12/27/2015 ~ First Sunday after Christmas, i.e.: the First Sunday after the Celebration of the Nativity of Jesus, the Christ ~ 1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26; Psalm 148; Colossians 3:12-17; Luke 2:41-52 ~ Also with A Hymn Sing.
Finding Jesus
“When the festival had ended they started to return. But Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, something Mary and Joseph did not realize.” — Luke 2:43-44.
I have, over time, regaled you with stories about the Great State of Maine, and about the fact that Bonnie and I met at a place, an island of about 80 acres large (or small, depending on your point of view) in the middle of Penobscot Bay, owned by her extended family. Paul Johnson, her cousin, my best friend, often invites his friends to this spot.
Now, I met Bonnie on this island in 1987. But because Paul is my best friend I had been there before. Since the island has been in her family since 1898, it goes without saying that Bonnie had been on the island nearly every year of her life.
When we met I was 39 and Bonnie was 38. I think I had reached that point in life when the words which best described me were written by George Bernard Shaw and later turned into an introduction to a song lyric by Allan Lerner. I was (quote:) “a confirmed old bachelor, and likely to remain so.” Bonnie will tell you her thinking was along similar lines.
Put differently, when we met on the island we were not looking for anyone. As Bonnie puts it: we had kind of given up. And we were certainly not looking one another. Indeed, we both agree, had we met ten years earlier— which could have happened since ten years earlier I already knew Paul for 5 years— it’s unlikely we would have found one another because our heads were in a very different place. At that point we were both, in fact, looking for someone— those ten years earlier— we were looking for someone.
In short, we were together on a small island when we found one another. But neither of us was looking. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in Luke/Acts in the section commonly referred to as Luke: “When the festival had ended they started to return. But Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, something Mary and Joseph did not realize.” (Slight pause.)
As was stated when this reading was introduced, there are apocryphal gospels, works which did not make it into the canon. These contain astonishing stories about the boy Jesus striking down difficult playmates and raising them up again. The boy Jesus shaping sparrows out of clay and bringing them to life. One can readily see why these apocryphal gospels were voted off the island, or the canon called Scripture.” (Sight pause.)
For me, one of the recurring themes throughout all the Gospels, reflected here, is people try to find Jesus. People seek out Jesus.
The disciples seek a Messiah. In the Gospel we know as John the one called Nicodemus, a member of the Sanhedrin— effectively the city council in Jerusalem— seeks out Jesus but does so at night. Nicodemus seeks Jesus at night, afraid that someone of such a high station would be seen with this revolutionary, this rabble rouser.
In this story of the twelve year old Jesus there is a lot happening and a lot to be reckoned with— everything from the fact that Jesus appears at a young age to be learned to the fact that Mary and Joseph are clearly devote Jews. They visit Jerusalem each year at Passover. I think there’s enough for a couple of sermons or at least a couple of hours of sermonizing here.
But fear not: I will limit my observations. Indeed, let me concentrate on one way to look at this story. In fact, perhaps one reason this story finds its way into the canon is, just as in other Gospel stories, people seek Jesus.
I think there is a twofold the seeking of Jesus is interesting. First, Jesus is there. Jesus in not in hiding. Jesus is simply there. Yet people seek Jesus.
Second and as you probably know, people are not expecting the Jesus Who is there. People are largely expecting a Messiah who will overthrow, perhaps violently, the existing order, the Roman Empire. But the Messiah they get is not the Messiah they expect. The Messiah they get is a Messiah of peace.
I think we sometimes have the same problem today. The Messiah some of us want is not the Messiah Who is there. So people seek the Jesus who is not there instead of recognizing the Jesus Who is there.
I said this Thursday night, Christmas Eve. The reason we celebrate Christmas is to remind us that Christ is with us— here, now. The presence of Christ is a reality, whether or not we admit it. And because of that presence, Christ invites us to participate in the Dominion of God— here, now.
And what is that work? That work is the work of peace, hope, love, joy, freedom. Here’s the short version of this message. Relax: we do not need to seek Jesus. Jesus is here. Amen.
12/27/2015
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 Response and Benediction. {The firs thing the pastor said was a reference to the fact that the service contained a hymn sing.} And this is a précis of what was said: “First, thank you for all your input. Second, we all have relatives who give us great, funny, silly Christmas presents. Here is mine. {The pastor removes his robe to reveal a sweatshirt emblazoned with the word Sermonator.} The Sermonator. Can’t beat that, right?
BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing from the words of the Prophet Isaiah in the 60th chapter (Isaiah 60:19-20)— The sun shall no longer be / your light by day, / nor for brightness shall the moon / give light to you by night; / but Yahweh, God, will be your everlasting light, / and your God will be your glory. / Your sun shall no more go down, / or your moon withdraw itself; / for God will be your everlasting light, / and your days of mourning shall be ended. / Amen.
Monday, December 28, 2015
Friday, December 25, 2015
SERMON ~ 12/24/2015 ~ “Source of Peace”
12/24/2015 ~ Nativity of the Christ, Known in Some Traditions as the Feast of the Incarnation, Known in other Traditions as the Feast of the Birth of the Messiah, Commonly Known as Christmas Eve and Christmas Day ~ Proper I ~ Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14, (15-20) ~ Proper II ~ Isaiah 62:6-12; Psalm 97; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:(1-7), 8-20 ~ Proper III ~ Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98; Hebrews 1:1-4, (5-12); John 1:1-14.
Source of Peace
“In those days the Emperor Augustus published a decree ordering a census of the Roman world.” — Luke 2:1.
Rabbi Baruch had been sleeping for some time. Suddenly he was wide awake. Loud banging noises cluttered the air.
He would have jumped up if his old bones had allowed for that. But he was advanced in years, no longer possessing the agility of youth.
Slowly he placed his feet on the floor and with some pain stood. The noise kept repeating. He heard shouts also.
“It’s those shepherd boys,” he said out loud. That too was another sign of age. Instead of simply thinking things, he said them out loud, even though he was the only audience. “Those shepherd boys are trying to annoy me, trying to make me come out and curse them.”
He knew and they knew he would not curse them. Not only was he a Rabbi. His very name, Baruch, meant blessing. So he blessed. He would not curse.
They were shepherds— the lowest of the low, a cut above common criminals— but these were his shepherds, boys he had hired to tend his flock. He knew they had good hearts.
And he knew exactly how they were making this racket. They were banging the metal gate that led to the stable open and shut, open and shut— bang, bang, bang, bang.
Baruch stood, paced carefully toward the door, pushed on it and put his head outside the frame. The noise of the gate stopped immediately. Together the boys shouted his name: “Rabbi Baruch! Rabbi Baruch!” and laughed. One of them asked, “Have you come to curse us Rabbi?”
The Rabbi waved at them. “No, I will not curse you. You know that.” The Rabbi then offered a blessing.
“May you be blessed,” he said. “May you be blessed far, far away from here. Please, go to the hills and be a blessing to the herd I hired you to watch.”
“Ah, Rabbi,” one of the boys said, “you are no fun.” The others laughed and then as one they turned and headed down the road toward the hills out of town.
Baruch went back inside, wide awake now. He sat and stared at a wall, contemplating about how he got to this small town, Bethlehem. It was not that far from Jerusalem. Even at his age he could walk from Jerusalem, where he had once lived, to Bethlehem in half a day.
But he knew he was getting old. And he was tired of what he had to put up with to live in Jerusalem. So he found this small place in Bethlehem where he could live out his years in some comfort, some peace. He kept sheep for income.
Because of his age he found boys in the village willing to help him, work for him. This keep the flock going.
And if he knew anything, he knew he needed to be in a place like Bethlehem, where it was at least more tranquil than the big city. He also knew he needed to get away from Jerusalem, get away the noise, the congestion, the politics.
Politics— a dirty business— politics, these days something which started and ended with Rome. The Rabbis and the Priests of the Temple seemed to be deeply involved in the politics of the Empire. They even were cooperating with this silly Roman census thing.
Everyone needed to go back to their towns it was said. But there was no room for all those people, certainly not in a tiny place like Bethlehem. Just this day he told a young man and his pregnant wife who had no place to stay they could at least find some shelter in the stable behind the house, if they liked.
He was sure the Rabbis and Priests in Jerusalem thought they were doing what they could for the people by cooperating with Rome. But were they?
After all, the Romans continued to crucify people every day. Yes, some were common criminals. But many were not. It seemed to him Romans simply liked to kill people.
This is what Roman theology said: peace through victory; peace is attained through victory. This much he knew: victory did not produce peace. Victory produced only a lull in the fighting, a brief break in war making.
And what about the ancient faith of Israel? How did that fit in with the Romans?
Caesar was not simply a ruler, not a king to them. Caesar was a God. And the Rabbis and Priests had to offer at least tacit acknowledgment of that to stay the good side of the Romans. Calling Caesar a god certainly sounded like blasphemy to Baruch.
Out loud, as he was given to do, Baruch spoke these words: “And where does the God of Israel, fit in if Caesar’s a god? Because of their belief in peace through victory the Romans even call Augustus a name attributed to my God, the God of Israel: ‘source of peace.’ Augustus— ‘source of peace’ Ha!”
Even though there was a tone of loathing in his voice, Baruch immediately realized what he, by implication, had done. He had taken the name of God in vain. He had cursed— a real curse, not a mere vulgarity. Out loud he had used the words ‘source of peace’— a title for God, and applied it not to the God of Israel but to Caesar Augustus.
What happened then was simply a physical reaction— he lifted his hand, spit between his forefinger and middle finger {the Pastor does this and that sound is heard}, fell to his knees and wept. He... had... cursed. Between his tears he said, “May God forgive me.” (Slight pause.)
Overcome with emotion, he must have either passed out or fallen asleep on the floor because the next thing he knew was he was looking at the ceiling and once again there was shouting and banging. Familiar voices called his name.
“Rabbi! Rabbi Baruch!” It was the boys. This time they burst through the door. They were all speaking at once about a light, singing, a baby.
The only words which made sense as they grabbed him by the arm were, “Come, come with us quickly. Come to the stable.”
They pushed him out the door, through the gate to the back of the house. There he saw a man and a woman and a baby. She had given birth. (Slight pause.)
The woman smiled. It was a kind smile, a gentle smile. She beckoned him forward and held up the child. He smiled. She reached out her arms with the baby.
Again, what happened was simply a physical reaction. He took the child in his arms.
He looked into the eyes of the baby. The longer he looked into the eyes of the infant, the deeper he looked, the more he saw. What was it? What was there? It took a while for words to form.
Finally, a phrase kept on repeating over and over in his head. He had no idea from where the thought would have come but as was his wont, he said the words out loud: “source... of... peace.” Amen.
12/24/2015 — 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 Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “A couple of weeks ago at the end of the Sunday Service I pointed out that ‘source or prince of peace,’ ‘son of god,’ ‘the one to be worshiped,’ ‘savior of the world’ were all titles of Caesar. The secular world of Rome claimed connection with divinity. We live in a secular world. Hence, I never wish people a ‘Merry Christmas.’ That’s a secular term and as an alternative I’ve often, therefore, suggested that as Christians we wish one another a ‘Happy Christmas.’ But instead, I want to make a suggestion. If somebody says to you either ‘Happy Christmas’ ‘Merry Christmas,’ say to them ‘Christ is with us.’ That is the Christian sentiment the Feast of the Incarnation— Christ is with us.”
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.”
Source of Peace
“In those days the Emperor Augustus published a decree ordering a census of the Roman world.” — Luke 2:1.
Rabbi Baruch had been sleeping for some time. Suddenly he was wide awake. Loud banging noises cluttered the air.
He would have jumped up if his old bones had allowed for that. But he was advanced in years, no longer possessing the agility of youth.
Slowly he placed his feet on the floor and with some pain stood. The noise kept repeating. He heard shouts also.
“It’s those shepherd boys,” he said out loud. That too was another sign of age. Instead of simply thinking things, he said them out loud, even though he was the only audience. “Those shepherd boys are trying to annoy me, trying to make me come out and curse them.”
He knew and they knew he would not curse them. Not only was he a Rabbi. His very name, Baruch, meant blessing. So he blessed. He would not curse.
They were shepherds— the lowest of the low, a cut above common criminals— but these were his shepherds, boys he had hired to tend his flock. He knew they had good hearts.
And he knew exactly how they were making this racket. They were banging the metal gate that led to the stable open and shut, open and shut— bang, bang, bang, bang.
Baruch stood, paced carefully toward the door, pushed on it and put his head outside the frame. The noise of the gate stopped immediately. Together the boys shouted his name: “Rabbi Baruch! Rabbi Baruch!” and laughed. One of them asked, “Have you come to curse us Rabbi?”
The Rabbi waved at them. “No, I will not curse you. You know that.” The Rabbi then offered a blessing.
“May you be blessed,” he said. “May you be blessed far, far away from here. Please, go to the hills and be a blessing to the herd I hired you to watch.”
“Ah, Rabbi,” one of the boys said, “you are no fun.” The others laughed and then as one they turned and headed down the road toward the hills out of town.
Baruch went back inside, wide awake now. He sat and stared at a wall, contemplating about how he got to this small town, Bethlehem. It was not that far from Jerusalem. Even at his age he could walk from Jerusalem, where he had once lived, to Bethlehem in half a day.
But he knew he was getting old. And he was tired of what he had to put up with to live in Jerusalem. So he found this small place in Bethlehem where he could live out his years in some comfort, some peace. He kept sheep for income.
Because of his age he found boys in the village willing to help him, work for him. This keep the flock going.
And if he knew anything, he knew he needed to be in a place like Bethlehem, where it was at least more tranquil than the big city. He also knew he needed to get away from Jerusalem, get away the noise, the congestion, the politics.
Politics— a dirty business— politics, these days something which started and ended with Rome. The Rabbis and the Priests of the Temple seemed to be deeply involved in the politics of the Empire. They even were cooperating with this silly Roman census thing.
Everyone needed to go back to their towns it was said. But there was no room for all those people, certainly not in a tiny place like Bethlehem. Just this day he told a young man and his pregnant wife who had no place to stay they could at least find some shelter in the stable behind the house, if they liked.
He was sure the Rabbis and Priests in Jerusalem thought they were doing what they could for the people by cooperating with Rome. But were they?
After all, the Romans continued to crucify people every day. Yes, some were common criminals. But many were not. It seemed to him Romans simply liked to kill people.
This is what Roman theology said: peace through victory; peace is attained through victory. This much he knew: victory did not produce peace. Victory produced only a lull in the fighting, a brief break in war making.
And what about the ancient faith of Israel? How did that fit in with the Romans?
Caesar was not simply a ruler, not a king to them. Caesar was a God. And the Rabbis and Priests had to offer at least tacit acknowledgment of that to stay the good side of the Romans. Calling Caesar a god certainly sounded like blasphemy to Baruch.
Out loud, as he was given to do, Baruch spoke these words: “And where does the God of Israel, fit in if Caesar’s a god? Because of their belief in peace through victory the Romans even call Augustus a name attributed to my God, the God of Israel: ‘source of peace.’ Augustus— ‘source of peace’ Ha!”
Even though there was a tone of loathing in his voice, Baruch immediately realized what he, by implication, had done. He had taken the name of God in vain. He had cursed— a real curse, not a mere vulgarity. Out loud he had used the words ‘source of peace’— a title for God, and applied it not to the God of Israel but to Caesar Augustus.
What happened then was simply a physical reaction— he lifted his hand, spit between his forefinger and middle finger {the Pastor does this and that sound is heard}, fell to his knees and wept. He... had... cursed. Between his tears he said, “May God forgive me.” (Slight pause.)
Overcome with emotion, he must have either passed out or fallen asleep on the floor because the next thing he knew was he was looking at the ceiling and once again there was shouting and banging. Familiar voices called his name.
“Rabbi! Rabbi Baruch!” It was the boys. This time they burst through the door. They were all speaking at once about a light, singing, a baby.
The only words which made sense as they grabbed him by the arm were, “Come, come with us quickly. Come to the stable.”
They pushed him out the door, through the gate to the back of the house. There he saw a man and a woman and a baby. She had given birth. (Slight pause.)
The woman smiled. It was a kind smile, a gentle smile. She beckoned him forward and held up the child. He smiled. She reached out her arms with the baby.
Again, what happened was simply a physical reaction. He took the child in his arms.
He looked into the eyes of the baby. The longer he looked into the eyes of the infant, the deeper he looked, the more he saw. What was it? What was there? It took a while for words to form.
Finally, a phrase kept on repeating over and over in his head. He had no idea from where the thought would have come but as was his wont, he said the words out loud: “source... of... peace.” Amen.
12/24/2015 — 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 Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “A couple of weeks ago at the end of the Sunday Service I pointed out that ‘source or prince of peace,’ ‘son of god,’ ‘the one to be worshiped,’ ‘savior of the world’ were all titles of Caesar. The secular world of Rome claimed connection with divinity. We live in a secular world. Hence, I never wish people a ‘Merry Christmas.’ That’s a secular term and as an alternative I’ve often, therefore, suggested that as Christians we wish one another a ‘Happy Christmas.’ But instead, I want to make a suggestion. If somebody says to you either ‘Happy Christmas’ ‘Merry Christmas,’ say to them ‘Christ is with us.’ That is the Christian sentiment the Feast of the Incarnation— Christ is with us.”
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.”
Sunday, December 20, 2015
SERMON ~ 12/20/2015 ~ “Joy?”
12/20/2015 ~ Fourth Sunday of Advent ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Joy Is Celebrated; Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:46b-55 or Psalm 80:1-7; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45, (46-55).
Joy?
“...the moment I heard the sound of your greeting reach my ears, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed what our God said to her, what was spoken to her would be fulfilled, would be accomplished.” — Luke 1:44-45.
I think most of you know I came to Norwich from the great State of Maine. So I know Maine. And I’d like to briefly address the size and demographics of the state.
First, Maine is the largest New England State. The rest of the New England States— Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Connecticut can fit inside Maine. For all that land, it has only 1,300,000 residents. Maine is a rural state.
The Waldo County Cooperative of Churches, where I served as a part time pastor, was spread out over 40 miles. And the five towns in the co-op have less than 3,000 people all together. You could travel 10 or 15 minutes by car on the road from one of these towns to another and not see a house. It may feel rural in the Norwich area but not as rural as that.
