02/22/2015 ~ First Sunday in Lent ~ Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 25:1-10; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15.
Covenant, Part I: Presence
“God said, ‘Here is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for ageless generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.’” — Genesis 9:12-13
It is likely most of you know or have heard about Dr. Anthony Cicoria. He specializes in orthopedic medicine. One reason it’s likely you know about him or have heard of him is because a number of us, myself included, have been operated on by Tony.
As you may also be aware, some years ago Dr. Cicoria was struck by lightning while standing next to a public telephone. Tony had just hung up the phone and was about a foot away from it when a rogue bolt of lightning struck the instrument.
One major consequence of that is quite unusual. After recovering from burn injuries, the good doctor had an insatiable desire to listen to piano music.
Not only did he listen but he acquired a piano and started to teach himself to play. His head seemed to be flooded with music. Although prior to this accident he had no particular interest in music, within three months of being struck by lightning Cicoria had started to spend much of his free time playing and even composing music.
Given this phenomena, Tony’s notoriety spread beyond the confines of Chenango County. Indeed, he was profiled in a book Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain written by the neurologist and famous author, Dr. Oliver Sacks. [1]
Dr. Sacks is, of course, quite well known. In fact, he was portrayed by Robin Williams in the film Awakenings, based on one of his books. This week Dr. Sacks published an essay in the NY Times. The essay addressed his impending death. What follows is some of what Dr. Sacks had to say in that article. (Slight pause.)
A month ago I was in good, even robust health. At 81, I still swim a mile a day. But my luck has run out. A few weeks ago I learned I have multiple growths in my liver.
Nine years ago I had a rare tumor of the eye. Radiation and a laser removed the tumor and left me blind in that eye. But only in very rare cases do such tumors metastasize. I am among the 2 percent.
Over the last few days, I have been able to see my life as from a great altitude, as a sort of landscape, with a deepening sense of the connection of all its parts. This does not mean I am finished with life.
On the contrary, I feel intensely alive. I want and hope in the time that remains to deepen my friendships, say farewell to those I love, write more, travel if I have the strength, achieve new levels of understanding and insight.
This will involve audacity, clarity, plain speaking;.... There will also be time for some fun (and even some silliness, as well).
I feel a sudden clear focus and perspective. There is no time for anything inessential. I must focus on myself, my work, my friends. I shall no longer look at the PBS “NewsHour” every night. I shall no longer pay any attention to politics or silly arguments.
Then Dr. Sacks says this: I rejoice when I meet gifted young people— even the one who took the biopsy and then told be about me the diagnosis I did not want to hear. Gifted young people help me feel the future is in good hands. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Genesis: “God said, ‘Here is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for ageless generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.’” (Slight pause.)
The readings for Lent in year ‘B’ of the common lectionary largely look at covenant. Indeed, you may have noticed the sermon title is Covenant, Part I: Presence. The implication of that is you will hear more about covenant soon.
Now, contrary to populist belief, covenant— especially the covenant entered into by God in Scripture— is not a contract. A contract is an agreement between two parties which implies both are benefitting in some way. A contract is, therefore, a transaction.
The covenant of God is in no way a transaction. Why? God is receiving nothing from humanity in return. Further, God expects nothing from humanity in return. The covenant is a gift from God.
Noah and the family of Noah have no part in this covenant, no role to play, no obligation. The usual verb for covenant-making uses the Hebrew word for “cut,” which, indeed, implies a two sided deal. But there is no mutuality or reciprocity expressed here. The word “cut” is not used. The covenant is all the doing of God, the responsibility of God, an act of amazing graciousness, the very self-giving of God.
Additionally, in the covenant proclaimed in these words God is asserting a presence. Again, this is not a transaction. This is simply a statement about a reality. At its roots, the statement is simplicity itself: God is. Indeed, this is a statement God makes in Scripture many times. God is. God is present. God is real. God is active.
