.7 billion light years is so big, if that does not make one’s head hurt just to think about it, we are doing it wrong. When we admit to the thought that being great is not putting ourselves first, it should make our head hurt. Why? The idea is so big we should have a hard time just getting our heads around it.”
BENEDICTION: There is a cost and there is a joy in discipleship. There is a cost and there is a joy in truly being church, in deeply loving one another. May the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] Anyone listening to the sound version of this sermon on the Web, needs to note the Pastor had a nasty cold and managed to “croak” through the delivery.
[2] http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/10/15/visualizing-vastness/?hp ~ Me, Myself and Math; NY TIMES; October 15, 2012 ~ Visualizing Vastness, by Steven Strogatz
[3] The Christian Century, 10/17/2012, pg. 8.
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