I mention all this because, despite being in a small, rural state, Bangor Seminary, in Bangor, Maine, where I attended, had one of the outstanding New Testament scholars in the world on its staff. And I had the privileged of sitting in the classroom listening to this scholar— the Rev. Dr. Burton Throckmorton— just plain Burt to the students.
Now, I bring up Burt and Maine in the same breath for a couple of reasons. As I said, it was a privilege to learn from a scholar like Burt. He could have taught anywhere, you see— New York, Chicago. He had a world-wide reputation. He chose Bangor.
Further, this is what I mean when I say Burt was a scholar: he would stand in the front of the classroom with the Greek New Testament in his hands and translate it on the fly— just say the English words that were sitting in front of us. Then, occasionally, he would stop and explain why it was nearly impossible to translate a specific word into English, since there was no concurrent meaning in our language.
That brings me to what I think is the most important lesson I learned from Burt. When looking at the passage in 1 Corinthians 15, where it says (quote:) “I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received....” Burt told us there was no good English word for underlying Greek of “handed on.”
The closest he could come was a bit of gibberish— understandable gibberish but not good English. He said the word effectively meant not ‘handed on’ but ‘tradition-ed on.’
He then explained what ‘tradition-ed’ might mean. When you get married, he said, odds are you and your spouse have different family traditions about celebrating Christmas. And odds are you grapple with this.
It’s quite likely you wind up taking some traditions from column ‘A’ and some from column ‘B.’ But what you’ve done is made it your own. And making it your own is the point of ‘tradition-ed on.’
But be careful, said Burt. In order to make the tradition of Scripture your own you need to deeply, deeply, deeply understand what the tradition is. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Luke/Acts in the section commonly called Luke: “...the moment I heard the sound of your greeting reach my ears, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that what our God said to her, what was spoken to her would be fulfilled, would be accomplished.” (Slight pause.)
Among American Protestants there was largely no religious celebration of Christmas for our first two hundred years on these shores, the 1600s and the 1700s. There were no such things as Christmas Carols back then.
However, in the early 1800s religious observances slowly become accepted in Protestantism, among Protestants. But secularism crept in nearly right away.
Indeed, an article in the New York Times this week told about the history of secular Christmas traditions in which New York City had a hand. Santa Claus— at least the common way in which the jolly old elf is portrayed today— is a New York invention.
In an 1809 in a short story Washington Irving created a comic version of St. Nicholas based on a Dutch tradition. Clement Moore then wrote An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas in 1823 borrowing from Irving this “portly rubicund Dutchman.” The poem had a massive impact on Christmas gift giving it should be noted. Suffice it to say this figment of 19th Century literature bore no resemblance to the original Saint Nicholas, a Bishop from fourth century Turkey.
Just as a by the way, New York also had one of the first public Christmas tree lightings. But this did not happen until the 20th Century, 1912 to be precise. Before then there were essentially no public Christmas tree lightings anywhere in America. [1]
Here’s my point: what we do not realize, since a certain secular way of observing Christmas has been present for our entire lifetime these are new traditions. Acknowledging that these are new traditions leads me to a question.
Have we taken up the challenge of Paul about making the Christian tradition— not the Christmas tradition but the Christian tradition— our own? Or are we merely passive participants in what are obviously traditions based in the culture. Coming back to the Christmas traditions— for instance, these traditions about Christmas from Santa Claus to Christmas Trees?
Put another way, have we asked ourselves deep questions about Christian traditions around what the birth of the Messiah might mean? Have we asked ourselves not just what is the joy we should consider today, the day on which we celebrate joy. Have we asked ourselves why the child of Elizabeth might leap for joy? (Slight pause.)
When the reading from Luke was introduced, this was said. (Quote:) “Luke writes about not one birth narrative. Luke has a number of stories and two births in the first two chapters, and all of them are important.” (Slight pause.)
What makes these other sections important is the clarity they bring to the birth of the Messiah. How does this section of the First Chapter make the Second Chapter reading more clear?
I think some of the secular, cultural traditions we’ve developed over time get in the way of the real claim being made by Scripture. This is the claim: joy abounds because the proclamation here made is that this is not just a pastoral story of shepherds and the baby. This is the birth of the promised Messiah. And this is why we are joyful. (Slight pause.)
Theologian John Dominic Crossan says the one who leaps in the womb of Elizabeth, John, the one who goes before Jesus preaching, this Baptizer, has it wrong. John preaches that the Dominion of God will happen soon. Jesus, the cousin of John, says, “No, no that’s not quite right.” The Dominion of God is now, right now. And Jesus says we are invited to participate in that Dominion, now— right now.
Why? The Messiah is here— right now. The Messiah is present, is real, now. That’s the reason to be joyful. And we are invited by God to participate in the Dominion, now.
Here’s another way to put it. Jesus insists our lives are not about waiting for a second coming. Jesus insists our lives are about being willing to deal with the present reality of the first coming— Immanuel— God with us. (Slight pause.)
My friend Rebecca Fraser is a college professor and a talented poet. She is fond of writing in haiku, a Japanese style of poetry, often a three-line observation about a fleeting moment. Yesterday she posted this Christmas haiku but it had eight stanzas, not just one. Hence the title of this poem, this haiku, is A Christmas Haiku Times Eight.
Up and on the couch / With coffee at five a. m. / White lights, dark morning.
Slowly a gray sky / Emerges and I savor / The quiet and peace.
Comfortable and so / Uncomfortable knowing / Many are without.
Injustice explodes / Before my eyes when I choose / To see this darkness.
Come Emmanuel / Teach me love and compassion / Outside my safe home.
Show me where to care / And when to reach out a hand, / Present. Eye to eye.
And this is Christmas / Dark and light intermingle / Till light pierces dark.
Hope is born anew / And dreams of old women speak / Truth into worldly lies. [2]
Old women... old women like Elizabeth speak truth. And we— old and young— we are called to speak truth into worldly lies. Perhaps one truth is we fail to acknowledge the real joy of the advent of the Messiah. We fail to acknowledge is the real joy of the advent of the Messiah because we ignore the real truth of the first coming.
We ignore the real truth of the first coming by overlaying it with culturally acceptable practices. And what is the truth of Scripture as opposed to the truth of the culture? God... is... present. (Slight pause.)
Let us, this Christmas, this celebration of the first coming which we call Christmas, fully know the joy and the truth expressed by Scripture: God is with us, now. Let us celebrate the joy of the first coming by dealing with injustice, by dealing with our fears, by dealing with oppression, by dealing with violence.
Let us understand that the first coming means God is at our side on this journey. That is what Christmas is about. Christmas is about, therefore, fully understanding the hope, the peace, the love, the joy of God Who is present and Who is with us. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
12/20/2015
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “Why are Christians invited to celebrate joy on this Sunday? Because the Christ is with us. This is not a statement in the past tense. The Christ is with us and our claim, as Christians, is the transformation of the world began with the birth of the Christ. That transformation is not simply an internal, private, spiritual reality. That transformation is an external, societal, communal process because the Dominion of God is among us. And we are invited to participate in that transformation.”
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.
[1]
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/18/nyregion/new-york-today-a-little-history-of-christmas.html?emc=edit_ur_20151218&nl=nytoday&nlid=11820119
[2] Used with permission.
Joy?
“...the moment I heard the sound of your greeting reach my ears, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed what our God said to her, what was spoken to her would be fulfilled, would be accomplished.” — Luke 1:44-45.
I think most of you know I came to Norwich from the great State of Maine. So I know Maine. And I’d like to briefly address the size and demographics of the state.
First, Maine is the largest New England State. The rest of the New England States— Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Connecticut can fit inside Maine. For all that land, it has only 1,300,000 residents. Maine is a rural state.
The Waldo County Cooperative of Churches, where I served as a part time pastor, was spread out over 40 miles. And the five towns in the co-op have less than 3,000 people all together. You could travel 10 or 15 minutes by car on the road from one of these towns to another and not see a house. It may feel rural in the Norwich area but not as rural as that.
I mention all this because, despite being in a small, rural state, Bangor Seminary, in Bangor, Maine, where I attended, had one of the outstanding New Testament scholars in the world on its staff. And I had the privileged of sitting in the classroom listening to this scholar— the Rev. Dr. Burton Throckmorton— just plain Burt to the students.
Now, I bring up Burt and Maine in the same breath for a couple of reasons. As I said, it was a privilege to learn from a scholar like Burt. He could have taught anywhere, you see— New York, Chicago. He had a world-wide reputation. He chose Bangor.
Further, this is what I mean when I say Burt was a scholar: he would stand in the front of the classroom with the Greek New Testament in his hands and translate it on the fly— just say the English words that were sitting in front of us. Then, occasionally, he would stop and explain why it was nearly impossible to translate a specific word into English, since there was no concurrent meaning in our language.
That brings me to what I think is the most important lesson I learned from Burt. When looking at the passage in 1 Corinthians 15, where it says (quote:) “I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received....” Burt told us there was no good English word for underlying Greek of “handed on.”
The closest he could come was a bit of gibberish— understandable gibberish but not good English. He said the word effectively meant not ‘handed on’ but ‘tradition-ed on.’
He then explained what ‘tradition-ed’ might mean. When you get married, he said, odds are you and your spouse have different family traditions about celebrating Christmas. And odds are you grapple with this.
It’s quite likely you wind up taking some traditions from column ‘A’ and some from column ‘B.’ But what you’ve done is made it your own. And making it your own is the point of ‘tradition-ed on.’
But be careful, said Burt. In order to make the tradition of Scripture your own you need to deeply, deeply, deeply understand what the tradition is. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Luke/Acts in the section commonly called Luke: “...the moment I heard the sound of your greeting reach my ears, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that what our God said to her, what was spoken to her would be fulfilled, would be accomplished.” (Slight pause.)
Among American Protestants there was largely no religious celebration of Christmas for our first two hundred years on these shores, the 1600s and the 1700s. There were no such things as Christmas Carols back then.
However, in the early 1800s religious observances slowly become accepted in Protestantism, among Protestants. But secularism crept in nearly right away.
Indeed, an article in the New York Times this week told about the history of secular Christmas traditions in which New York City had a hand. Santa Claus— at least the common way in which the jolly old elf is portrayed today— is a New York invention.
In an 1809 in a short story Washington Irving created a comic version of St. Nicholas based on a Dutch tradition. Clement Moore then wrote An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas in 1823 borrowing from Irving this “portly rubicund Dutchman.” The poem had a massive impact on Christmas gift giving it should be noted. Suffice it to say this figment of 19th Century literature bore no resemblance to the original Saint Nicholas, a Bishop from fourth century Turkey.
Just as a by the way, New York also had one of the first public Christmas tree lightings. But this did not happen until the 20th Century, 1912 to be precise. Before then there were essentially no public Christmas tree lightings anywhere in America. [1]
Here’s my point: what we do not realize, since a certain secular way of observing Christmas has been present for our entire lifetime these are new traditions. Acknowledging that these are new traditions leads me to a question.
Have we taken up the challenge of Paul about making the Christian tradition— not the Christmas tradition but the Christian tradition— our own? Or are we merely passive participants in what are obviously traditions based in the culture. Coming back to the Christmas traditions— for instance, these traditions about Christmas from Santa Claus to Christmas Trees?
Put another way, have we asked ourselves deep questions about Christian traditions around what the birth of the Messiah might mean? Have we asked ourselves not just what is the joy we should consider today, the day on which we celebrate joy. Have we asked ourselves why the child of Elizabeth might leap for joy? (Slight pause.)
When the reading from Luke was introduced, this was said. (Quote:) “Luke writes about not one birth narrative. Luke has a number of stories and two births in the first two chapters, and all of them are important.” (Slight pause.)
What makes these other sections important is the clarity they bring to the birth of the Messiah. How does this section of the First Chapter make the Second Chapter reading more clear?
I think some of the secular, cultural traditions we’ve developed over time get in the way of the real claim being made by Scripture. This is the claim: joy abounds because the proclamation here made is that this is not just a pastoral story of shepherds and the baby. This is the birth of the promised Messiah. And this is why we are joyful. (Slight pause.)
Theologian John Dominic Crossan says the one who leaps in the womb of Elizabeth, John, the one who goes before Jesus preaching, this Baptizer, has it wrong. John preaches that the Dominion of God will happen soon. Jesus, the cousin of John, says, “No, no that’s not quite right.” The Dominion of God is now, right now. And Jesus says we are invited to participate in that Dominion, now— right now.
Why? The Messiah is here— right now. The Messiah is present, is real, now. That’s the reason to be joyful. And we are invited by God to participate in the Dominion, now.
Here’s another way to put it. Jesus insists our lives are not about waiting for a second coming. Jesus insists our lives are about being willing to deal with the present reality of the first coming— Immanuel— God with us. (Slight pause.)
My friend Rebecca Fraser is a college professor and a talented poet. She is fond of writing in haiku, a Japanese style of poetry, often a three-line observation about a fleeting moment. Yesterday she posted this Christmas haiku but it had eight stanzas, not just one. Hence the title of this poem, this haiku, is A Christmas Haiku Times Eight.
Up and on the couch / With coffee at five a. m. / White lights, dark morning.
Slowly a gray sky / Emerges and I savor / The quiet and peace.
Comfortable and so / Uncomfortable knowing / Many are without.
Injustice explodes / Before my eyes when I choose / To see this darkness.
Come Emmanuel / Teach me love and compassion / Outside my safe home.
Show me where to care / And when to reach out a hand, / Present. Eye to eye.
And this is Christmas / Dark and light intermingle / Till light pierces dark.
Hope is born anew / And dreams of old women speak / Truth into worldly lies. [2]
Old women... old women like Elizabeth speak truth. And we— old and young— we are called to speak truth into worldly lies. Perhaps one truth is we fail to acknowledge the real joy of the advent of the Messiah. We fail to acknowledge is the real joy of the advent of the Messiah because we ignore the real truth of the first coming.
We ignore the real truth of the first coming by overlaying it with culturally acceptable practices. And what is the truth of Scripture as opposed to the truth of the culture? God... is... present. (Slight pause.)
Let us, this Christmas, this celebration of the first coming which we call Christmas, fully know the joy and the truth expressed by Scripture: God is with us, now. Let us celebrate the joy of the first coming by dealing with injustice, by dealing with our fears, by dealing with oppression, by dealing with violence.
Let us understand that the first coming means God is at our side on this journey. That is what Christmas is about. Christmas is about, therefore, fully understanding the hope, the peace, the love, the joy of God Who is present and Who is with us. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
12/20/2015
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “Why are Christians invited to celebrate joy on this Sunday? Because the Christ is with us. This is not a statement in the past tense. The Christ is with us and our claim, as Christians, is the transformation of the world began with the birth of the Christ. That transformation is not simply an internal, private, spiritual reality. That transformation is an external, societal, communal process because the Dominion of God is among us. And we are invited to participate in that transformation.”
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.
[1]
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/18/nyregion/new-york-today-a-little-history-of-christmas.html?emc=edit_ur_20151218&nl=nytoday&nlid=11820119
[2] Used with permission.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
SERMON ~ 12/13/2015 ~ “Love?”
12/13/2015 ~ Third Sunday of Advent ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Love Is Celebrated ~ Zephaniah 3:14-20; Isaiah 12:2-6; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18 ~ Music Sunday ~ Sing Out and Celebrate Sunday ~ Readings Added for Music Sunday ~ Micah 5:1-3 [ILV]; Isaiah 11:1-6, 10 [ILV].
Love?
“Sing aloud! Shout for joy / O fair Zion; / shout, O Israel and be glad! / Rejoice and exult with all your heart, / O fair Jerusalem!” — Zephaniah 3:14.
I need to start with three disclaimers. First, I do not normally make any comments on a Music Sunday. Our musicians always preach far better than that for which my limited abilities allow, as was true today. Second, I am loathe to inflict a lengthy hardship on anyone with what I add, so I shall be brief.
Third, why say anything today? The observant among you will notice my sermon titles the first two Sundays in Advent have matched the Christian virtues celebrated, hope and peace. Each of those titles were followed with a question mark— Hope? — Peace?
The title today is Love followed by a question mark. I am sure you can guess what the title will be next week. I was loathe to break up the set.
Now, as you heard when the reading from Zephaniah was introduced, some of the gloomiest passages in the Hebrew Scriptures appear in this writing. Then, without warning, the night dissipates, the day breaks in when these words are uttered. Which poses the question, why is the prophet suddenly jubilant? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest the prophet realizes one thing. God is in love with humanity. Let me repeat that: God is in love with humanity. And this is why the prophet is ecstatic. Hence, this reading is used in Advent because Christians realize that the Incarnation, the birth of the Christ, this in-breaking of God, reenforces the love of God for us and the love of God is present in ways far beyond our understanding.
The late poet Madeleine L’Engle explains this sentiment well. This is her poem First Coming. (Slight pause.)
“This One did not wait till the world was ready, / till humans and nations were at peace, / but came when the Heavens were unsteady, / and prisoners cried out for release.”
“Nor did this One wait for the perfect time, / but came when the need was deep and great / and dined with sinners in all their grime, / turned water into wine.”
“This One did not wait till hearts were pure. / But in joy came to a tarnished world of sin, of doubt, / to a world— like ours— of anguished shame / this One came, and this / Light would not go out.”
“This One came to a world which did not mesh, / to heal its tangles, shield its scorn, / in the mystery of the Word made Flesh / the Maker of the stars was born.”
“We cannot wait till the world is sane / to raise our songs with joyful voice, / for to share our grief, to touch our pain, / This One came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!” (Slight pause.)
As I suggested, both our musicians and also Madeleine L’Engle address the Word better than I. And it seems to me it does boil down to this: God loves us— all humanity... God loves all humanity in our frailty— what an amazing gift. Amen.
121/13/2015
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
BENEDICTION: Let us go in hope and in joy and in peace, for we find love in the One who has made covenant with us. And, indeed, God reigns. 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.
Love?
“Sing aloud! Shout for joy / O fair Zion; / shout, O Israel and be glad! / Rejoice and exult with all your heart, / O fair Jerusalem!” — Zephaniah 3:14.