Then God takes a second step in this covenant, a step beyond a statement about the reality of being, the reality of being present, the reality of being active, the truth of being real. (Quote:) “When my bow is in the clouds, I will look at it and call to mind the everlasting covenant between God and all living beings— all flesh that is on the earth.”
Put another way, this is a promise not just to be present and to be a presence. God promises to be faithful.
That brings us to the Gospel reading. This is the Good News proclaimed by Jesus. (Quote:) “The time is fulfilled, and the dominion of God has come near, the reign of God is at hand.” The time is fulfilled... (Slight pause.)
I do not see the Word proclaimed by Jesus as being an apocalyptic message as some do. Jesus is not saying the world will end. Jesus us saying God is here. Jesus is saying God is real. Jesus is saying God is with us now. Jesus is saying God is present. Jesus is saying God walks with us. Jesus is saying God is at our side.
Further, this presence of God— God at our side— does not demand anything from us. Rather it poses a question to us. This is the question. “Do we love God?” (Slight pause.)
You see, if God is not real, if God is some far off, phantasmagoric concept, then it becomes pretty hard to say we love God. It is hard to love someone who is not real to us. It is hard to love someone who is not real for us. But if God is real to us and for us, then we need to ask ourselves what are we to do with that? (Slight pause.)
This is the very question which brings us back to Dr. Oliver Sacks. At the end of the essay the doctor says this.
When people die, they cannot be replaced. They leave holes that cannot be filled. It is the fate— the genetic and neural fate— of every human being to be a unique individual, to find their own path, to live their own life, to die their own death.
I cannot pretend I am without fear. But my predominant feeling is one of gratitude. I have loved and been loved; I have been given much and I have given something in return;... [2] (Slight pause.)
I think the message of the covenant is simple. God makes no demand on us. But God is present. God is real. God walks with us.
Put another way, God is ever present, no matter what our circumstances, no matter what our life situation, no matter what happens. God is faithful. God loves all of us. God loves each of us. That is the covenant claimed by Scripture— the real presence of God with us now and throughout eternity. Amen.
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Shalom— peace— the real presence of God. Is the real presence of God real for us, as real as this stone? Or, better yet, is the real presence of God like the presence of someone we love— a parent, a life partner, a child?” [3]
BENEDICTION: We are children of God, beloved and blessed. Let us be renewed in this season which holds the promise of resurrection at its close. And yes, hear and believe the Good News: God reigns now. Let us depart in confidence and joy knowing that God is with us and let us carry Christ in our hearts. Amen.
[1] Needless to say, the practice of Dr. Cicoria is in Norwich.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tony_Cicoria
[2] Both of the sections about and by Sacks are from the same article. These words have been slightly edited for this medium. Any shift in meaning is unintentional. I have not placed quotation marks around the text from the article below for this reason. I encourage you to look the article up.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/02/19/opinion/oliver-sacks-on-learning-he-has-terminal-cancer.html
[3] The pastor holds up a stone used during the Children’s Sermon that has the word Shalom in Hebrew etched in it. The pastor explained that Shalom— peace— speaks to the presence of God.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
SERMON ~ 02/15/2015 ~ “A Share of the Spirit”
02/15/2015 ~ The Last Sunday After the Epiphany, Known in Many Traditions as Transfiguration Sunday and in others as the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time. It is the Last Sunday before the Season of Lent ~ 2 Kings 2:1-12 [Note: Used 1-14]; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9.
A Share of the Spirit
“Elisha took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen, and struck the water, saying, ‘Where is Yahweh, the God of Elijah?’ When Elisha struck the water, it parted to the one side and to the other, to the right and to the left and Elisha crossed over the river.”— 2 Kings 2:14.
The more things change the more they stay the same. I have what may be proof of that. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I was a member of All Angels Episcopal Church on the Upper West Side in Manhattan.
Several of us would meet with the Pastor, the Rev. Carol Anderson— one of the first women officially ordained in the Episcopal Church— for Bible Study each Wednesday at about 6:00 p.m. After spending an hour with Carol and with Scripture, we’d all go around the corner to a pub on Broadway to talk some more about theology and to knock back a few beers.