I need to start with three disclaimers. First, I do not normally make any comments on a Music Sunday. Our musicians always preach far better than that for which my limited abilities allow, as was true today. Second, I am loathe to inflict a lengthy hardship on anyone with what I add, so I shall be brief.
Third, why say anything today? The observant among you will notice my sermon titles the first two Sundays in Advent have matched the Christian virtues celebrated, hope and peace. Each of those titles were followed with a question mark— Hope? — Peace?
The title today is Love followed by a question mark. I am sure you can guess what the title will be next week. I was loathe to break up the set.
Now, as you heard when the reading from Zephaniah was introduced, some of the gloomiest passages in the Hebrew Scriptures appear in this writing. Then, without warning, the night dissipates, the day breaks in when these words are uttered. Which poses the question, why is the prophet suddenly jubilant? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest the prophet realizes one thing. God is in love with humanity. Let me repeat that: God is in love with humanity. And this is why the prophet is ecstatic. Hence, this reading is used in Advent because Christians realize that the Incarnation, the birth of the Christ, this in-breaking of God, reenforces the love of God for us and the love of God is present in ways far beyond our understanding.
The late poet Madeleine L’Engle explains this sentiment well. This is her poem First Coming. (Slight pause.)
“This One did not wait till the world was ready, / till humans and nations were at peace, / but came when the Heavens were unsteady, / and prisoners cried out for release.”
“Nor did this One wait for the perfect time, / but came when the need was deep and great / and dined with sinners in all their grime, / turned water into wine.”
“This One did not wait till hearts were pure. / But in joy came to a tarnished world of sin, of doubt, / to a world— like ours— of anguished shame / this One came, and this / Light would not go out.”
“This One came to a world which did not mesh, / to heal its tangles, shield its scorn, / in the mystery of the Word made Flesh / the Maker of the stars was born.”
“We cannot wait till the world is sane / to raise our songs with joyful voice, / for to share our grief, to touch our pain, / This One came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!” (Slight pause.)
As I suggested, both our musicians and also Madeleine L’Engle address the Word better than I. And it seems to me it does boil down to this: God loves us— all humanity... God loves all humanity in our frailty— what an amazing gift. Amen.
121/13/2015
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
BENEDICTION: Let us go in hope and in joy and in peace, for we find love in the One who has made covenant with us. And, indeed, God reigns. 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.
Sunday, December 6, 2015
SERMON ~ 12/06/2015 ~ “Peace?”
12/06/2015 ~ Second Sunday of Advent ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Peace Is Celebrated ~ Communion Sunday ~ Baruch 5:1-9 or Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 1:68-79; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6.
Peace?
“In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea; Herod was Tetrarch of Galilee; Philip, his brother, was Tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was Tetrarch of Abilene.” — Luke 3:1.
I hope it will not come as a surprise to you if I say I study Scripture. Aside from the fact that I am a pastor, why study Scripture? After all, being a pastor does not qualify me and me alone to study Scripture. It’s something we can, all of us and each of us, do.
In fact, one of our Pilgrim ancestors, John Robinson, said this just before leaving Europe: “God has yet more light and truth to break forth out of the holy Word.” That’s the short version as to why one should study Scripture— seeking light, seeking truth— these are there and yet to break forth.
Back to the thought that I might study Scripture and, more to the point, as I studied this week, I was looking at the specific verse I recited. This is precisely the place from where light and truth seemed to break forth for me. So let me explain that.
I need to start by saying chapters and verses are inventions of the 13th and 16th Century, respectively and are not a part of the original manuscript. Still, the text has a specific structure. There clearly are sections to the story.
And, as was indicated when this reading was introduced, the overall story seems to restart at this point. That restart is more obvious and pronounced than we might think.
You see, in the first verses of the first chapter of this Gospel we find an erudite introduction. It copies the form of great classical Greek and Latin writers. Further, the work is addressed to one Theophilus, clearly a Roman of high station.
Once the introduction is out of the way, the story begins. But to whom and how this work is written is pivotal when one recognizes how the next two sections start.
You are, unquestionably, familiar with the first words of the second section. (Quote:) “In those days the Emperor Augustus published a decree ordering a census of the Roman world.” This is not just a clear reference to Rome. This states a time, a place within the context of Rome.
Then we get the opening words of this section, the words we just heard. Yet again, this is a clear reference to Rome, a statement of a time, place within the context of Rome.
So, what’s significant about that? What is the import of citing Rome at the start of the first three sections in this work? (Slight pause.) If nothing else is clear to you about the New Testament, this should be: from beginning to end, from the Letters of Paul, the earliest writing in the New Testament, to the Gospels, to the later writings, Christian Scripture is an indictment of the Roman Empire.
Hence, that these first sections, all three of them, start with references to Rome is not happenstance and should not be a surprise. It also needs to be said, if the reader knows nothing about the Roman Empire, then it’s not easy to understand some of the issues being engaged in this text.
Let me illustrate that with one fact many gloss over when reading the New Testament. The Army of Rome occupies the land of the Jews. The Romans set up Herod, a Jew, as a puppet ruler.
They needed only a small garrison of soldiers in this place in part because they maintained order by killing people, by crucifying people. Jesus is, unquestionably, crucified. Jesus is crucified not by the Jews but by the Roman Empire.
But we also need to recognize Jesus is just one of probably ten thousand Jews the Roman Empire crucifies in the land of the Jews each and every year in an effort to terrorize. Instilling fear and committing acts of violence is a modus operandi, a method of operation, an institutional way of doing business for the Roman Empire.
Here is an unfortunate truth. Fear and violence are a modus operandi of any empire. Fear and violence are an institutional way of doing business which extends from the Romans to each and every empire throughout the ages to this very day.
And let us not think, even for a minute, that we fail to have empires today. Further, for we humans, fear and violence seems to be a way we organize ourselves, especially when that organization is matched with the self-aggrandizing thirst for power and domination associated with empire. To be clear: empires always practice violence, all kinds of violence— economic violence, social violence, structural violence, physical violence— there are all kinds and shapes of fear and violence practiced and empires are outstanding practitioners.
Which is also to say, when we look at Scripture, when we study Scripture, one aspect we need to examine is not just the fact that Scripture condemns fear and violence. Scripture is especially vocal in its condemnation of the fear and the violence associated with empire— any empire. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in Luke/Acts in the section commonly referred to as Luke: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea; Herod was Tetrarch of Galilee; Philip, his brother, was Tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was Tetrarch of Abilene.” (Slight pause.)
To this day all over what was the Roman Empire there are inscriptions on ancient public buildings with these words: “Peace through victory.” Those words represent and display the theology of the Roman Empire.
Make no mistake about it. What a theology of ‘peace through victory,’ means is this: if we crush the spirit of those we encounter with fear and subjugate them with violence we will attain the peace we want. The peace we want is safety for us and only for us. Others do not count. (Slight pause.)
The choice offered by Scripture seems clear. It asks the question ‘are we to buy into the reign of empire, a reign of terror maintained through fear and through violence or are we to heed and to seek the reign of God?’ Given that analysis it is, you see, hard to not view the entire New Testament as a challenge to the reign of terror, the reign of fear, the reign of violence imposed by empire.
Why did that reign of terror, that reign of fear, that reign of violence exist in the empire? It seems to me we humans are both addicted to violence— economic violence, social violence, structural violence, physical violence and we strive to perpetrate on each other and the world in which we live economic violence, social violence, structural violence, physical violence.
If you’ve been reading the headlines in the last couple of weeks, you know that. If you’ve been paying attention to what Scripture says, if you study Scripture— the Bible which was written between three thousand and two thousand years ago— you know that also.
And if you pay attention to the reign of God rather than the reign of empire you understand that to use fear or violence is never an appropriate response to the world. (Slight pause.) So, what tools might that give the people of God? (Slight pause.) People who strive to adhere to the reign of God attempt to use compassion, attempt to use judgment, attempt to seek hope, attempt to pursue joy, attempt to embrace love and attempt to work for peace— true peace— the peace of God. (Slight pause.)
This is the day on which the church, in its wisdom and in its tradition, celebrates the peace of God. That begs the question: what is the peace of God? Certainly the peace of God is not about empire. But is the peace of God the absence of violence? (Slight pause.)
The promise we hear in Scripture is that the peace of God is with us, present. Indeed, one title for Caesar was Source of Peace, sometimes called Prince of Peace. So, in using Source of Peace/Prince of Peace as a title for the Messiah, Scripture is not just mocking Rome and mocking empire. Scripture is making a claim about the Christ.
The claim is Christ lives. The claim is Christ is with us. The claim is Christ is among us. And, indeed, the claim being made is that the peace of the reign of God is present to us because in Christ God is with us.
God walks among us. God is at our side. Put another way, the claim which says the peace of God is real is a claim which says the presence of God is real. (Slight pause.)
Given the fear and violence we see around us, there is a theological word that covers what we need to do. It is a word that’s fallen out of favor on both the theological left and the theological right.
This word has fallen out of favor because no one understands what is means anymore. The word is repent. The word means we need to turn toward God. Repent: we need to turn toward God, work toward and cultivate the reign of God— the meaning of the word repent. (Slight pause.)
Perhaps in so doing it is we who will be empowered to make the crooked straight and the rough plain. But we need to repent.
In a moment you will hear a song which has these words: “Stay close by My side / Keep your eyes on Me / Though this life is hard / I will give you perfect peace.” [1] God... is... with... us.
That God is with us should reenforce the idea that we need to work for justice, participate in the justice of God— the justice God wants and the justice God sees for all. And that justice is not the justice of empire. The justice of empire is about who has what and who controls whom.
The justice of empire is about violence. The justice of empire is about fear. The justice of empire is about victory.
The justice of God, the justice of God is about love, joy, hope, trust, freedom. And, indeed, the justice of God is about peace, God’s peace— the presence of God. Amen.
12/06/2015
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 a précis of what was said: “I said earlier we can see the entire New Testament as a challenge to the reign of terror, the fear and the violence perpetrated by the empire. Here is further proof of the challenge of the New Testament to empire. This is a list of titles: ‘source or prince of peace,’ ‘son of god,’ ‘the one to be worshiped,’ ‘savior of the world.’ No these are not the titles of the Christ. These are the titles of Caesar. The fact that these are, in turn, applied to the Christ is meant to mock the fear and violence of the reign of Rome and to proclaim the reign of God.”
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 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. Let us go in peace for God is with us. Amen.
Perfect Peace by Laura Story, Sung by Mary Williams.
Peace?
“In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea; Herod was Tetrarch of Galilee; Philip, his brother, was Tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was Tetrarch of Abilene.” — Luke 3:1.
I hope it will not come as a surprise to you if I say I study Scripture. Aside from the fact that I am a pastor, why study Scripture? After all, being a pastor does not qualify me and me alone to study Scripture. It’s something we can, all of us and each of us, do.
In fact, one of our Pilgrim ancestors, John Robinson, said this just before leaving Europe: “God has yet more light and truth to break forth out of the holy Word.” That’s the short version as to why one should study Scripture— seeking light, seeking truth— these are there and yet to break forth.
Back to the thought that I might study Scripture and, more to the point, as I studied this week, I was looking at the specific verse I recited. This is precisely the place from where light and truth seemed to break forth for me. So let me explain that.
I need to start by saying chapters and verses are inventions of the 13th and 16th Century, respectively and are not a part of the original manuscript. Still, the text has a specific structure. There clearly are sections to the story.
And, as was indicated when this reading was introduced, the overall story seems to restart at this point. That restart is more obvious and pronounced than we might think.
You see, in the first verses of the first chapter of this Gospel we find an erudite introduction. It copies the form of great classical Greek and Latin writers. Further, the work is addressed to one Theophilus, clearly a Roman of high station.
Once the introduction is out of the way, the story begins. But to whom and how this work is written is pivotal when one recognizes how the next two sections start.
You are, unquestionably, familiar with the first words of the second section. (Quote:) “In those days the Emperor Augustus published a decree ordering a census of the Roman world.” This is not just a clear reference to Rome. This states a time, a place within the context of Rome.
Then we get the opening words of this section, the words we just heard. Yet again, this is a clear reference to Rome, a statement of a time, place within the context of Rome.
So, what’s significant about that? What is the import of citing Rome at the start of the first three sections in this work? (Slight pause.) If nothing else is clear to you about the New Testament, this should be: from beginning to end, from the Letters of Paul, the earliest writing in the New Testament, to the Gospels, to the later writings, Christian Scripture is an indictment of the Roman Empire.
Hence, that these first sections, all three of them, start with references to Rome is not happenstance and should not be a surprise. It also needs to be said, if the reader knows nothing about the Roman Empire, then it’s not easy to understand some of the issues being engaged in this text.
Let me illustrate that with one fact many gloss over when reading the New Testament. The Army of Rome occupies the land of the Jews. The Romans set up Herod, a Jew, as a puppet ruler.
They needed only a small garrison of soldiers in this place in part because they maintained order by killing people, by crucifying people. Jesus is, unquestionably, crucified. Jesus is crucified not by the Jews but by the Roman Empire.
But we also need to recognize Jesus is just one of probably ten thousand Jews the Roman Empire crucifies in the land of the Jews each and every year in an effort to terrorize. Instilling fear and committing acts of violence is a modus operandi, a method of operation, an institutional way of doing business for the Roman Empire.
Here is an unfortunate truth. Fear and violence are a modus operandi of any empire. Fear and violence are an institutional way of doing business which extends from the Romans to each and every empire throughout the ages to this very day.
And let us not think, even for a minute, that we fail to have empires today. Further, for we humans, fear and violence seems to be a way we organize ourselves, especially when that organization is matched with the self-aggrandizing thirst for power and domination associated with empire. To be clear: empires always practice violence, all kinds of violence— economic violence, social violence, structural violence, physical violence— there are all kinds and shapes of fear and violence practiced and empires are outstanding practitioners.
Which is also to say, when we look at Scripture, when we study Scripture, one aspect we need to examine is not just the fact that Scripture condemns fear and violence. Scripture is especially vocal in its condemnation of the fear and the violence associated with empire— any empire. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in Luke/Acts in the section commonly referred to as Luke: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea; Herod was Tetrarch of Galilee; Philip, his brother, was Tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was Tetrarch of Abilene.” (Slight pause.)
To this day all over what was the Roman Empire there are inscriptions on ancient public buildings with these words: “Peace through victory.” Those words represent and display the theology of the Roman Empire.
Make no mistake about it. What a theology of ‘peace through victory,’ means is this: if we crush the spirit of those we encounter with fear and subjugate them with violence we will attain the peace we want. The peace we want is safety for us and only for us. Others do not count. (Slight pause.)
The choice offered by Scripture seems clear. It asks the question ‘are we to buy into the reign of empire, a reign of terror maintained through fear and through violence or are we to heed and to seek the reign of God?’ Given that analysis it is, you see, hard to not view the entire New Testament as a challenge to the reign of terror, the reign of fear, the reign of violence imposed by empire.
Why did that reign of terror, that reign of fear, that reign of violence exist in the empire? It seems to me we humans are both addicted to violence— economic violence, social violence, structural violence, physical violence and we strive to perpetrate on each other and the world in which we live economic violence, social violence, structural violence, physical violence.
If you’ve been reading the headlines in the last couple of weeks, you know that. If you’ve been paying attention to what Scripture says, if you study Scripture— the Bible which was written between three thousand and two thousand years ago— you know that also.
And if you pay attention to the reign of God rather than the reign of empire you understand that to use fear or violence is never an appropriate response to the world. (Slight pause.) So, what tools might that give the people of God? (Slight pause.) People who strive to adhere to the reign of God attempt to use compassion, attempt to use judgment, attempt to seek hope, attempt to pursue joy, attempt to embrace love and attempt to work for peace— true peace— the peace of God. (Slight pause.)
This is the day on which the church, in its wisdom and in its tradition, celebrates the peace of God. That begs the question: what is the peace of God? Certainly the peace of God is not about empire. But is the peace of God the absence of violence? (Slight pause.)
The promise we hear in Scripture is that the peace of God is with us, present. Indeed, one title for Caesar was Source of Peace, sometimes called Prince of Peace. So, in using Source of Peace/Prince of Peace as a title for the Messiah, Scripture is not just mocking Rome and mocking empire. Scripture is making a claim about the Christ.
The claim is Christ lives. The claim is Christ is with us. The claim is Christ is among us. And, indeed, the claim being made is that the peace of the reign of God is present to us because in Christ God is with us.
God walks among us. God is at our side. Put another way, the claim which says the peace of God is real is a claim which says the presence of God is real. (Slight pause.)
Given the fear and violence we see around us, there is a theological word that covers what we need to do. It is a word that’s fallen out of favor on both the theological left and the theological right.
This word has fallen out of favor because no one understands what is means anymore. The word is repent. The word means we need to turn toward God. Repent: we need to turn toward God, work toward and cultivate the reign of God— the meaning of the word repent. (Slight pause.)
Perhaps in so doing it is we who will be empowered to make the crooked straight and the rough plain. But we need to repent.
In a moment you will hear a song which has these words: “Stay close by My side / Keep your eyes on Me / Though this life is hard / I will give you perfect peace.” [1] God... is... with... us.
That God is with us should reenforce the idea that we need to work for justice, participate in the justice of God— the justice God wants and the justice God sees for all. And that justice is not the justice of empire. The justice of empire is about who has what and who controls whom.
The justice of empire is about violence. The justice of empire is about fear. The justice of empire is about victory.
The justice of God, the justice of God is about love, joy, hope, trust, freedom. And, indeed, the justice of God is about peace, God’s peace— the presence of God. Amen.
12/06/2015
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 a précis of what was said: “I said earlier we can see the entire New Testament as a challenge to the reign of terror, the fear and the violence perpetrated by the empire. Here is further proof of the challenge of the New Testament to empire. This is a list of titles: ‘source or prince of peace,’ ‘son of god,’ ‘the one to be worshiped,’ ‘savior of the world.’ No these are not the titles of the Christ. These are the titles of Caesar. The fact that these are, in turn, applied to the Christ is meant to mock the fear and violence of the reign of Rome and to proclaim the reign of God.”