Going to a pub to talk about theology and to knock down a few beers is not as radical or different as it sounds. Martin Luther is reputed to have said, “There is no beer in heaven, so let us drink it here.”
And apparently, after the classes he taught at the University of Wittenberg, Luther and the students would repair to the local pub to talk some more about theology and to knock back a few beers. What was that I said? The more things change the more they stay the same.
People practicing what has come to be called pub theology is still with us. This weekend you can see the Public Broadcasting show Religion and Ethics News-weekly on WKSG which will highlight the Kyrie Pub Church in Fort Worth, Texas. That church has worship services in a pub. Since they are already in a pub they don’t even have to go elsewhere for the beer.
That episode of the show will also feature the Pastor and self-proclaimed pub theologian Bryan Berghoef. (By the way, I think in using the title “pub theologian” Berghoef is picking up on Luther’s example.) Berghoef also gathers people to study Scripture and talk about it in a pub in Washington, D.C., again, hence and also, avoiding the necessity of traveling to far to find a beer.
In fact, we in the New York Conference can lay claim to something similar. A new church start a couple of years ago, the Journey United Church of Christ in the Albany area, at first in a hotel bar on Sunday mornings before opening time.
They have become much more conventional. They now meet at the club house of a local Kiwanis club. I’ve never been there, so I don’t know— the Kiwanis may have a bar also.
In any case, pastor Berghoef, who comes out of the Reformed Church in America tradition and whom I’ve quoted before, says this (quote): “Pub Theology gatherings tend to be open spaces for people of all religious traditions, as well as non-religious folks like agnostics, atheists and humanists.” [1]
Coming back to when I was hanging out in a pub and discussing theology, I need to say two things about that. First, going to the pub put me in a somewhat awkward position. I was not a drinker. So, I ordered soda. But no one seemed to mind. A litt;e like Berghoef crew they were an accepting, non-judgmental group.
Second— and this reiterates the idea that the more things change the more they stay the same— when I was in a pub discussing theology the people with whom I was hanging out where mostly under thirty. The same is true today. The pub crowd is a young crowd.
Now, there is a rumor about young people leaving or not even being present in the church. But when sociologists do in depth interviews with young people this is what they discover. Young people are deeply interested in theology. Young people are deeply interested in leaning about theology. And once well informed, young people are deeply interested in acting on their theological beliefs.
What is it in which they are not particularly interested? They are not interested in the institution called church. Why? They’ve been to churches and/or heard church members talk. From what they see and hear it appears to them and sounds to them as if the environment in churches presents a scarcity of interest in theology, in learning about theology, a scarcity of interest in acting out and on the precepts of theology. (Slight pause)
We find these words in Second Kings: “Elisha took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen, and struck the water, saying, ‘Where is Yahweh, the God of Elijah?’ When Elisha struck the water, it parted to the one side and to the other, to the right and to the left and Elisha crossed over the river.” (Slight pause)
This reading addresses a crisis in the history of Israel. The crisis is about the transfer of leadership from one generation to the next, the old guard to new faces. So, when one generation ends how does the disciple, how do the disciples, the next generation get to continue the work?
Indeed, in this passage there is enormous anxiety about the “successor.” Can this successor function in a way comparable to how things have always been? How will this transition from the leader of one generation to the leader in the next generation be made real? (Slight pause.)
There are two important interpersonal things going on here. One is the willingness of Elisha to stay with Elijah. But of equal importance is the willingness of Elijah to allow for Elisha to stay, to be engaged, to remain engaged, to act. Indeed, one key here is the interaction between them on a very personal level.
And then there is the mantel, the symbol which is worn by Elijah and passed on to Elisha. It is a symbol that the presence of God, the work of God will continue. And, if you do not think this is about the work of God please do note, the word Elijah means “My God is Yahweh.” The word, the name Elisha means “My God is salvation.”
Further and as you heard, Elisha, the disciple, asks for a (quote:) “share of your spirit.” But what needs to be noted is the groundwork for this transition in leadership has already been solidified.
Elijah is not just a mentor for Elisha. And Elisha is not just a disciple of Elijah. They are united as one, working together, being together. It is a very personal relationship.
But perhaps more importantly, their work does not center on the preservation of an institution. Their work centers on theology. Their work centers on the work of God.
That brings me to a very interesting point. When we hear the word prophet we think of an individual. In part that’s because some individual prophets left writings. However, in this passage we hear what perhaps strikes us as an odd phrase several times: “company of prophets.”
There is a company of prophets at Bethel. There is a company of prophets at Jericho. There is a company of prophets at the Jordan— three different companies of prophets— all of whom seem to want to discourage Elisha and none of whom seem to want to cross the Jordan with Elijah and Elisha.
But what does that mean— company of prophets? (Slight pause.) Whereas we envision the very word prophet as being singular, it is not in Hebrew. Prophets came in groups. It was often a family business. And the business of the family tended to be to act as defenders of the institution rather than as practitioners of theology. (Slight pause.)
I think there is a message for we in the institutional church here. It is a simple message. Theology needs to come first.
Without theology there is a great danger that whatever mission we think we might have becomes skewed. Indeed, the mission ceases to be theology. The mission becomes the preservation of the institution.
What do we, in the church, need to do to overcome a skewed mission? We need to study theology. We need to live theology.
Indeed, that is what this transition is about: lived theology. And lived theology means not just doing. After all, just doing can wind up a busy work. Lived theology means doing the work of God.
In a conversation with a friend this week, a member of the laity, I asked, “How’s it going.” He said, “Some things are good; some things are bad; some things are strange; the solution is to get out from under the bed and do something about it.”
Which brings me back to a pub filled with young people talking about theology. Young people are interested in theology. They are interested in doing. They are interested in deep, close and very personal relationships. They are interested in crossing the Jordan.
How can we “share the Spirit?” Here’s my suggestion: we can start by studying theology and see where that leads us— us meaning the church. My bet is it will lead us to places beyond our imagining. My guess is studying theology will lead us across the Jordan. Amen.
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Many of you know I was born into the Roman Catholic tradition and I have often said I have Jesuit training. So, please allow me this Catholic, Jesuit joke. A Franciscan, a Dominican and a Jesuit walk into a bar.... and the lights suddenly go out. The Franciscan praises the chance to live more simply and lights a candle. Having been shown the light, the Dominican gives a learned homily on how God brings light to the world. The Jesuit goes to the basement and fixes the fuses. My friends, if something is broken you have to fix it. In the church there is only one way to fix the fuses. Start with theology.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace. God reigns. Therefore, let us go in forth in the name of Christ proclaiming the peace of God which surpasses understanding. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the presence of Christ be with us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] http://pubtheologian.com/2015/02/13/pubtheology-on-pbs/
A Share of the Spirit
“Elisha took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen, and struck the water, saying, ‘Where is Yahweh, the God of Elijah?’ When Elisha struck the water, it parted to the one side and to the other, to the right and to the left and Elisha crossed over the river.”— 2 Kings 2:14.
The more things change the more they stay the same. I have what may be proof of that. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I was a member of All Angels Episcopal Church on the Upper West Side in Manhattan.
Several of us would meet with the Pastor, the Rev. Carol Anderson— one of the first women officially ordained in the Episcopal Church— for Bible Study each Wednesday at about 6:00 p.m. After spending an hour with Carol and with Scripture, we’d all go around the corner to a pub on Broadway to talk some more about theology and to knock back a few beers.
Going to a pub to talk about theology and to knock down a few beers is not as radical or different as it sounds. Martin Luther is reputed to have said, “There is no beer in heaven, so let us drink it here.”
And apparently, after the classes he taught at the University of Wittenberg, Luther and the students would repair to the local pub to talk some more about theology and to knock back a few beers. What was that I said? The more things change the more they stay the same.