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 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. Let us go in peace for God is with us. Amen.
Perfect Peace by Laura Story, Sung by Mary Williams.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
SERMON ~ 11/29/2015 ~ “Hope?”
11/29/2015 ~ First Sunday in Year ‘C’ of the Three Year Lectionary Cycle ~ First Sunday of Advent ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Hope Is Celebrated ~ Jeremiah 33:14-16; Psalm 25:1-10; 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13; Luke 21:25-36.
Hope?
“People will faint from fear in anticipation of what is coming upon the earth. The powers in the heavens will be shaken.” — Luke 21:26
I have oftentimes referred to my work in theater in my Sunday comments. But, more broadly, work in the theater involves a number of formats, mediums.
For me personally, aside from the stage, the work ranged from time in the recording studio to developing club acts to work in children’s theater. In fact, people on the inside show business refer to it as simply “the business.” (Slight pause.) Now, I have heard it said by people outside “the business” that vaudeville is dead.
People inside the business never say that. Why? Vaudeville is, by definition, nothing more than a series of unrelated, often varied presentations by different artists.
So people inside “the business” realize vaudeville is not dead but has merely migrated to other mediums. These include television, night clubs, recordings, the circus, comedy clubs— the list goes on.
A place to which vaudeville once migrated but now, like vaudeville, is a venue which has itself migrated, was the so called Borscht Circuit, Borscht Belt. As many of you know since it was not that far away from here, the Borscht Belt was a circuit of vacation spots in the Catskills. As an entertainment medium, the resorts were best known for its stand up comedy stars.
I’m going to rattle off a list of comedians who appeared at Borscht Belt resorts. It’s likely older folks among us will recognize all the names. But even the young will recognize some of the names, as many of them were and are well known both as comedians and in other ways— as writers, producers, directors.
This list just skims the surface. Woody Allen, Morey Amsterdam, Jack Benny, Joey Bishop, Mel Brooks— most of you I think know Mel Brooks— George Burns, Gracie Allen, Red Buttons, Sid Caesar, Rodney Dangerfield, Buddy Hackett, Harvey Korman, Jerry Lewis, Carl Reiner, Don Rickles, Joan Rivers, both Rowan & Martin, Jonathan Winters, Henny Youngman, Jackie Vernon.
Even though he is probably a lesser known personality on that list, I have always had an affinity for Jackie Vernon. Perhaps that’s because he had a distinct, dry, deadpan sense of humor.
He recited odd monologues where nothing seemed to work out for him. His bits included lines like: “I was unpopular as a kid— Dale Carnegie once hit me in the mouth.” “I called Dial-a-Prayer— they hung up on me.”
Another routine was the “Vacation Slide Show.” No slides were visible; your imagination made them real. All he did was described the slides while using a hand-clicker which signaled the advance of each unseen picture. “(Click:) Here I am, tossing in coins at a toll booth. (Click:) Here I am, under the car looking for the coins.”
In yet another monologue he talked about his Uncle Ralph. “My Uncle Ralph,” he said, “always predicted the world would end on March the Second, 1958.” Then he’d pause. “For him it did.” That’s a real apocalypse, isn’t it. (Slight pause.)
These words are in the Gospel we have come to know as Luke: “People will faint from fear in anticipation of what is coming upon the earth. The powers in the heavens will be shaken.” (Slight pause.)
In order to try to make sense of this reading there are a number of things to be considered. First, it is a modernism to see the end times, the apocalypse, in personal terms, an idea illustrated by Jackie Vernon’s Uncle Ralph.
To see the end of the world as if it played out exclusively on an individual level, only in our time, is absurd. The Uncle Ralph story is funny because we know a personal version of the end times is absurd.
In fact, a question sometimes posed by people both worried about and predicting an apocalypse is straightforward. “Will you be among the 144,000 thousand?”
Why? The 144,000 is mentioned twice in the book of Revelation as the servants of God who will be the redeemed. And that’s a small number, is it not? So, the real question offered by those who dwell on this number is obvious since it relies on fear and is phrased in the form of a threat. How will you, personally, get to be among the select.
There are, needless to say, problems with that predictive analysis. As I suggested, seeing this in personal terms is a modern conceit. But more importantly, in ancient times people were concerned with the collective, the whole, the entire society, everyone.
Hence, 144,000 was not meant to be seen as an absolute, exact number or taken on a personal level. It was meant as a sign of completion or perfection for society as a whole.
Next, as was mentioned when the reading was introduced, we know this work was written at least fifty years after Jesus was raised and probably later. Those who recorded these words knew the apocalypse had not arrived and likely understood it was not about to arrive.
That having been said, there is yet another aspect to consider, a contrast we need to draw, when we look at apocalyptic literature in Scripture. The contrast is we need to look at modern apocalyptic literature, popular in our society today. “Joe,” I hear you protest, “what do you mean modern apocalyptic literature is popular?”
Well, this is a very abbreviated list of movies currently, recently or about to be in release and/or current TV programs. Victor Frankenstein; The Hunger Games— all four of them; The Martian; The Walking Dead; The Game of Thrones; Star Wars— all seven of them; Doctor Who— all 50 years of it.
My friends, all these are in some way modern apocalyptic literature and none of these has anything to do with the end times, even though that is a recurring theme. These are about issues we face today in our time.
These are written today; these are about issues we face today. I think most of us understand that. Put another way, apocalyptic literature, especially in Scripture is always reflective— always reflective— of what people are facing. Apocalyptic literature is never predictive— never predictive.
This poses an obvious question: if ancient writings which sound apocalyptic are not about the end times, what are they about? Or, perhaps more to the point for today: what is this passage about? (Slight pause.)
First things first: why might an apocalyptic passage appear in what was even then— in that era— was called the good news? Well, what you need to ask is ‘what were the experiences of the people who recorded these words and first read these words?’ (Slight pause.)
What they saw was the complete and utter destruction of what had been Israel by Rome. Jerusalem is destroyed in the year 70 of the Common Era and the Jewish population experiences a diaspora. They are banished from their homes, their territory.
No longer welcome or safe where they had lived, they become refugees scattered across the Mediterranean. In short, they survived but what they witnessed, what they saw, felt like some kind of apocalypse. Hence, that they might write an apocalyptic piece of literature contained in the good news has little to do with predictions and a lot to do with a reflection about their experience.
Next, if this section is a type of apocalyptic literature— and it is— we need to ask ‘what does it mean?’ rather than ‘what does it say?’ In terms of meaning, I think the proclamation is simple. The Messiah has come. The Messiah is with us.
Indeed, from the first words of Luke that has been the message of this Gospel: the Messiah is real, present, with us. That the message of the presence of the Messiah might be reiterated, here in apocalyptic terms, is not out of character with the rest of the Gospel.
That leaves a final question: ‘why does the church, in its wisdom, assign an apocalyptic reading to the First Sunday in Advent and then label that Sunday as a day on which hope is celebrated?’ After all, what is hopeful about apocalyptic literature? (Slight pause.)
Well this is what I think: hope is where a deeper meaning of these words lie. You see, by definition hope is never in the present tense. Hope, by definition, cannot be about what is complete. Hope is about what is to be.
Therefore, a proclamation that says the Messiah is real, is present, is with us is an invitation to the future— an invitation to the future, not a prediction about the future. More importantly, this is an invitation to us to participate in the Dominion of God now, right now, because the Messiah is real, present, with us.
So yes, we celebrate hope in Advent. We have hope not because of what might or will happen. We have hope because God is with us now, not in some other place, time or space. God is with us now as we move toward the future. We have hope because we have been invited by God through the presence of the Messiah to participate in the Dominion of God.
So today, let us go from this place filled with hope and, therefore, filled with a desire to walk in the ways of God. Today let us go forth not succumbing to fear but proclaiming hope.
Today let us go from this place filled with hope because we are empowered to work toward the reality of God’s world. And the reality of God’s world is known to us in the words we celebrate in this Season of Advent: hope, peace, joy, love. Amen.
11/29/2015
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 a précis of what was said: “Why was there apocalyptic literature in New Testament times and why is apocalyptic literature today? We, like those who lived in New Testament Times, apparently are being told we need to live in fear. But we, like those who lived in New Testament times, need to be clear that the Advent of the Messiah means hope, not fear leads us toward faithfulness. Why does hope lead us toward faithfulness? The Messiah, the Christ, is present, is real, is with us.”
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.
Hope?
“People will faint from fear in anticipation of what is coming upon the earth. The powers in the heavens will be shaken.” — Luke 21:26
I have oftentimes referred to my work in theater in my Sunday comments. But, more broadly, work in the theater involves a number of formats, mediums.
For me personally, aside from the stage, the work ranged from time in the recording studio to developing club acts to work in children’s theater. In fact, people on the inside show business refer to it as simply “the business.” (Slight pause.) Now, I have heard it said by people outside “the business” that vaudeville is dead.
People inside the business never say that. Why? Vaudeville is, by definition, nothing more than a series of unrelated, often varied presentations by different artists.
So people inside “the business” realize vaudeville is not dead but has merely migrated to other mediums. These include television, night clubs, recordings, the circus, comedy clubs— the list goes on.
A place to which vaudeville once migrated but now, like vaudeville, is a venue which has itself migrated, was the so called Borscht Circuit, Borscht Belt. As many of you know since it was not that far away from here, the Borscht Belt was a circuit of vacation spots in the Catskills. As an entertainment medium, the resorts were best known for its stand up comedy stars.
I’m going to rattle off a list of comedians who appeared at Borscht Belt resorts. It’s likely older folks among us will recognize all the names. But even the young will recognize some of the names, as many of them were and are well known both as comedians and in other ways— as writers, producers, directors.
This list just skims the surface. Woody Allen, Morey Amsterdam, Jack Benny, Joey Bishop, Mel Brooks— most of you I think know Mel Brooks— George Burns, Gracie Allen, Red Buttons, Sid Caesar, Rodney Dangerfield, Buddy Hackett, Harvey Korman, Jerry Lewis, Carl Reiner, Don Rickles, Joan Rivers, both Rowan & Martin, Jonathan Winters, Henny Youngman, Jackie Vernon.
Even though he is probably a lesser known personality on that list, I have always had an affinity for Jackie Vernon. Perhaps that’s because he had a distinct, dry, deadpan sense of humor.
He recited odd monologues where nothing seemed to work out for him. His bits included lines like: “I was unpopular as a kid— Dale Carnegie once hit me in the mouth.” “I called Dial-a-Prayer— they hung up on me.”
Another routine was the “Vacation Slide Show.” No slides were visible; your imagination made them real. All he did was described the slides while using a hand-clicker which signaled the advance of each unseen picture. “(Click:) Here I am, tossing in coins at a toll booth. (Click:) Here I am, under the car looking for the coins.”
In yet another monologue he talked about his Uncle Ralph. “My Uncle Ralph,” he said, “always predicted the world would end on March the Second, 1958.” Then he’d pause. “For him it did.” That’s a real apocalypse, isn’t it. (Slight pause.)
These words are in the Gospel we have come to know as Luke: “People will faint from fear in anticipation of what is coming upon the earth. The powers in the heavens will be shaken.” (Slight pause.)
In order to try to make sense of this reading there are a number of things to be considered. First, it is a modernism to see the end times, the apocalypse, in personal terms, an idea illustrated by Jackie Vernon’s Uncle Ralph.
To see the end of the world as if it played out exclusively on an individual level, only in our time, is absurd. The Uncle Ralph story is funny because we know a personal version of the end times is absurd.
In fact, a question sometimes posed by people both worried about and predicting an apocalypse is straightforward. “Will you be among the 144,000 thousand?”
Why? The 144,000 is mentioned twice in the book of Revelation as the servants of God who will be the redeemed. And that’s a small number, is it not? So, the real question offered by those who dwell on this number is obvious since it relies on fear and is phrased in the form of a threat. How will you, personally, get to be among the select.
There are, needless to say, problems with that predictive analysis. As I suggested, seeing this in personal terms is a modern conceit. But more importantly, in ancient times people were concerned with the collective, the whole, the entire society, everyone.
Hence, 144,000 was not meant to be seen as an absolute, exact number or taken on a personal level. It was meant as a sign of completion or perfection for society as a whole.
Next, as was mentioned when the reading was introduced, we know this work was written at least fifty years after Jesus was raised and probably later. Those who recorded these words knew the apocalypse had not arrived and likely understood it was not about to arrive.
That having been said, there is yet another aspect to consider, a contrast we need to draw, when we look at apocalyptic literature in Scripture. The contrast is we need to look at modern apocalyptic literature, popular in our society today. “Joe,” I hear you protest, “what do you mean modern apocalyptic literature is popular?”
Well, this is a very abbreviated list of movies currently, recently or about to be in release and/or current TV programs. Victor Frankenstein; The Hunger Games— all four of them; The Martian; The Walking Dead; The Game of Thrones; Star Wars— all seven of them; Doctor Who— all 50 years of it.
My friends, all these are in some way modern apocalyptic literature and none of these has anything to do with the end times, even though that is a recurring theme. These are about issues we face today in our time.
These are written today; these are about issues we face today. I think most of us understand that. Put another way, apocalyptic literature, especially in Scripture is always reflective— always reflective— of what people are facing. Apocalyptic literature is never predictive— never predictive.
This poses an obvious question: if ancient writings which sound apocalyptic are not about the end times, what are they about? Or, perhaps more to the point for today: what is this passage about? (Slight pause.)
First things first: why might an apocalyptic passage appear in what was even then— in that era— was called the good news? Well, what you need to ask is ‘what were the experiences of the people who recorded these words and first read these words?’ (Slight pause.)
What they saw was the complete and utter destruction of what had been Israel by Rome. Jerusalem is destroyed in the year 70 of the Common Era and the Jewish population experiences a diaspora. They are banished from their homes, their territory.
No longer welcome or safe where they had lived, they become refugees scattered across the Mediterranean. In short, they survived but what they witnessed, what they saw, felt like some kind of apocalypse. Hence, that they might write an apocalyptic piece of literature contained in the good news has little to do with predictions and a lot to do with a reflection about their experience.
Next, if this section is a type of apocalyptic literature— and it is— we need to ask ‘what does it mean?’ rather than ‘what does it say?’ In terms of meaning, I think the proclamation is simple. The Messiah has come. The Messiah is with us.
Indeed, from the first words of Luke that has been the message of this Gospel: the Messiah is real, present, with us. That the message of the presence of the Messiah might be reiterated, here in apocalyptic terms, is not out of character with the rest of the Gospel.
That leaves a final question: ‘why does the church, in its wisdom, assign an apocalyptic reading to the First Sunday in Advent and then label that Sunday as a day on which hope is celebrated?’ After all, what is hopeful about apocalyptic literature? (Slight pause.)
Well this is what I think: hope is where a deeper meaning of these words lie. You see, by definition hope is never in the present tense. Hope, by definition, cannot be about what is complete. Hope is about what is to be.
Therefore, a proclamation that says the Messiah is real, is present, is with us is an invitation to the future— an invitation to the future, not a prediction about the future. More importantly, this is an invitation to us to participate in the Dominion of God now, right now, because the Messiah is real, present, with us.
So yes, we celebrate hope in Advent. We have hope not because of what might or will happen. We have hope because God is with us now, not in some other place, time or space. God is with us now as we move toward the future. We have hope because we have been invited by God through the presence of the Messiah to participate in the Dominion of God.
So today, let us go from this place filled with hope and, therefore, filled with a desire to walk in the ways of God. Today let us go forth not succumbing to fear but proclaiming hope.
Today let us go from this place filled with hope because we are empowered to work toward the reality of God’s world. And the reality of God’s world is known to us in the words we celebrate in this Season of Advent: hope, peace, joy, love. Amen.
11/29/2015
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 a précis of what was said: “Why was there apocalyptic literature in New Testament times and why is apocalyptic literature today? We, like those who lived in New Testament Times, apparently are being told we need to live in fear. But we, like those who lived in New Testament times, need to be clear that the Advent of the Messiah means hope, not fear leads us toward faithfulness. Why does hope lead us toward faithfulness? The Messiah, the Christ, is present, is real, is with us.”
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.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
SERMON ~ 11/22/2015 ~ “Basilica — Reign”
November 22, 2015 ~ (Proper 29) ~ 34th Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Twenty-Sixth Sunday and Last Sunday after Pentecost ~ In Some Traditions Known as The Reign of Christ ~ 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.
Basilica — Reign
“Pilate asked, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus replied, ‘You say that I am a king. I was born and came into the world for one purpose: to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who seeks the truth hears my voice.’” — John 18:37.
I have mentioned here before that back in the early 1980s, when I lived in New York City, I had the privilege of meeting the Archbishop of Capetown, the Rev. Desmond Tutu. The Archbishop, of course, at one point won the Nobel Peace Prize. But that was after I met him.
If my memory is good (and I think it is) when he won the peace prize I walked around for two or three days pinching myself saying, “Wow! I met someone who won the Nobel Peace Prize! How about that?”
At the time I was a lay member of an Episcopal Church on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. That church and one on the Upper East Side conspired to bring Tutu to New York City for a week of lectures, workshops and services of worship. It goes without saying this was the time when apartheid was the law of South Africa.
A week before these events both the leadership of the churches and the members who had committed to attending the scheduled functions gathered to talk about what we might expect. Why? There were security issues to consider.
You see, the official policy of the United States concerning apartheid at that time was to engage South Africa economically while trying to persuade that government about the error of its ways. Tutu and others, including some large American corporations, were instead seeking at least limited sanctions and/or a full embargo on trade.
An embargo on South Africa did not pass Congress until years later, 1986. Since it was possible protesters from either or both sides of the issue might try to disrupt some of the proceedings we had to be ready and trained should a difficult situation arise.
The second security issue had to do with the government of South Africa. We were told that at all public events the Archbishop attended, agents of the South Africa government would also be in attendance.
They would be easy to identify. They would all be men— no women. They all had uniforms of a sort: blue blazer jackets and khaki pants. The jackets would have a distinctive lapel pin which identified them as government agents.
These agents would not be there to cause trouble or be disruptive. They would be there to listen to what the Archbishop said in public.