People practicing what has come to be called pub theology is still with us. This weekend you can see the Public Broadcasting show Religion and Ethics News-weekly on WKSG which will highlight the Kyrie Pub Church in Fort Worth, Texas. That church has worship services in a pub. Since they are already in a pub they don’t even have to go elsewhere for the beer.
That episode of the show will also feature the Pastor and self-proclaimed pub theologian Bryan Berghoef. (By the way, I think in using the title “pub theologian” Berghoef is picking up on Luther’s example.) Berghoef also gathers people to study Scripture and talk about it in a pub in Washington, D.C., again, hence and also, avoiding the necessity of traveling to far to find a beer.
In fact, we in the New York Conference can lay claim to something similar. A new church start a couple of years ago, the Journey United Church of Christ in the Albany area, at first in a hotel bar on Sunday mornings before opening time.
They have become much more conventional. They now meet at the club house of a local Kiwanis club. I’ve never been there, so I don’t know— the Kiwanis may have a bar also.
In any case, pastor Berghoef, who comes out of the Reformed Church in America tradition and whom I’ve quoted before, says this (quote): “Pub Theology gatherings tend to be open spaces for people of all religious traditions, as well as non-religious folks like agnostics, atheists and humanists.” [1]
Coming back to when I was hanging out in a pub and discussing theology, I need to say two things about that. First, going to the pub put me in a somewhat awkward position. I was not a drinker. So, I ordered soda. But no one seemed to mind. A litt;e like Berghoef crew they were an accepting, non-judgmental group.
Second— and this reiterates the idea that the more things change the more they stay the same— when I was in a pub discussing theology the people with whom I was hanging out where mostly under thirty. The same is true today. The pub crowd is a young crowd.
Now, there is a rumor about young people leaving or not even being present in the church. But when sociologists do in depth interviews with young people this is what they discover. Young people are deeply interested in theology. Young people are deeply interested in leaning about theology. And once well informed, young people are deeply interested in acting on their theological beliefs.
What is it in which they are not particularly interested? They are not interested in the institution called church. Why? They’ve been to churches and/or heard church members talk. From what they see and hear it appears to them and sounds to them as if the environment in churches presents a scarcity of interest in theology, in learning about theology, a scarcity of interest in acting out and on the precepts of theology. (Slight pause)
We find these words in Second Kings: “Elisha took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen, and struck the water, saying, ‘Where is Yahweh, the God of Elijah?’ When Elisha struck the water, it parted to the one side and to the other, to the right and to the left and Elisha crossed over the river.” (Slight pause)
This reading addresses a crisis in the history of Israel. The crisis is about the transfer of leadership from one generation to the next, the old guard to new faces. So, when one generation ends how does the disciple, how do the disciples, the next generation get to continue the work?
Indeed, in this passage there is enormous anxiety about the “successor.” Can this successor function in a way comparable to how things have always been? How will this transition from the leader of one generation to the leader in the next generation be made real? (Slight pause.)
There are two important interpersonal things going on here. One is the willingness of Elisha to stay with Elijah. But of equal importance is the willingness of Elijah to allow for Elisha to stay, to be engaged, to remain engaged, to act. Indeed, one key here is the interaction between them on a very personal level.
And then there is the mantel, the symbol which is worn by Elijah and passed on to Elisha. It is a symbol that the presence of God, the work of God will continue. And, if you do not think this is about the work of God please do note, the word Elijah means “My God is Yahweh.” The word, the name Elisha means “My God is salvation.”
Further and as you heard, Elisha, the disciple, asks for a (quote:) “share of your spirit.” But what needs to be noted is the groundwork for this transition in leadership has already been solidified.
Elijah is not just a mentor for Elisha. And Elisha is not just a disciple of Elijah. They are united as one, working together, being together. It is a very personal relationship.
But perhaps more importantly, their work does not center on the preservation of an institution. Their work centers on theology. Their work centers on the work of God.
That brings me to a very interesting point. When we hear the word prophet we think of an individual. In part that’s because some individual prophets left writings. However, in this passage we hear what perhaps strikes us as an odd phrase several times: “company of prophets.”