If Tutu said anything which could be deemed as treasonable, a record of it would be made and go into Desmond’s government file. Of course, by that point Desmond’s government file probably took up a number of cabinets, a whole wall I’m sure.
We were told to be friendly and polite to the agents but to not engage them in any conversation deeper than a discussion of the weather. You see, anything they overheard from us which could be construed as seditious, construed as encouraging rebellion, might be recorded also.
Well, the conference happened without problems or disruptions. And what did Desmond say? The Archbishop preached the Gospel. The Word Desmond shared said the realm of God is present among us— the realm of God is present here, now. (Slight pause.)
Now, some people say the Gospel, itself, is seditious. Others argue it is not. I would suggest, if the Gospel speaks the truth, the Gospel is seditious, at least seditious to the status quo. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work we have come to know as the Gospel according to the School of John: “Pilate asked, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus replied, ‘You say that I am a king. I was born and came into the world for one purpose: to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who seeks the truth hears my voice.’” (Slight pause.)
As you heard earlier, today is known in some traditions as the Feast of the Reign of Christ. But what does that mean and why do we get this story when the lectionary has largely been using Mark and Matthew throughout this church year? Why do we get this story from John?
Well, few stories in the Bible are told with such finesse and power as this one. The drama begins at Chapter 18, verse 28 and ends at Chapter 19, verse 22. I urge you to look it up and read it all. What we heard today is but one scene.
It interests me that today’s narrative contains the physical movement of Pilate back and forth from the inside to the outside of the Pretorium— outside where the religious authorities are. This positioning is meant to be ironic.
If the religious authorities entered the Pretorium they would be ritually defiled, unable to partake in Temple rituals. They are so pious that they want to remain ritually clean but are, at the same time, seeking to do away with the agent of God.
I would suggest these movements tie into yet another level of irony. The word here translated as “realm” is used three times. In other translations that word is sometimes translated as ‘dominion’ and sometimes as ‘kingdom.’ The underlying Greek word is ‘basicillia.’ In Latin it is ‘basilica.’
In the Roman tradition a basilica is the destination of a pilgrimage. But it is also often the seat of a Bishop. Bishops found it convenient to place themselves where pilgrims might arrive, make a contribution to the coffers of a shrine and, hence, to the see of the Bishop, a see being the bishop’s ecclesiastical jurisdiction.
The point is ‘basicillia’ is not real estate, is not a kingdom. A ‘basicillia’ is a jurisdiction. And the real jurisdiction of God is not limited by territory but exists throughout all time and space. And so the proclamation of Jesus we hear is that the jurisdiction of God is not limited by human concepts of territory or human understandings of power. (Slight pause.)
After all, how is it that Jesus speaks so boldly to someone who holds the power of life and death of every last person in that temporal realm. How is it that Jesus addresses the realm of God as if the temporal realm is of little import? (Slight pause.)
John makes it clear throughout this work that in Jesus we find the real presence of God with us. John is, after all, the only Gospel which contains the “I am” statements.
When Jesus says ‘I am the vine’ or ‘the light’ or ‘the truth,’ many take the objects of these statements ‘vine’ or ‘light’ or ‘truth,’ to be central. But the comparison intended by the writer of John is the subject of the sentence— “I am.” The name of God in Hebrew, Yahweh, means ‘I am.’ I am the way. I am the truth. I am the light. (Slight pause.)
This is my take away from all that: the realm of God, here proclaimed by Jesus, is not only unlimited but the realm of God is with us now, is present now, is real now. So Jesus is simply addressing that reality, that truth. (Slight pause.) These thoughts brings me back to Desmond Tutu.
The Archbishop also spoke the truth. Mahatma Gandhi spoke the truth. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke the truth. I think for all these people speaking the truth is about acknowledging the reality of God, the reality that the realm of God is present, is real.
Now, I can’t speak about Gandhi or King. I never met them. I met Desmond. In one session he was asked how he had the where-with-all to even face returning to South Africa where had no rights, where he was less than a second class citizen, where the threat of jail or death was real.
The Archbishop said two things. First, he spent at least two hours a day in prayer unless the demands on his time were extraordinary. Then he spent three hours.
Second, he always held one thing in front of him. No matter who he was addressing, the President of South Africa or of the President United States, primary allegiance was to God. He said by their nature governments produce politics because they try to balance competing needs. So their solutions tended toward the violent act of instilling fear— setting one side against another.
He also said God truly sought freedom, peace, hope, joy and love for all people, not for some. No one was in competition with anyone else for these in the realm of God, where God had jurisdiction. And God has jurisdiction everywhere.
Therefore, he said, if God has jurisdiction everywhere, the realm of God, is here and present... now. And since the realm of God is about freedom, peace, hope, joy and love there was nothing to fear. (Slight pause.)
The realm of God is not a territory. The realm of God has no limits and it is not limited. The realm of God has no limits and is not limited because the realm of God is about exactly what Archbishop said it is about: a jurisdiction that has no room, no room for fear. It is a jurisdiction that has no room, no room for violence.
If you identify fear, if you see violence, whoever is perpetrating that is saying that the realm of God is not a part of their lives. The realm of God only has room for freedom, for peace, for hope, for joy, for love. Amen.
11/22/2015 — Feast of the Reign of Christ
Untied 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 a précis of what was said: “Mahatma Gandhi said this ‘The enemy is fear. We think it is hate. But it is fear.’ I want to suggest fear has no place in the realm of God.”
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.
Basilica — Reign
“Pilate asked, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus replied, ‘You say that I am a king. I was born and came into the world for one purpose: to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who seeks the truth hears my voice.’” — John 18:37.
I have mentioned here before that back in the early 1980s, when I lived in New York City, I had the privilege of meeting the Archbishop of Capetown, the Rev. Desmond Tutu. The Archbishop, of course, at one point won the Nobel Peace Prize. But that was after I met him.
If my memory is good (and I think it is) when he won the peace prize I walked around for two or three days pinching myself saying, “Wow! I met someone who won the Nobel Peace Prize! How about that?”
At the time I was a lay member of an Episcopal Church on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. That church and one on the Upper East Side conspired to bring Tutu to New York City for a week of lectures, workshops and services of worship. It goes without saying this was the time when apartheid was the law of South Africa.
A week before these events both the leadership of the churches and the members who had committed to attending the scheduled functions gathered to talk about what we might expect. Why? There were security issues to consider.
You see, the official policy of the United States concerning apartheid at that time was to engage South Africa economically while trying to persuade that government about the error of its ways. Tutu and others, including some large American corporations, were instead seeking at least limited sanctions and/or a full embargo on trade.
An embargo on South Africa did not pass Congress until years later, 1986. Since it was possible protesters from either or both sides of the issue might try to disrupt some of the proceedings we had to be ready and trained should a difficult situation arise.
The second security issue had to do with the government of South Africa. We were told that at all public events the Archbishop attended, agents of the South Africa government would also be in attendance.
They would be easy to identify. They would all be men— no women. They all had uniforms of a sort: blue blazer jackets and khaki pants. The jackets would have a distinctive lapel pin which identified them as government agents.
These agents would not be there to cause trouble or be disruptive. They would be there to listen to what the Archbishop said in public.
If Tutu said anything which could be deemed as treasonable, a record of it would be made and go into Desmond’s government file. Of course, by that point Desmond’s government file probably took up a number of cabinets, a whole wall I’m sure.
We were told to be friendly and polite to the agents but to not engage them in any conversation deeper than a discussion of the weather. You see, anything they overheard from us which could be construed as seditious, construed as encouraging rebellion, might be recorded also.
Well, the conference happened without problems or disruptions. And what did Desmond say? The Archbishop preached the Gospel. The Word Desmond shared said the realm of God is present among us— the realm of God is present here, now. (Slight pause.)
Now, some people say the Gospel, itself, is seditious. Others argue it is not. I would suggest, if the Gospel speaks the truth, the Gospel is seditious, at least seditious to the status quo. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work we have come to know as the Gospel according to the School of John: “Pilate asked, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus replied, ‘You say that I am a king. I was born and came into the world for one purpose: to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who seeks the truth hears my voice.’” (Slight pause.)
As you heard earlier, today is known in some traditions as the Feast of the Reign of Christ. But what does that mean and why do we get this story when the lectionary has largely been using Mark and Matthew throughout this church year? Why do we get this story from John?
Well, few stories in the Bible are told with such finesse and power as this one. The drama begins at Chapter 18, verse 28 and ends at Chapter 19, verse 22. I urge you to look it up and read it all. What we heard today is but one scene.
It interests me that today’s narrative contains the physical movement of Pilate back and forth from the inside to the outside of the Pretorium— outside where the religious authorities are. This positioning is meant to be ironic.
If the religious authorities entered the Pretorium they would be ritually defiled, unable to partake in Temple rituals. They are so pious that they want to remain ritually clean but are, at the same time, seeking to do away with the agent of God.
I would suggest these movements tie into yet another level of irony. The word here translated as “realm” is used three times. In other translations that word is sometimes translated as ‘dominion’ and sometimes as ‘kingdom.’ The underlying Greek word is ‘basicillia.’ In Latin it is ‘basilica.’
In the Roman tradition a basilica is the destination of a pilgrimage. But it is also often the seat of a Bishop. Bishops found it convenient to place themselves where pilgrims might arrive, make a contribution to the coffers of a shrine and, hence, to the see of the Bishop, a see being the bishop’s ecclesiastical jurisdiction.
The point is ‘basicillia’ is not real estate, is not a kingdom. A ‘basicillia’ is a jurisdiction. And the real jurisdiction of God is not limited by territory but exists throughout all time and space. And so the proclamation of Jesus we hear is that the jurisdiction of God is not limited by human concepts of territory or human understandings of power. (Slight pause.)
After all, how is it that Jesus speaks so boldly to someone who holds the power of life and death of every last person in that temporal realm. How is it that Jesus addresses the realm of God as if the temporal realm is of little import? (Slight pause.)
John makes it clear throughout this work that in Jesus we find the real presence of God with us. John is, after all, the only Gospel which contains the “I am” statements.
When Jesus says ‘I am the vine’ or ‘the light’ or ‘the truth,’ many take the objects of these statements ‘vine’ or ‘light’ or ‘truth,’ to be central. But the comparison intended by the writer of John is the subject of the sentence— “I am.” The name of God in Hebrew, Yahweh, means ‘I am.’ I am the way. I am the truth. I am the light. (Slight pause.)
This is my take away from all that: the realm of God, here proclaimed by Jesus, is not only unlimited but the realm of God is with us now, is present now, is real now. So Jesus is simply addressing that reality, that truth. (Slight pause.) These thoughts brings me back to Desmond Tutu.
The Archbishop also spoke the truth. Mahatma Gandhi spoke the truth. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke the truth. I think for all these people speaking the truth is about acknowledging the reality of God, the reality that the realm of God is present, is real.
Now, I can’t speak about Gandhi or King. I never met them. I met Desmond. In one session he was asked how he had the where-with-all to even face returning to South Africa where had no rights, where he was less than a second class citizen, where the threat of jail or death was real.
The Archbishop said two things. First, he spent at least two hours a day in prayer unless the demands on his time were extraordinary. Then he spent three hours.
Second, he always held one thing in front of him. No matter who he was addressing, the President of South Africa or of the President United States, primary allegiance was to God. He said by their nature governments produce politics because they try to balance competing needs. So their solutions tended toward the violent act of instilling fear— setting one side against another.
He also said God truly sought freedom, peace, hope, joy and love for all people, not for some. No one was in competition with anyone else for these in the realm of God, where God had jurisdiction. And God has jurisdiction everywhere.
Therefore, he said, if God has jurisdiction everywhere, the realm of God, is here and present... now. And since the realm of God is about freedom, peace, hope, joy and love there was nothing to fear. (Slight pause.)
The realm of God is not a territory. The realm of God has no limits and it is not limited. The realm of God has no limits and is not limited because the realm of God is about exactly what Archbishop said it is about: a jurisdiction that has no room, no room for fear. It is a jurisdiction that has no room, no room for violence.
If you identify fear, if you see violence, whoever is perpetrating that is saying that the realm of God is not a part of their lives. The realm of God only has room for freedom, for peace, for hope, for joy, for love. Amen.
11/22/2015 — Feast of the Reign of Christ
Untied 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 a précis of what was said: “Mahatma Gandhi said this ‘The enemy is fear. We think it is hate. But it is fear.’ I want to suggest fear has no place in the realm of God.”
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.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
SERMON ~11/15/2015 ~ “The Nature of Prophecy”
November 15, 2015 ~ Proper 28 ~ 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost ~ 1 Samuel 1:4-20 ~ 1 Samuel 2:1-10 (In Place of a Psalm); Daniel 12:1-3; Psalm 16; Hebrews 10:11-14, (15-18), 19-25; Mark 13:1-8.
The Nature of Prophecy
“Jesus replied, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; everything will be thrown down.’” — Mark 13:2.
I have a friend who once said to me youngsters should see the Cecil B. DeMille movie The Ten Commandments so they could learn about the Bible. I told him there was only one thing that movie was capable of teaching. The film is, effectively, a post-graduate course on the how star system and the major studios worked in the 1950s, nothing more.
The film got too way much wrong about the Bible to teach us anything about the Bible. Let me give you just one example of its shortcomings.
It’s probable, for instance, many people think the Hebrews, when enslaved in Egypt, helped build the pyramids. That’s a Hollywood myth, a fantasy.
Here’s why. Dating things in the Bible and in ancient times can be tricky but archeologists, historians and Biblical scholars all agree the escape of the Hebrews from Egypt happened in the 13th or 14th Century Before the Common Era.
The last of the Great Pyramids was finished in the 18th Century Before the Common era. In short, building the Great Pyramids and the Exodus are hundreds of years apart. The Hebrews simply were not in Egypt when the Pyramids were being built.
“Oh, Joe!” some might say (especially my friend who thinks The Ten Commandments can teach us about the Bible), “you really know how to ruin a good story.” I say, “I’m ruining nothing. The movie is still a good story and fun to watch.”
But it’s not a story about what happened in Biblical times. So let’s not get a movie— any movie— and Scripture confused with one another. Indeed, we need to make an effort to not let any part of popular culture and Scripture be confused with one another.
This is also to say, “The Ten Commandments may be a good story but I’ve got a better story.” That better story is what’s actually in Scripture. And that better story is called faith and faith should not be overwhelmed or overshadowed by the culture. (Slight pause.)
Please consider this premise: there is a difference between mere religion and faith. In order to illustrate the difference let me redefine those terms for you. My redefinition is borrowed from Biblical Scholar John Dominic Crossan. Crossan relegates religion to something which is simply a cultural practice.
As a cultural practice religion picks up many signals, ideas, signs and social norms from the society in which it exists. Religion reflects the normalcy of civilization. Religion is a part of accepted culture and as such it is static and not at all challenging.
Faith, on the other hand— faith is not a cultural practice. Faith is an exercise and is exercised. Faith is not static. Faith understands God defies the norms of society, the standards of the culture in which we live. Hence and by definition, faith is challenging.
To reiterate: religion is simply a reflection of the culture. Faith is much more challenging. It’s an active and even a personal endeavor.
I need to be clear: the culture is neither inherently bad nor inherently wrong but cannot inform faith. We cannot allow for that. Faith, to be effective, needs to think about the culture without interference from the culture. Now that’s challenging.
Further and unfortunately, we get the culture and faith mixed up and intertwined way, way, way too much. An obvious example of getting the two mixed up? Going to the movies, any movies— and probably you can name every last one of them— going o any movie thinking it will teach us something about Scripture— just not an idea that should be on your radar scope. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Mark. “Jesus replied, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; everything will be thrown down.’” (Slight pause.)
So, are the words of the Thirteenth Chapter of Mark a prediction of how things will be at the apocalypse, at the end of time? Or is that interpretation simply a reading of the culture, a meaning the culture likes to impose on these words? (Slight pause.)
One of the commentaries I read concerning the reading in Mark says this (quote:) “The modern church knows aplenty about voices that talk a good game, use... the right formulas,.... There are those who offer a... Christianity without tears, others who wed Christianity to the nation and demand a patriotic ideology, others who advocate for the utilitarian functions of religion— arguing... [Christianity is] ...an effective means of attaining something— pray for this and it will happen.”
The text is clear. (Quote— quoting that commentary again:) “...instead of becoming frantically alarmist, the church is to take the long view... be patient.... [In addition] the church should not possess a Pollyanna-like denial of reality or pain.... the church is invited to be hopeful despite the wars,... threats of which our community today hears and the community of Mark heard.” [1] (Slight pause.)
For a moment, let me elaborate about wars and threats now and in the time of Mark. I’ll start by noting what happened in France.
I have a Facebook friend, William Field. He teaches Religion and Politics at Rutgers. This was his take.
Yes, acknowledge the attack was awful. But just this last week a similar number of people were killed by terrorist actions in Baghdad, in Beirut and in the Sinai. So it’s not just what happened in France. We need to be aware of all that transpires. (Slight pause.)
And there is a parallel concerning tumultuous times, in Mark. Mark was written no earlier than the year 70 of the Common Era, a claim made by most scholars. In the year 70 Rome destroyed Jerusalem and forced most Jews to flee from the Western Mediterranean.
So there was war— war then and perhaps war now. (Slight pause.) That takes the long view doesn’t it? Well, is the long view 2,000 years? Or is it even longer? And is that long view challenging? Does it challenge the current assumptions of the culture? (Slight pause.)
I am also Facebook friends with sociologist, church historian and author Diana Butler Bass. She asked this question on her Facebook page this week before Friday. (Quote:) “Are we living in a time when people are afraid to wrestle with deep ideas in society, in religion, in politics?” There were a number of responses to that post I found interesting. These are a couple. (Slight pause.)
“Afraid? Or are we ill-equipped to wrestle with deep ideas in our society, in our religion, in our politics?” (Slight pause.)
“It seems there just isn’t anything to gain for deep thinking. Criticism and pushback, sometimes at great expense, creates a culture of superficiality.” (Slight pause.)
“Expressing deep thoughts is considered rude. Well, isn’t that anti-intellectualism?” (Slight pause.)
“Research has shown humans are cognitive misers. Our default solution to problems is to tap the least tiring cognitive process. Psychologists call this ‘type one’ thinking. It was described by Nobel Prize–winning psychologist Daniel Kahneman as automatic, intuitive and not particularly strenuous.” (Slight pause.)
“People don’t wrestle with much of anything anymore. Bumper sticker faith is the result.” [2] (Slight pause.)
I have said this here before. Prophecy in the Bible is not a prediction about the future. Prophecy in the Bible means the Word— and that’s Word with a capital ‘W’— prophecy means the Word of God is being spoken.
And the Word of God when spoken in Scripture is not about prediction. Prediction is a construct of the culture imposed on Scripture. The Word of God in Scripture always has to do with the basic premises of Scripture: loving God and loving neighbor.
So, if it’s true that (quote:) “not one stone will be left here upon another;...” it would seem to me the culture which raised those stones or today’s culture is not a place to look for any ultimate need. That’s because our ultimate need is relationship with God and relationship with one another. (Slight pause.)
That question, “Are we living in a time when people are afraid to wrestle with deep ideas in society, in religion and in politics?” posed by Diana Butler Bass needs to be taken seriously. And yes, I think many people are afraid of deep ideas.
But given the words from the Gospel reading, I think it’s likely the same was true for the community to whom Mark was addressed. I therefore suspect the Word of real prophecy offered in Mark is a Word of solace in the tumultuous world which surrounded that community then... and the tumultuous world which surrounds us today too.
That Word of solace tells us we need to seek to be in relationship with God and one another. And relationship is hard work. Relationship is work which demands we wrestle with deep ideas. Relationship is challenging work.
Why is it challenging? You see, I think relationship work is not a product of the culture. And the culture in Mark’s time and the culture today most often produces only tumult.
The challenging work of relationship, on the other hand, produces all kinds of gifts. The work of relationship produces love. The work of relationship produces respect. The work of relationship produces joy. The work of relationship produces hope. The work of relationship produces peace. The work of relationship produces freedom. Indeed, I think there’s only one thing the work of relationship would fail to produce: violence. Amen
11/15/2015
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 a précis of what was said: “I have two quotes I’d like you to hear this morning. One is from the 20th Century Philosopher and Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. (Quote:) ‘In the shadow of death may we not look back to the past, but seek in utter darkness the dawn of God.’ The other is from St. Bernard of Clairvaux who lived from 1090 to 1153 of the Common Era. (Quote:) ‘There are those who seek knowledge for the sake of knowledge. That is curiosity. There are those who seek knowledge to be known by others. That is vanity. There are those who seek knowledge in order to serve. That is love.’ It seems to me in the world today we are lacking in the knowledge which seeks service and therefore is familiar with love.”
BENEDICTION: Go forth in faith. Go forth trusting that God will provide. 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] The entry for this Sunday in Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV, Vol. 2, Year B - (The CD Version) by Walter Brueggemann (Editor), Charles B Cousar (Editor), Beverly Roberts Gaventa (Editor), James D Newsome (Editor).
[2] Needless to say, to see these entries by Field and by Bass on Facebook you would need to be their friends.
The Nature of Prophecy
“Jesus replied, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; everything will be thrown down.’” — Mark 13:2.
I have a friend who once said to me youngsters should see the Cecil B. DeMille movie The Ten Commandments so they could learn about the Bible. I told him there was only one thing that movie was capable of teaching. The film is, effectively, a post-graduate course on the how star system and the major studios worked in the 1950s, nothing more.
The film got too way much wrong about the Bible to teach us anything about the Bible. Let me give you just one example of its shortcomings.
It’s probable, for instance, many people think the Hebrews, when enslaved in Egypt, helped build the pyramids. That’s a Hollywood myth, a fantasy.
Here’s why. Dating things in the Bible and in ancient times can be tricky but archeologists, historians and Biblical scholars all agree the escape of the Hebrews from Egypt happened in the 13th or 14th Century Before the Common Era.
The last of the Great Pyramids was finished in the 18th Century Before the Common era. In short, building the Great Pyramids and the Exodus are hundreds of years apart. The Hebrews simply were not in Egypt when the Pyramids were being built.
“Oh, Joe!” some might say (especially my friend who thinks The Ten Commandments can teach us about the Bible), “you really know how to ruin a good story.” I say, “I’m ruining nothing. The movie is still a good story and fun to watch.”
But it’s not a story about what happened in Biblical times. So let’s not get a movie— any movie— and Scripture confused with one another. Indeed, we need to make an effort to not let any part of popular culture and Scripture be confused with one another.
This is also to say, “The Ten Commandments may be a good story but I’ve got a better story.” That better story is what’s actually in Scripture. And that better story is called faith and faith should not be overwhelmed or overshadowed by the culture. (Slight pause.)
Please consider this premise: there is a difference between mere religion and faith. In order to illustrate the difference let me redefine those terms for you. My redefinition is borrowed from Biblical Scholar John Dominic Crossan. Crossan relegates religion to something which is simply a cultural practice.
As a cultural practice religion picks up many signals, ideas, signs and social norms from the society in which it exists. Religion reflects the normalcy of civilization. Religion is a part of accepted culture and as such it is static and not at all challenging.
Faith, on the other hand— faith is not a cultural practice. Faith is an exercise and is exercised. Faith is not static. Faith understands God defies the norms of society, the standards of the culture in which we live. Hence and by definition, faith is challenging.
To reiterate: religion is simply a reflection of the culture. Faith is much more challenging. It’s an active and even a personal endeavor.
I need to be clear: the culture is neither inherently bad nor inherently wrong but cannot inform faith. We cannot allow for that. Faith, to be effective, needs to think about the culture without interference from the culture. Now that’s challenging.
Further and unfortunately, we get the culture and faith mixed up and intertwined way, way, way too much. An obvious example of getting the two mixed up? Going to the movies, any movies— and probably you can name every last one of them— going o any movie thinking it will teach us something about Scripture— just not an idea that should be on your radar scope. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Mark. “Jesus replied, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; everything will be thrown down.’” (Slight pause.)
So, are the words of the Thirteenth Chapter of Mark a prediction of how things will be at the apocalypse, at the end of time? Or is that interpretation simply a reading of the culture, a meaning the culture likes to impose on these words? (Slight pause.)
One of the commentaries I read concerning the reading in Mark says this (quote:) “The modern church knows aplenty about voices that talk a good game, use... the right formulas,.... There are those who offer a... Christianity without tears, others who wed Christianity to the nation and demand a patriotic ideology, others who advocate for the utilitarian functions of religion— arguing... [Christianity is] ...an effective means of attaining something— pray for this and it will happen.”
The text is clear. (Quote— quoting that commentary again:) “...instead of becoming frantically alarmist, the church is to take the long view... be patient.... [In addition] the church should not possess a Pollyanna-like denial of reality or pain.... the church is invited to be hopeful despite the wars,... threats of which our community today hears and the community of Mark heard.” [1] (Slight pause.)
For a moment, let me elaborate about wars and threats now and in the time of Mark. I’ll start by noting what happened in France.
I have a Facebook friend, William Field. He teaches Religion and Politics at Rutgers. This was his take.
Yes, acknowledge the attack was awful. But just this last week a similar number of people were killed by terrorist actions in Baghdad, in Beirut and in the Sinai. So it’s not just what happened in France. We need to be aware of all that transpires. (Slight pause.)
And there is a parallel concerning tumultuous times, in Mark. Mark was written no earlier than the year 70 of the Common Era, a claim made by most scholars. In the year 70 Rome destroyed Jerusalem and forced most Jews to flee from the Western Mediterranean.
So there was war— war then and perhaps war now. (Slight pause.) That takes the long view doesn’t it? Well, is the long view 2,000 years? Or is it even longer? And is that long view challenging? Does it challenge the current assumptions of the culture? (Slight pause.)
I am also Facebook friends with sociologist, church historian and author Diana Butler Bass. She asked this question on her Facebook page this week before Friday. (Quote:) “Are we living in a time when people are afraid to wrestle with deep ideas in society, in religion, in politics?” There were a number of responses to that post I found interesting. These are a couple. (Slight pause.)
“Afraid? Or are we ill-equipped to wrestle with deep ideas in our society, in our religion, in our politics?” (Slight pause.)
“It seems there just isn’t anything to gain for deep thinking. Criticism and pushback, sometimes at great expense, creates a culture of superficiality.” (Slight pause.)
“Expressing deep thoughts is considered rude. Well, isn’t that anti-intellectualism?” (Slight pause.)
“Research has shown humans are cognitive misers. Our default solution to problems is to tap the least tiring cognitive process. Psychologists call this ‘type one’ thinking. It was described by Nobel Prize–winning psychologist Daniel Kahneman as automatic, intuitive and not particularly strenuous.” (Slight pause.)
“People don’t wrestle with much of anything anymore. Bumper sticker faith is the result.” [2] (Slight pause.)
I have said this here before. Prophecy in the Bible is not a prediction about the future. Prophecy in the Bible means the Word— and that’s Word with a capital ‘W’— prophecy means the Word of God is being spoken.
And the Word of God when spoken in Scripture is not about prediction. Prediction is a construct of the culture imposed on Scripture. The Word of God in Scripture always has to do with the basic premises of Scripture: loving God and loving neighbor.
So, if it’s true that (quote:) “not one stone will be left here upon another;...” it would seem to me the culture which raised those stones or today’s culture is not a place to look for any ultimate need. That’s because our ultimate need is relationship with God and relationship with one another. (Slight pause.)
That question, “Are we living in a time when people are afraid to wrestle with deep ideas in society, in religion and in politics?” posed by Diana Butler Bass needs to be taken seriously. And yes, I think many people are afraid of deep ideas.
But given the words from the Gospel reading, I think it’s likely the same was true for the community to whom Mark was addressed. I therefore suspect the Word of real prophecy offered in Mark is a Word of solace in the tumultuous world which surrounded that community then... and the tumultuous world which surrounds us today too.
That Word of solace tells us we need to seek to be in relationship with God and one another. And relationship is hard work. Relationship is work which demands we wrestle with deep ideas. Relationship is challenging work.
Why is it challenging? You see, I think relationship work is not a product of the culture. And the culture in Mark’s time and the culture today most often produces only tumult.
The challenging work of relationship, on the other hand, produces all kinds of gifts. The work of relationship produces love. The work of relationship produces respect. The work of relationship produces joy. The work of relationship produces hope. The work of relationship produces peace. The work of relationship produces freedom. Indeed, I think there’s only one thing the work of relationship would fail to produce: violence. Amen
11/15/2015
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 a précis of what was said: “I have two quotes I’d like you to hear this morning. One is from the 20th Century Philosopher and Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. (Quote:) ‘In the shadow of death may we not look back to the past, but seek in utter darkness the dawn of God.’ The other is from St. Bernard of Clairvaux who lived from 1090 to 1153 of the Common Era. (Quote:) ‘There are those who seek knowledge for the sake of knowledge. That is curiosity. There are those who seek knowledge to be known by others. That is vanity. There are those who seek knowledge in order to serve. That is love.’ It seems to me in the world today we are lacking in the knowledge which seeks service and therefore is familiar with love.”
BENEDICTION: Go forth in faith. Go forth trusting that God will provide. 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] The entry for this Sunday in Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV, Vol. 2, Year B - (The CD Version) by Walter Brueggemann (Editor), Charles B Cousar (Editor), Beverly Roberts Gaventa (Editor), James D Newsome (Editor).
[2] Needless to say, to see these entries by Field and by Bass on Facebook you would need to be their friends.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
SERMON ~ 11/08/2015 ~ “God Reigns”
November 8, 2015 ~ Proper 27 ~ 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost ~ 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/Enlistment Sunday.
God Reigns
“Yahweh, God, will reign forever— / your God, O Zion, / will reign for all generations. / Alleluia!” — Psalm 146 v. 10.
Most people know the warm feeling of helping out. And sometimes helping out includes actions like donating clothes to the needy, taking canned goods to the local food pantry.
Further, over and over, researchers have demonstrated doing good feels good. On the other hand, sometimes that heartwarming feeling might be obscuring a troubling fact. What we think of as doing good might not be doing the good we intend. Or so said a recent article in The New York Times.
(Quote:) “Donors can tell they get a warm glow when giving,” says Katherina Rosqueta, of the Center for High Impact Philanthropy at the University of Pennsylvania. “But it’s harder to tell whether they have made a difference. It’s easier to know how you feel than it is to know the effect on the beneficiary.”
Take something as relatively common and seemingly beyond reproach, the article said, such as canned-food drives, something often undertaken by schools to help food pantries— if we take that we see an interesting picture. Why? Food pantries usually buy from nonprofit clearinghouses and can purchase large quantities far more cheaply than its retail cost. [1]
Many of you know I am involved, as are some of our parishioners, with Our Daily Bread Food Pantry, located at Emmanuel Episcopal Church. Because of my association with the pantry, I can confirm we get canned goods at a very low rate.
The orders we place for canned goods with the Central New York Food Bank fall into one of two price categories. The first category: ten cents a pound. That’s right— the price is not by the can but by the pound.
The second category? Free— that’s right: free. The only fly in that arrangement is on occasion the Food Bank does not have in stock what the food pantry need.
Now, I need to be clear: I am not trying to discourage you from donating canned food to food pantries. There is no question about this: it helps the pantries and it may help you. But I am trying to name two greater needs.
First and obviously, pantries need money. They can buy more than any individual with the money people contribute. In fact, if you still want bring food, please do that, since it will probably help you feel good and it does, in fact, help the pantry. But please bring a check also.
The second need is both simple and hard. Pantries need people to be there, on site, to help. And that’s not just people to move boxes and canned food around (although that is a need). People are needed to interact, to console, to connect on a human level with those who have to access the pantries.
All that leads to another issue: when we do give money, how do we know the charity to which we give does a good job using the money? Sad but true, the only way to know a charity is effective is to do research about them. I’ll do the research on Our Daily Bread Food Pantry for you right now: every dollar you donate goes to food, case closed.
Michael Miller, director and producer of the documentary Poverty Inc. says, “People ask, ‘What can I do to help those in poverty?’ That’s the wrong question, he says. The right one is, ‘What do people need to create prosperity in their families and in their community and what can I do to help with that?’” [2] (Slight pause.)
These words are recorded in the 146th Psalm: “Yahweh, God, will reign forever— / your God, O Zion, / will reign for all generations. / Alleluia!” (Slight pause.)
When the Psalm was introduced, you heard it said the Psalms are a collection of hymns, songs. Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann says this about the 146th Psalm. Israel sings and we never know what holy power is unleashed by singing. Israel sings and we never know what human imagination is authorized by singing.
One reason we may not sing is we think just having enough hope to sing is intellectually outrageous. Or we think singing is too subversive. But the Church and Israel do sing! Singing is the vocation of Israel! Singing is the vocation of the church!
Why? By singing we name the fact that this world has been closed off for prisoners, for the blind, for the sojourner, for the widow, for the orphan, for the oppressed.
So the claim being made by the Psalm is that when we sing we help justice prevail because we shine a light on injustice with our songs. Because of our songs, the world is sung open by the light we shed on injustice. [3] These, the thoughts of Walter Bruggemann— and imagine that: singing vanquishes injustice! (Slight pause.)
I think most of you know I am a lyricist with professional credits. I think I know a little about song writing.
There are two things that need to be done simultaneously when writing a song. First, unleash your imagination. Second, that imagination needs to be tempered with the discipline of structure. Unless a song is structured so a listener understands the imagination being displayed, the song will not be understood or even heard.
That brings me back to the question asked earlier: what do we need to do to create prosperity in families and community and what can we do to help? A little like writing a song, I think there are two things that need to be done simultaneously.
First, we need to have imagination. Imaginative innovation can create solutions which vanquish injustice. But second, we need recognize how the real world works. And the real world is often slow, sloppy, cumbersome and conflicted. Therefore, engaging the real world takes not just imagination but discipline. (Slight pause.)
I think we, as a church, as a community of faith, try to do both— imagination and discipline. Indeed, we are coming up on a major hands on project: Turkey Basket day, when we get involved here in distributing over 200 baskets. That takes an enormous amount of both imagination and discipline.
Yes, it takes money. But it takes people, people willing to participate, people helping people, people willing to be present to those in need, to listen, to console, to connect on a human level.
And maybe that is the song people need to hear: connecting on a human level is a song of hope and a song of faith and song of love. Connection is a song filled with imagination and with discipline. (Slight pause.)
Well, today is our so called Enlistment Sunday, when we invite people to make a pledge so the work we do at this church might be empowered to sing in the course of this next year. And that takes imagination and discipline also.
I have said here many times. Every dollar you pledge or put in the plate at this church, goes toward outreach. What does that mean? It means among other things that, as a church, we are lucky to have an abundance with which we can help others.
But it also means historically those who went before us had the imagination and the discipline to invest in their future. And we are their future. Those who went before us had the imagination and the discipline to invest in us. That leaves a question: do we have imagination and the discipline to invest in those around us who are in need and invest in all who will come after us?
I would suggest that when imagination and discipline work together, we— together— can do good in this world. And when we sing with imagination and discipline we can make the claim that we strive to sing songs which vanquish injustice.
And so in a little bit, when you are invited to make a pledge, please consider what we do here. We strive to do the work of justice. And we have been singing amazing songs of justice over the years and we shall continue to sing those songs if we have both imagination and discipline.
Why? How? Our imagination and our discipline should tell us the words of the Psalm ring true: “Yahweh, God, will reign forever— / your God, O Zion, / will reign for all generations. / Alleluia!” Our imagination and our discipline should also tell us we need to continue to sing until injustice is vanquished by our songs. Amen.
11/08/2015 - Enlistment Sunday
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 a précis of what was said: “The thought for meditation today is from Albert Camus (quote:) ‘Too many have dispensed with generosity in order to practice charity.’ One reason the word charity became so prominent in the West is the King James translates the Latin word charitas as charity that way. But that’s a bad translation of charitas. But charitas does not mean charity. It means love of God. So when we do give we need to give not with charity but with charitas, with the love of God.”
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.