There is a company of prophets at Bethel. There is a company of prophets at Jericho. There is a company of prophets at the Jordan— three different companies of prophets— all of whom seem to want to discourage Elisha and none of whom seem to want to cross the Jordan with Elijah and Elisha.
But what does that mean— company of prophets? (Slight pause.) Whereas we envision the very word prophet as being singular, it is not in Hebrew. Prophets came in groups. It was often a family business. And the business of the family tended to be to act as defenders of the institution rather than as practitioners of theology. (Slight pause.)
I think there is a message for we in the institutional church here. It is a simple message. Theology needs to come first.
Without theology there is a great danger that whatever mission we think we might have becomes skewed. Indeed, the mission ceases to be theology. The mission becomes the preservation of the institution.
What do we, in the church, need to do to overcome a skewed mission? We need to study theology. We need to live theology.
Indeed, that is what this transition is about: lived theology. And lived theology means not just doing. After all, just doing can wind up a busy work. Lived theology means doing the work of God.
In a conversation with a friend this week, a member of the laity, I asked, “How’s it going.” He said, “Some things are good; some things are bad; some things are strange; the solution is to get out from under the bed and do something about it.”
Which brings me back to a pub filled with young people talking about theology. Young people are interested in theology. They are interested in doing. They are interested in deep, close and very personal relationships. They are interested in crossing the Jordan.
How can we “share the Spirit?” Here’s my suggestion: we can start by studying theology and see where that leads us— us meaning the church. My bet is it will lead us to places beyond our imagining. My guess is studying theology will lead us across the Jordan. Amen.
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Many of you know I was born into the Roman Catholic tradition and I have often said I have Jesuit training. So, please allow me this Catholic, Jesuit joke. A Franciscan, a Dominican and a Jesuit walk into a bar.... and the lights suddenly go out. The Franciscan praises the chance to live more simply and lights a candle. Having been shown the light, the Dominican gives a learned homily on how God brings light to the world. The Jesuit goes to the basement and fixes the fuses. My friends, if something is broken you have to fix it. In the church there is only one way to fix the fuses. Start with theology.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace. God reigns. Therefore, let us go in forth in the name of Christ proclaiming the peace of God which surpasses understanding. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the presence of Christ be with us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] http://pubtheologian.com/2015/02/13/pubtheology-on-pbs/
Sunday, February 8, 2015
SERMON ~ 02/08/2015 ~ “The Message of the Itinerant Preacher”
02/08/2015 ~ Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ The Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 40:21-31; Psalm 147:1-11, 20c; 1 Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39.
The Message of the Itinerant Preacher
“Jesus answered, ‘Let us move on to the neighboring towns and villages so I may proclaim the message in them also. That is what I have come to do.’” — Mark 1:38
I have often made statements here in this pulpit about my involvement in professional theater. While I have mentioned what I am about to say to individuals in private concerning that work, I don’t think I have ever mentioned what I am about to say from the pulpit. So, here goes. (Slight pause.)
Fairly early on I knew I wanted to write for the theater. Both in elementary school and in high school I had acted in plays. But I also knew what I learned doing school productions was, in comparison to working in professional theater, somewhat rudimentary.
So, when I came of age, I marched myself down to 120 Madison Avenue, New York, New York, and enrolled in the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Among the famous alumni this school claims are Robert Redford, Anne Bancroft, Danny DeVito and Lauren Bacall. And as I indicated, to the best of my memory, I have never admitted from the pulpit that I actually attended the American Academy.
But the fact that I enrolled asks the obvious question: why? After all, writing and acting are not the same craft. (Slight pause.) Well, since I knew I wanted to write for theater. I therefore thought it wise to find out what professional actors know, discover something about how they learn, what they learn, how actors are taught to think.
To put it differently, as a writer I needed to know about actors because if you are not writing something for actors to say, don’t make the claim that you’re a playwright. You are not. You’re a novelist.