[1] http://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/08/giving/when-making-donations-know-an-agencys-needs.html?emc=edit_tnt_20151103&nlid=11820119&tntemail0=y
[2] Ibid.
[3] Walter Brueggemann, “Psalm 146: Psalm for the Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost,” No Other Foundation 8/1 (Summer 1987) 29. Note: these words were edited and paraphrase for this context.
God Reigns
“Yahweh, God, will reign forever— / your God, O Zion, / will reign for all generations. / Alleluia!” — Psalm 146 v. 10.
Most people know the warm feeling of helping out. And sometimes helping out includes actions like donating clothes to the needy, taking canned goods to the local food pantry.
Further, over and over, researchers have demonstrated doing good feels good. On the other hand, sometimes that heartwarming feeling might be obscuring a troubling fact. What we think of as doing good might not be doing the good we intend. Or so said a recent article in The New York Times.
(Quote:) “Donors can tell they get a warm glow when giving,” says Katherina Rosqueta, of the Center for High Impact Philanthropy at the University of Pennsylvania. “But it’s harder to tell whether they have made a difference. It’s easier to know how you feel than it is to know the effect on the beneficiary.”
Take something as relatively common and seemingly beyond reproach, the article said, such as canned-food drives, something often undertaken by schools to help food pantries— if we take that we see an interesting picture. Why? Food pantries usually buy from nonprofit clearinghouses and can purchase large quantities far more cheaply than its retail cost. [1]
Many of you know I am involved, as are some of our parishioners, with Our Daily Bread Food Pantry, located at Emmanuel Episcopal Church. Because of my association with the pantry, I can confirm we get canned goods at a very low rate.
The orders we place for canned goods with the Central New York Food Bank fall into one of two price categories. The first category: ten cents a pound. That’s right— the price is not by the can but by the pound.
The second category? Free— that’s right: free. The only fly in that arrangement is on occasion the Food Bank does not have in stock what the food pantry need.
Now, I need to be clear: I am not trying to discourage you from donating canned food to food pantries. There is no question about this: it helps the pantries and it may help you. But I am trying to name two greater needs.
First and obviously, pantries need money. They can buy more than any individual with the money people contribute. In fact, if you still want bring food, please do that, since it will probably help you feel good and it does, in fact, help the pantry. But please bring a check also.
The second need is both simple and hard. Pantries need people to be there, on site, to help. And that’s not just people to move boxes and canned food around (although that is a need). People are needed to interact, to console, to connect on a human level with those who have to access the pantries.
All that leads to another issue: when we do give money, how do we know the charity to which we give does a good job using the money? Sad but true, the only way to know a charity is effective is to do research about them. I’ll do the research on Our Daily Bread Food Pantry for you right now: every dollar you donate goes to food, case closed.
Michael Miller, director and producer of the documentary Poverty Inc. says, “People ask, ‘What can I do to help those in poverty?’ That’s the wrong question, he says. The right one is, ‘What do people need to create prosperity in their families and in their community and what can I do to help with that?’” [2] (Slight pause.)
These words are recorded in the 146th Psalm: “Yahweh, God, will reign forever— / your God, O Zion, / will reign for all generations. / Alleluia!” (Slight pause.)
When the Psalm was introduced, you heard it said the Psalms are a collection of hymns, songs. Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann says this about the 146th Psalm. Israel sings and we never know what holy power is unleashed by singing. Israel sings and we never know what human imagination is authorized by singing.
One reason we may not sing is we think just having enough hope to sing is intellectually outrageous. Or we think singing is too subversive. But the Church and Israel do sing! Singing is the vocation of Israel! Singing is the vocation of the church!
Why? By singing we name the fact that this world has been closed off for prisoners, for the blind, for the sojourner, for the widow, for the orphan, for the oppressed.
So the claim being made by the Psalm is that when we sing we help justice prevail because we shine a light on injustice with our songs. Because of our songs, the world is sung open by the light we shed on injustice. [3] These, the thoughts of Walter Bruggemann— and imagine that: singing vanquishes injustice! (Slight pause.)
I think most of you know I am a lyricist with professional credits. I think I know a little about song writing.
There are two things that need to be done simultaneously when writing a song. First, unleash your imagination. Second, that imagination needs to be tempered with the discipline of structure. Unless a song is structured so a listener understands the imagination being displayed, the song will not be understood or even heard.
That brings me back to the question asked earlier: what do we need to do to create prosperity in families and community and what can we do to help? A little like writing a song, I think there are two things that need to be done simultaneously.
First, we need to have imagination. Imaginative innovation can create solutions which vanquish injustice. But second, we need recognize how the real world works. And the real world is often slow, sloppy, cumbersome and conflicted. Therefore, engaging the real world takes not just imagination but discipline. (Slight pause.)
I think we, as a church, as a community of faith, try to do both— imagination and discipline. Indeed, we are coming up on a major hands on project: Turkey Basket day, when we get involved here in distributing over 200 baskets. That takes an enormous amount of both imagination and discipline.
Yes, it takes money. But it takes people, people willing to participate, people helping people, people willing to be present to those in need, to listen, to console, to connect on a human level.
And maybe that is the song people need to hear: connecting on a human level is a song of hope and a song of faith and song of love. Connection is a song filled with imagination and with discipline. (Slight pause.)
Well, today is our so called Enlistment Sunday, when we invite people to make a pledge so the work we do at this church might be empowered to sing in the course of this next year. And that takes imagination and discipline also.
I have said here many times. Every dollar you pledge or put in the plate at this church, goes toward outreach. What does that mean? It means among other things that, as a church, we are lucky to have an abundance with which we can help others.
But it also means historically those who went before us had the imagination and the discipline to invest in their future. And we are their future. Those who went before us had the imagination and the discipline to invest in us. That leaves a question: do we have imagination and the discipline to invest in those around us who are in need and invest in all who will come after us?
I would suggest that when imagination and discipline work together, we— together— can do good in this world. And when we sing with imagination and discipline we can make the claim that we strive to sing songs which vanquish injustice.
And so in a little bit, when you are invited to make a pledge, please consider what we do here. We strive to do the work of justice. And we have been singing amazing songs of justice over the years and we shall continue to sing those songs if we have both imagination and discipline.
Why? How? Our imagination and our discipline should tell us the words of the Psalm ring true: “Yahweh, God, will reign forever— / your God, O Zion, / will reign for all generations. / Alleluia!” Our imagination and our discipline should also tell us we need to continue to sing until injustice is vanquished by our songs. Amen.
11/08/2015 - Enlistment Sunday
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 a précis of what was said: “The thought for meditation today is from Albert Camus (quote:) ‘Too many have dispensed with generosity in order to practice charity.’ One reason the word charity became so prominent in the West is the King James translates the Latin word charitas as charity that way. But that’s a bad translation of charitas. But charitas does not mean charity. It means love of God. So when we do give we need to give not with charity but with charitas, with the love of God.”
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.
[1] http://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/08/giving/when-making-donations-know-an-agencys-needs.html?emc=edit_tnt_20151103&nlid=11820119&tntemail0=y
[2] Ibid.
[3] Walter Brueggemann, “Psalm 146: Psalm for the Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost,” No Other Foundation 8/1 (Summer 1987) 29. Note: these words were edited and paraphrase for this context.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
SERMON ~ 11/01/2015 ~ “The First Commandment”
READINGS: November 1, 2015 ~ Proper 26 ~ 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost ~ If All Saints not observed on this day ~ Ruth 1:1-18; Psalm 146; Deuteronomy 6:1-9; Psalm 119:1-8; Hebrews 9:11-14; Mark 12:28-34 ~ Communion Sunday; New Members Received.
November 1, 2015 ~ All Saints Day ~ Sometimes Observed on First Sunday in November, these are the readings ~ Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9 or Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 24; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44 ~ Communion Sunday; New Members Received.
The First Commandment
“Hear, O Israel: Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. You are to love Yahweh, our God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.” — Deuteronomy 6:4-5.
In a recent writing Baptist Pastor Allyson Dylan Robinson suggests we, as a society, are addicted to certainty. Certainty is like a drug, she says. It can comfort us and buoy our spirits as it blocks out questions, doubt. But it can only block out questions for a time.
The mellow high of certainty will wear off and questions will reassert themselves, eventually. And when questions reappear is exactly when we start searching for a new fix. So, like any addiction, certainty dehumanizes us as we become driven for that fix.
Now, questions arise naturally in the human mind. This is a function of the God given gift of reason. So, in order to grab for the certainty to which we are addicted we must renounce the gift of God. When renounce the gift of reason, certainty helps us to a place called ‘willful ignorance.’
Certainty, this willful ignorance, presents us with a theological problem. By definition God can never be fully known. Certainty is, hence, the ultimate heresy since it presumes the revelation God has given to us is exactly identical with a whole knowledge God. [1] — these the words of Allyson Dylan Robinson. (Slight pause.)
It seems to me our society is not just riddled with and addicted to certainty. It is downright crippled, immobilized by certainty. And you can see certainty in our politics, in our sports, in our religion.
Why does certainty cripple, immobilized society? Addiction to certainty insists only side can be right, there is only one belief in play, only one side has valid answers. And since, as I said, certainty is the ultimate heresy, you need to wonder if we even know it’s a heresy, if we know certainty misrepresents and misrepresents especially God. (Slight pause.)
Perhaps there is one thing which leads us toward an insistence on certainty, this willful ignorance. And that one thing is a very human attribute.
I think we humans have more than a slight tendency toward egocentricity. Each of us— to be clear myself included— each of us likes to think we are at the center of the world. And if we are at the center of the world, needless to say, we are right. And we are certain of that.
It is, of course, one thing when an individual displays egocentricity. Egocentricity on the part of an individual can be overcome since that person can be placated or simply ignored. But it’s quite another thing when a social group, a society, a collective, displays egocentricity.
Egocentricity on the part of a group is not just hard to ignore. Egocentricity on the part of a group presents problems and dangers and challenges.
Certainty on a group level gives voice and gives action to a myriad of social ills from racism to sexism to classism to imperialism to fantasies that the apocalyptic age is upon us. I want to unpack that just a little. Racism makes the sometimes tacit but clearly egocentric, ethnocentric claim that one race is superior.
Sexism says one gender is superior. Classism and imperialism make similar claims: one sub-group, nationality or country is superior.
As to the egocentric fantasy that the apocalyptic age is upon us, that might be the most self-centered claim of all. Why?
The real claim being made is this time in which we now live and the people of this time are so special that God will see fit to end the world now— right now. And thereby these special people might actually be witnesses to the apocalypse, now. This claim is the height of egocentricity, to say nothing of certainty.
All that brings me back to these words from Deuteronomy: “Hear, O Israel: Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. You are to love Yahweh, our God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.”
In Hebrew those words are identified as the Shema, Shema being the word which means to hear. And in the Gospel reading Jesus is asked to name the greatest commandment and repeats the Shema. If that’s the text Jesus chooses, there should no question about this: the Shema, this text and no other, is central to all Scripture.
Now, when the reading from Deuteronomy was introduced, you heard about 613 commandments in the Hebrew Scriptures, the culturally popular if mislabeled 10 commandments and the two commandments cited by Jesus. Let me be clear about this, perhaps as an aside: anyone— anyone— who is says they are certain the 10 commandments are central in Scripture is Biblically illiterate. Biblically literate people understand the Shema is central in Scripture.
Well, back to the Shema: I need you to note there are three components to the Shema, this first commandment. Let’s take a look at them in reverse order. The last component is love God. Theologically, love cannot be real without God. God is the source of all love. And that love is a result of the two previous statements of the Shema.
What are they? The middle component says God is one. In ancient times many people believed there were multiple gods, each with their own duties and Hebrew theology counters that idea. God is one— a God of all things, a God of the universe.
Which bring us to the first component. This first section offers instruction on how one is empowered to love God— how one is empowered to love God. And what’s the first message in these words? Hear. And what’s the name of these words in Hebrew? Shema: hear.
You see, in order to truly be in love with anyone you need to listen to them. In order to be truly in love with God you need to listen to God, you need to hear God. In short, it could be said the first part of the first commandment tells us we need to listen to God before we can love God. It tells us how we can be empowered to love God. (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest that listening to God is the hardest part of the Shema to follow, the hardest thing we will ever do. Why?
Listening demands humility. Humility understands that relationship, that love, depends on hearing a voice other than our own.
Listening to God requires we employ the discipline of self-surrender, requires us to renounce certainty, abandon egocentricity. Listening requires... modesty.
Last and to be clear, the prime issue being addressed by this the first commandment is not the listening to God done by each individual. The first commandment is not addressed to an individual. Nowhere does the first commandment say, “Hey Joe! You and only you need to listen.”
The first commandment is addressed to the community. (Quote:) “Hear, O Israel.” So, it is, first and foremost, not specific individuals but the whole community who need to listen. We all need to listen together. We are all in this together.
Hence, it is fitting that we did two important things as a community today. We celebrated the Sacrament of Communion, an action of community and in community, and we accepted new members into the community.
And it is we, the community, not just individuals, who need to listen to God and listen for God to speak in our lives. You see, when we listen to God as a community, I think we have an opportunity to banish certainty, certainty that seems to be addicting our community. And once certainty is banished it follows we will banish its cousins: racism, sexism, classism, imperialism and any fantasy which says the apocalyptic age is around the corner. (Slight pause.)
Jesus clearly tells us to love God and love neighbor. My guess is the path to loving God and neighbor starts with being humble enough to listen to God. Amen.
11/01/2015
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: “Earlier I said the whole community, the collective, but therefore each of us needs to listen to God. You might say, ‘Fine, but suppose we all hear different things?’ I would say, ‘You don’t understand. That’s the way it supposed to be. And then we need to listen to one another.’ You see, the two commandments together are love God and love neighbor.”
BENEDICTION: 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] These words are edited and paraphrased.
http://www.thebtscenter.org/certainty/
November 1, 2015 ~ All Saints Day ~ Sometimes Observed on First Sunday in November, these are the readings ~ Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9 or Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 24; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44 ~ Communion Sunday; New Members Received.
The First Commandment
“Hear, O Israel: Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. You are to love Yahweh, our God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.” — Deuteronomy 6:4-5.
In a recent writing Baptist Pastor Allyson Dylan Robinson suggests we, as a society, are addicted to certainty. Certainty is like a drug, she says. It can comfort us and buoy our spirits as it blocks out questions, doubt. But it can only block out questions for a time.
The mellow high of certainty will wear off and questions will reassert themselves, eventually. And when questions reappear is exactly when we start searching for a new fix. So, like any addiction, certainty dehumanizes us as we become driven for that fix.
Now, questions arise naturally in the human mind. This is a function of the God given gift of reason. So, in order to grab for the certainty to which we are addicted we must renounce the gift of God. When renounce the gift of reason, certainty helps us to a place called ‘willful ignorance.’
Certainty, this willful ignorance, presents us with a theological problem. By definition God can never be fully known. Certainty is, hence, the ultimate heresy since it presumes the revelation God has given to us is exactly identical with a whole knowledge God. [1] — these the words of Allyson Dylan Robinson. (Slight pause.)
It seems to me our society is not just riddled with and addicted to certainty. It is downright crippled, immobilized by certainty. And you can see certainty in our politics, in our sports, in our religion.
Why does certainty cripple, immobilized society? Addiction to certainty insists only side can be right, there is only one belief in play, only one side has valid answers. And since, as I said, certainty is the ultimate heresy, you need to wonder if we even know it’s a heresy, if we know certainty misrepresents and misrepresents especially God. (Slight pause.)
Perhaps there is one thing which leads us toward an insistence on certainty, this willful ignorance. And that one thing is a very human attribute.
I think we humans have more than a slight tendency toward egocentricity. Each of us— to be clear myself included— each of us likes to think we are at the center of the world. And if we are at the center of the world, needless to say, we are right. And we are certain of that.
It is, of course, one thing when an individual displays egocentricity. Egocentricity on the part of an individual can be overcome since that person can be placated or simply ignored. But it’s quite another thing when a social group, a society, a collective, displays egocentricity.
Egocentricity on the part of a group is not just hard to ignore. Egocentricity on the part of a group presents problems and dangers and challenges.
Certainty on a group level gives voice and gives action to a myriad of social ills from racism to sexism to classism to imperialism to fantasies that the apocalyptic age is upon us. I want to unpack that just a little. Racism makes the sometimes tacit but clearly egocentric, ethnocentric claim that one race is superior.
Sexism says one gender is superior. Classism and imperialism make similar claims: one sub-group, nationality or country is superior.
As to the egocentric fantasy that the apocalyptic age is upon us, that might be the most self-centered claim of all. Why?
The real claim being made is this time in which we now live and the people of this time are so special that God will see fit to end the world now— right now. And thereby these special people might actually be witnesses to the apocalypse, now. This claim is the height of egocentricity, to say nothing of certainty.
All that brings me back to these words from Deuteronomy: “Hear, O Israel: Yahweh, our God, Yahweh alone, is one. You are to love Yahweh, our God / with all your heart, / and with all your soul, / and with all your strength.”
In Hebrew those words are identified as the Shema, Shema being the word which means to hear. And in the Gospel reading Jesus is asked to name the greatest commandment and repeats the Shema. If that’s the text Jesus chooses, there should no question about this: the Shema, this text and no other, is central to all Scripture.
Now, when the reading from Deuteronomy was introduced, you heard about 613 commandments in the Hebrew Scriptures, the culturally popular if mislabeled 10 commandments and the two commandments cited by Jesus. Let me be clear about this, perhaps as an aside: anyone— anyone— who is says they are certain the 10 commandments are central in Scripture is Biblically illiterate. Biblically literate people understand the Shema is central in Scripture.
Well, back to the Shema: I need you to note there are three components to the Shema, this first commandment. Let’s take a look at them in reverse order. The last component is love God. Theologically, love cannot be real without God. God is the source of all love. And that love is a result of the two previous statements of the Shema.
What are they? The middle component says God is one. In ancient times many people believed there were multiple gods, each with their own duties and Hebrew theology counters that idea. God is one— a God of all things, a God of the universe.
Which bring us to the first component. This first section offers instruction on how one is empowered to love God— how one is empowered to love God. And what’s the first message in these words? Hear. And what’s the name of these words in Hebrew? Shema: hear.
You see, in order to truly be in love with anyone you need to listen to them. In order to be truly in love with God you need to listen to God, you need to hear God. In short, it could be said the first part of the first commandment tells us we need to listen to God before we can love God. It tells us how we can be empowered to love God. (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest that listening to God is the hardest part of the Shema to follow, the hardest thing we will ever do. Why?
Listening demands humility. Humility understands that relationship, that love, depends on hearing a voice other than our own.
Listening to God requires we employ the discipline of self-surrender, requires us to renounce certainty, abandon egocentricity. Listening requires... modesty.
Last and to be clear, the prime issue being addressed by this the first commandment is not the listening to God done by each individual. The first commandment is not addressed to an individual. Nowhere does the first commandment say, “Hey Joe! You and only you need to listen.”
The first commandment is addressed to the community. (Quote:) “Hear, O Israel.” So, it is, first and foremost, not specific individuals but the whole community who need to listen. We all need to listen together. We are all in this together.
Hence, it is fitting that we did two important things as a community today. We celebrated the Sacrament of Communion, an action of community and in community, and we accepted new members into the community.
And it is we, the community, not just individuals, who need to listen to God and listen for God to speak in our lives. You see, when we listen to God as a community, I think we have an opportunity to banish certainty, certainty that seems to be addicting our community. And once certainty is banished it follows we will banish its cousins: racism, sexism, classism, imperialism and any fantasy which says the apocalyptic age is around the corner. (Slight pause.)
Jesus clearly tells us to love God and love neighbor. My guess is the path to loving God and neighbor starts with being humble enough to listen to God. Amen.
11/01/2015
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: “Earlier I said the whole community, the collective, but therefore each of us needs to listen to God. You might say, ‘Fine, but suppose we all hear different things?’ I would say, ‘You don’t understand. That’s the way it supposed to be. And then we need to listen to one another.’ You see, the two commandments together are love God and love neighbor.”
BENEDICTION: 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] These words are edited and paraphrased.
http://www.thebtscenter.org/certainty/
Sunday, October 25, 2015
SERMON ~ October 25, 2015 ~ “Faith and Belief”
READINGS: October 25, 2015 ~ Proper 25 ~ Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost ~ 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.
Faith and Belief
“Jesus replied, ‘Go. Your faith has saved you.’ And immediately Bartimaeus received the gift of sight and began to follow Jesus along the road.” — Mark 10:52.
I think many of you are aware I grew up in the Roman Catholic tradition. As I have said here a number of times, my late father spent his entire working career teaching at a Jesuit High School. Therefore and as I have also said, when I was growing up— my late teens, early twenties, very formative years— Jesuits— those radicals— were my friends.
Here’s an example of my friendships with Jesuits. It happened when I was twenty-one. I had just returned from 14 months in Vietnam. A Jesuit friend invited me to dinner at his rectory to meet someone who was staying there for a couple days.
Now, it’s probable many of you have heard of the two peace activist Jesuits who also happen to be brothers, Daniel and Philip Berrigan. If you have not heard of them you can use “Google” to find out a little more about them.
My friend had gathered about 10 young men to be at the rectory ONE night and the special guest at this dinner was Philip Berrigan. Dan was not there. For all I know, given that era, Dan may have been in the hoosegow for protesting something.
I’m going to presume something about that dinner invitation. My presumption is, since I had just returned from Vietnam, I was invited by my Jesuit friend so I could meet Berrigan. Perhaps my friend thought I needed to be exposed to a peace activist.
There are two things to be said about my situation then. First, both before and after my time in Vietnam, I realized the foolishness of the leadership which put us in that mess. Therefore and paradoxically, I had made the decision that I would willingly enter the Army if I was drafted because that was my duty as a citizen.
On the other hand, I was fully on board with the peace movement. As I said, I realized the foolishness which placed us there. And maybe my Jesuit friend did not realize that about me, hence the invitation.
Second, despite being fully on board with the sentiments expressed by the peace movement, I was very young. At that point in my life I was much more interested in following the Mets, the Jets, the Yankees, the Giants, the Knicks, the Rangers and going out with friends to a local tavern. I am sure these were more important to me than joining peace demonstrations.
Now that I am a little older, I understand peace is a goal of the Dominion of God. And clearly we, as a society, consider people in the peace movement then and sometimes now— so-called peace-nicks— not particularly worthy of respect. They are often thought of as outcasts. Certainly the Berrigans were thought of as outcasts. (Slight pause.)
Another Jesuit friend was Vincent J. O’Keefe. Vinny— or Uncle Vinny, as members of my family called him— Vinny taught with my father in the same school. Later Vinny was the President of Fordham who guided the University through the process when women first became students at what had been an all male institution.
And yes, that transition to co-education at Fordham happened only in the early 1960s. We need to remember today is still less than 100 years since women gained the right to vote. Before then women were considered at best second class citizens, essentially outcasts in their own nation. (Slight pause.)
I want to share just one more story about Vinny. He was also, at one point, stationed in Rome, second in command of the Jesuit order. He was and is the only American to have ever held that post.
Now, when one gets appointed to be the Superior General of the Society of Jesus, the chief big-wig, that’s a lifetime appointment. Like the Pope, it’s a lifetime appointment. When Vinny’s boss, Superior General Pedro Arrupe, a Spanish Jesuit, was disabled by a stroke Vinny ran the order and did so for quite some time. But Arrupe did not die quickly.
Eventually Pope John Paul II stepped in because the Pontiff did not feel comfortable with an American in that position. Indeed, the Pope made an unprecedented move and appointed a caretaker of the Jesuits who ran the order until Arrupe died. Vinny was sent back to America.
And yes, we were that close to having an American run the Jesuits. Perhaps the Pope considered we Americans as outcast. It is fairly well known John Paul II had issues with Americans.
Interestingly, at the time this happened even though my contact was sporadic at best, I was still heard from Vinny. So, I guess you could say I had one degree of separation from the Pontiff. (If I was telling this story on Facebook, this would be the point at which I’d type in a little smiley face, right!) [Slight pause.]
As you all know, my life is very different today. I, in fact, have no face to face contacts with any Jesuits. But I still read Jesuit authors. And I am the Facebook friend with one Jesuit, James Martin, S.J., even though I have never met him in person. I very much appreciate the writings of Martin, an editor at large for America, a Jesuit magazine.
Why do I like Martin’s writings? Here’s one connection for you: we, in the United Church of Christ, are quite fond of saying, “Wherever you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here!” In a recent article Martin reported this is what Jesuits say: “God meets you where you are.”
In this article Martin wrote (quote): “...God doesn’t expect us to be perfect before we can approach God or before God approaches us. Your spiritual house doesn’t have to be perfectly in order for God to enter.”
“...God meets you in ways... you can understand and appreciate. If you are scholarly or more introverted... you may meet God by being inspired through reading a book. If you’re a more social person, you may meet God in a group setting. If you’re someone who loves nature, you may meet God by the seashore. God meets you as you are, where you are, and in ways you can understand.”
“This may sound obvious but that can also be threatening because, for some people, this implies a dangerous laxity. If God meets us where we are, is there any need for change? If there is no need for us to change in any way, does that mean anything goes?” — the thoughts of James Martin, S.J. [1] (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Mark: “Jesus replied, ‘Go. Your faith has saved you.’ And immediately Bartimaeus received the gift of sight and began to follow Jesus along the road.” (Slight pause.)
I need to remind you that Mark is the earliest Gospel recorded. And it is clear throughout all the Gospels, but I would suggest it’s especially clear in Mark, that Jesus is sent to and has a ministry with the outcast.
Bartimaeus is outcast. If someone was blind in this era, being an outcast was a given. If someone needed to beg to be sustained, being an outcast was a given.
In fact, Bartimaeus is only one of many outcast recorded by Mark. The narrative we hear from Mark is riddled with the outcast, all of whom are received by or empowered by Jesus.
These include the possessed Gerasene, the Syrophoenician woman, the blind person at Bethsaida, the alien exorcist, even the little children— who, to be clear, would have been considered outcast in this era— and finally Bartimaeus. All this is to say those who are perceived by society as powerless, outcast, take a prominent place in the economy of God’s new order. (Slight pause.)
Over time you may have noticed that all my sermons have titles. But, in the course of my weekly comments, I don’t often mention those titles. I’ll mention the title today: Faith and Belief.
What’s the difference between faith and belief? I think belief implies a list, a set of premises to which one ascribes, as in asking the question ‘what do you believe?
Faith, on the other hand, does not ask for a list. Faith implies a relationship. In that faith implies relationship, faith also does not just imply trust. Faith insists on trust.
Having faith means trusting someone. Indeed, when it comes to faith, there is a name we give that someone: God.
Having faith means trusting God. Having faith means trusting God is real. Having faith means we trust God is present to us. Having faith means we trust God is there for us.
When Jesus tells Bartimaeus, “Go. Your faith has saved you” what is really being said is Bartimaeus, this outcast, has exhibited trust. And, as an outcast, Bartimaeus is not an acceptable member of society. Yes still, Bartimaeus, the outcast, trusts God.
I think Bartimaeus knows trust is about relationship. It’s not about a list of premises, rules. It’s not about what you have. It’s not about trusting what you have. Bartimaeus, the outcast, knows when one trusts God, one is in relationship with God.
Well, the next time someone asks what you believe, the next time someone asks what you believe as a Christian— and that is a question which does get asked— you may have noticed it often has been often asked at Presidential debates— the next time someone asks what you believe, go ahead— confuse them with your answer. Tell them you trust God, that’s what you believe, because that’s certainly not a list.
Of course, you should probably be careful if you offer that answer. After all, belief in God, trusting God, that’s the answer that outcasts often give. Amen.
10/25/2015
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: “We sometimes use an Affirmation of Faith here. The classic one is The Nicene Creed. It sounds like a list of beliefs. It is not. In the original language used in that Creed, Latin, the word we translate as ‘I believe’ is Credo. An accurate translation of the word Credo is not ‘I believe.’ An accurate translation is ‘I give my heart to...’ Christian belief is about the heart, not about a list of doctrine or dogma.”
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.
[1] These words are slightly edited.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2015/10/21/god-meets-you-where-you-are-and-why-that-can-sound-threatening/
Faith and Belief
“Jesus replied, ‘Go. Your faith has saved you.’ And immediately Bartimaeus received the gift of sight and began to follow Jesus along the road.” — Mark 10:52.
I think many of you are aware I grew up in the Roman Catholic tradition. As I have said here a number of times, my late father spent his entire working career teaching at a Jesuit High School. Therefore and as I have also said, when I was growing up— my late teens, early twenties, very formative years— Jesuits— those radicals— were my friends.
Here’s an example of my friendships with Jesuits. It happened when I was twenty-one. I had just returned from 14 months in Vietnam. A Jesuit friend invited me to dinner at his rectory to meet someone who was staying there for a couple days.
Now, it’s probable many of you have heard of the two peace activist Jesuits who also happen to be brothers, Daniel and Philip Berrigan. If you have not heard of them you can use “Google” to find out a little more about them.
My friend had gathered about 10 young men to be at the rectory ONE night and the special guest at this dinner was Philip Berrigan. Dan was not there. For all I know, given that era, Dan may have been in the hoosegow for protesting something.
I’m going to presume something about that dinner invitation. My presumption is, since I had just returned from Vietnam, I was invited by my Jesuit friend so I could meet Berrigan. Perhaps my friend thought I needed to be exposed to a peace activist.
There are two things to be said about my situation then. First, both before and after my time in Vietnam, I realized the foolishness of the leadership which put us in that mess. Therefore and paradoxically, I had made the decision that I would willingly enter the Army if I was drafted because that was my duty as a citizen.
On the other hand, I was fully on board with the peace movement. As I said, I realized the foolishness which placed us there. And maybe my Jesuit friend did not realize that about me, hence the invitation.
Second, despite being fully on board with the sentiments expressed by the peace movement, I was very young. At that point in my life I was much more interested in following the Mets, the Jets, the Yankees, the Giants, the Knicks, the Rangers and going out with friends to a local tavern. I am sure these were more important to me than joining peace demonstrations.
Now that I am a little older, I understand peace is a goal of the Dominion of God. And clearly we, as a society, consider people in the peace movement then and sometimes now— so-called peace-nicks— not particularly worthy of respect. They are often thought of as outcasts. Certainly the Berrigans were thought of as outcasts. (Slight pause.)
Another Jesuit friend was Vincent J. O’Keefe. Vinny— or Uncle Vinny, as members of my family called him— Vinny taught with my father in the same school. Later Vinny was the President of Fordham who guided the University through the process when women first became students at what had been an all male institution.
And yes, that transition to co-education at Fordham happened only in the early 1960s. We need to remember today is still less than 100 years since women gained the right to vote. Before then women were considered at best second class citizens, essentially outcasts in their own nation. (Slight pause.)
I want to share just one more story about Vinny. He was also, at one point, stationed in Rome, second in command of the Jesuit order. He was and is the only American to have ever held that post.
Now, when one gets appointed to be the Superior General of the Society of Jesus, the chief big-wig, that’s a lifetime appointment. Like the Pope, it’s a lifetime appointment. When Vinny’s boss, Superior General Pedro Arrupe, a Spanish Jesuit, was disabled by a stroke Vinny ran the order and did so for quite some time. But Arrupe did not die quickly.
Eventually Pope John Paul II stepped in because the Pontiff did not feel comfortable with an American in that position. Indeed, the Pope made an unprecedented move and appointed a caretaker of the Jesuits who ran the order until Arrupe died. Vinny was sent back to America.
And yes, we were that close to having an American run the Jesuits. Perhaps the Pope considered we Americans as outcast. It is fairly well known John Paul II had issues with Americans.
Interestingly, at the time this happened even though my contact was sporadic at best, I was still heard from Vinny. So, I guess you could say I had one degree of separation from the Pontiff. (If I was telling this story on Facebook, this would be the point at which I’d type in a little smiley face, right!) [Slight pause.]
As you all know, my life is very different today. I, in fact, have no face to face contacts with any Jesuits. But I still read Jesuit authors. And I am the Facebook friend with one Jesuit, James Martin, S.J., even though I have never met him in person. I very much appreciate the writings of Martin, an editor at large for America, a Jesuit magazine.
Why do I like Martin’s writings? Here’s one connection for you: we, in the United Church of Christ, are quite fond of saying, “Wherever you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here!” In a recent article Martin reported this is what Jesuits say: “God meets you where you are.”
In this article Martin wrote (quote): “...God doesn’t expect us to be perfect before we can approach God or before God approaches us. Your spiritual house doesn’t have to be perfectly in order for God to enter.”
“...God meets you in ways... you can understand and appreciate. If you are scholarly or more introverted... you may meet God by being inspired through reading a book. If you’re a more social person, you may meet God in a group setting. If you’re someone who loves nature, you may meet God by the seashore. God meets you as you are, where you are, and in ways you can understand.”
“This may sound obvious but that can also be threatening because, for some people, this implies a dangerous laxity. If God meets us where we are, is there any need for change? If there is no need for us to change in any way, does that mean anything goes?” — the thoughts of James Martin, S.J. [1] (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Mark: “Jesus replied, ‘Go. Your faith has saved you.’ And immediately Bartimaeus received the gift of sight and began to follow Jesus along the road.” (Slight pause.)
I need to remind you that Mark is the earliest Gospel recorded. And it is clear throughout all the Gospels, but I would suggest it’s especially clear in Mark, that Jesus is sent to and has a ministry with the outcast.
Bartimaeus is outcast. If someone was blind in this era, being an outcast was a given. If someone needed to beg to be sustained, being an outcast was a given.
In fact, Bartimaeus is only one of many outcast recorded by Mark. The narrative we hear from Mark is riddled with the outcast, all of whom are received by or empowered by Jesus.
These include the possessed Gerasene, the Syrophoenician woman, the blind person at Bethsaida, the alien exorcist, even the little children— who, to be clear, would have been considered outcast in this era— and finally Bartimaeus. All this is to say those who are perceived by society as powerless, outcast, take a prominent place in the economy of God’s new order. (Slight pause.)
Over time you may have noticed that all my sermons have titles. But, in the course of my weekly comments, I don’t often mention those titles. I’ll mention the title today: Faith and Belief.
What’s the difference between faith and belief? I think belief implies a list, a set of premises to which one ascribes, as in asking the question ‘what do you believe?
Faith, on the other hand, does not ask for a list. Faith implies a relationship. In that faith implies relationship, faith also does not just imply trust. Faith insists on trust.
Having faith means trusting someone. Indeed, when it comes to faith, there is a name we give that someone: God.
Having faith means trusting God. Having faith means trusting God is real. Having faith means we trust God is present to us. Having faith means we trust God is there for us.
When Jesus tells Bartimaeus, “Go. Your faith has saved you” what is really being said is Bartimaeus, this outcast, has exhibited trust. And, as an outcast, Bartimaeus is not an acceptable member of society. Yes still, Bartimaeus, the outcast, trusts God.
I think Bartimaeus knows trust is about relationship. It’s not about a list of premises, rules. It’s not about what you have. It’s not about trusting what you have. Bartimaeus, the outcast, knows when one trusts God, one is in relationship with God.
Well, the next time someone asks what you believe, the next time someone asks what you believe as a Christian— and that is a question which does get asked— you may have noticed it often has been often asked at Presidential debates— the next time someone asks what you believe, go ahead— confuse them with your answer. Tell them you trust God, that’s what you believe, because that’s certainly not a list.
Of course, you should probably be careful if you offer that answer. After all, belief in God, trusting God, that’s the answer that outcasts often give. Amen.
10/25/2015
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: “We sometimes use an Affirmation of Faith here. The classic one is The Nicene Creed. It sounds like a list of beliefs. It is not. In the original language used in that Creed, Latin, the word we translate as ‘I believe’ is Credo. An accurate translation of the word Credo is not ‘I believe.’ An accurate translation is ‘I give my heart to...’ Christian belief is about the heart, not about a list of doctrine or dogma.”
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.
[1] These words are slightly edited.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2015/10/21/god-meets-you-where-you-are-and-why-that-can-sound-threatening/
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