In any case, at the American Academy I found out a couple of very important things. While the famous playwright and actor Noël Coward said the first job of an actor is find out where the furniture is placed on stage so you won’t bump into it and to recite your lines clearly— both of which sound like really simple, easy instructions— the first thing I learned about acting is that it is not at all simple, easy. Indeed, it is very hard.
What makes acting hard? I think the prime thing that makes acting hard is what theater people call the sub-text. And what an actor has to do is to play not the text of a play, not the words that are written, but the sub-text. So, what is sub-text?
The sub-text is what the writer has not written down on the page but something which lurks beneath the words of a play. To be clear, I am saying this as a writer. Words on paper are simply words on paper.
Words do not live until an actor turns them from mere words into action and emotions. In short, what any playwright wants is an actor who can not only make words come alive but who has the talent to dig beneath the words and explore that sub-text.
Let me see if I can illustrate what sub-text is with a story. (Slight pause.) Having grown up in New York City and being involved in theater, I had the privilege of seeing many great actors at work.
I once saw George C. Scott and Anne Bancroft, two of the finest actors of the last fifty years, directed by Mike Nichols, one of the great directors of the last fifty years, in a production of Little Foxes. I don’t know if Little Foxes is a great play. But it gets produced often and actors in those productions are invariably nominated for Tony awards.
In any case, Mike Nichols staged one scene this way. The character played by Anne Bancroft sat in a chair upstage and gave a severe tongue lashing to the character played by George C. Scott. Scott stood downstage, back to the audience and said not a word throughout Bancroft’s dialogue.
Please note: the words the audience heard consisted solely of the verbally abusive monologue administered by Bancroft’s character. But believe me the words are not what the audience remembered. The audience remembered the back of George C. Scott. [Still amplified so people could hear, the pastor moves from the pulpit to the center of the platform and, with back turned to the Congregation says the following and illustrates the words by doing what Scott did.]
Scott started out with amazingly erect posture. And as line after line after line was delivered, as Bancroft hammered away at Scott, you could see his back slowly weaken and bend. Again, Scott did not say one line, one word for over a minute. He simply reacted. [The pastor returns to the pulpit.] As I sat there and watched, the only thought that come to my mind was— oh, my: this man is acting with his back.
Further and equally, what Bancroft said, the words in the script, were less important than how she said them. She made it clear her character was not only saying abusive things to the character Scott played. Her character was enjoying it, really having fun being abusive.
That is sub-text. Which is to say you can never simply read a play. Mere words don’t tell the full story, do not carry the full meaning.
You always need to pay attention not to what the words say but to what they mean, pay attention what other things are going on, pay attention the places to which the words point. That’s sub-text. (Slight pause.)
We find this passage in the Gospel commonly called Mark: “Jesus answered, ‘Let us move on to the neighboring towns and villages so I may proclaim the message in them also. That is what I have come to do.’” (Slight pause.)
When we simply read Scripture and pay too much attention to what the words say it’s more than likely we miss will what’s vital, what’s important. Why? Scholars make a fairly sound argument that a vast majority of Scripture is based in an oral tradition. In short, Scripture was spoken before it was written.
There is clear internal evidence in the Epistles that even Paul, perhaps the most literary of writers in Scripture, the one most married to words, dictated to a scribe. Paul spoke and it was written down. Paul’s written words start as oral testimony. (Slight pause.)
There is no question about this: once writing is committed to the page— writing that had been verbal— something of its vibrance, its ability to live, can be lost unless we read that writing with care and with the thought in mind that its origins are oral. And what is it that we most often lose because we fail to recognize that? The sub-text.
This is also to say Scripture is more oral and more theatrical than we realize. Our tendency, you see, is to treat it as text and forget there is more to it than that.
Therefore, when we read Scripture, we always need to pay attention to the sub-text because the oral is always there, in the background. More than what the words say, we need to focus on what the words mean and the places to which the words point.
I have an example of how sub-text works in this passage. Many people get caught up in the stories about healing found here. And I understand that. These are very appealing stories.
But to reiterate, it is a mistake to not ask the obvious question: to what place do these stories point? And to what place do the stories of healing words point?
I think the place to which they point is fairly clear. The stories about healing point to the work of the itinerant preacher we know as Jesus. And this Jesus preaches a very specific message, so they also point to that message.
What is that message? You’ve heard me say this before: the Dominion of God is here, is now, is with us. And in fact, the stories about healing are meant to be taken not as stories simply about healing. They are meant to be taken as a sign that the Dominion of God is here, and is now, and is with us.
Which is also to say a question often asked is this: ‘Are these stories about healing real?’ ‘Did healing happen?’ These kinds of questions miss the point of what’s going on and what’s being said.
Whether or not healing happened is moot. The stories are not about healing. The stories are meant to be yet another sign that the Dominion of God is here, is now, is with us. (Slight pause.)
Now, there is something else I need to mention. None of what I just said negates who Jesus is, diminishes Jesus in any way. Jesus is the Messiah, the Second Person of the Trinity. To say that it’s a moot point as to wether or not the healings are real in fact affirms that Jesus is the Messiah.
Indeed, once you understand that the message of the itinerant preacher known as Jesus, this message that the Dominion of God is with us, it is then impossible to draw any other conclusion about the identity of Jesus. Jesus is the Messiah.
And last, if you do pay attention to the sub-text, you also come to an understanding that the love of God expressed for all humanity is expressed in Jesus. Indeed, here’s another bit of sub-text: Jesus, the Messiah, as the Second Person of the Trinity, is the One through Whom God shows us the possibility, the reality, that the world might be healed— that the world might be healed. That is the reality of the healing and the idea that the Dominion is here, the Dominion is now, the Dominion is with us. Amen.
02/08/2015
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 Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I hope I’ve made one thing clear about Scripture. You can never simply just read it. You need to study it and thereby make it your own. Simply reading it and expecting to get something vital out of it is to treat Scripture like a magic lamp. Rub it and your wish will come true. That’s not how it works.”
BENEDICTION: Surely God will empower our ministry; surely God will supply for our needs when we are about the work of God; may this God, the God who formed the universe, bless us with the courage, the knowledge, the wisdom and the fortitude to serve the Gospel of Christ, empowered by the Spirit, this day and forever more. Amen.
The Message of the Itinerant Preacher
“Jesus answered, ‘Let us move on to the neighboring towns and villages so I may proclaim the message in them also. That is what I have come to do.’” — Mark 1:38
I have often made statements here in this pulpit about my involvement in professional theater. While I have mentioned what I am about to say to individuals in private concerning that work, I don’t think I have ever mentioned what I am about to say from the pulpit. So, here goes. (Slight pause.)
Fairly early on I knew I wanted to write for the theater. Both in elementary school and in high school I had acted in plays. But I also knew what I learned doing school productions was, in comparison to working in professional theater, somewhat rudimentary.
So, when I came of age, I marched myself down to 120 Madison Avenue, New York, New York, and enrolled in the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Among the famous alumni this school claims are Robert Redford, Anne Bancroft, Danny DeVito and Lauren Bacall. And as I indicated, to the best of my memory, I have never admitted from the pulpit that I actually attended the American Academy.
But the fact that I enrolled asks the obvious question: why? After all, writing and acting are not the same craft. (Slight pause.) Well, since I knew I wanted to write for theater. I therefore thought it wise to find out what professional actors know, discover something about how they learn, what they learn, how actors are taught to think.
To put it differently, as a writer I needed to know about actors because if you are not writing something for actors to say, don’t make the claim that you’re a playwright. You are not. You’re a novelist.
In any case, at the American Academy I found out a couple of very important things. While the famous playwright and actor Noël Coward said the first job of an actor is find out where the furniture is placed on stage so you won’t bump into it and to recite your lines clearly— both of which sound like really simple, easy instructions— the first thing I learned about acting is that it is not at all simple, easy. Indeed, it is very hard.
What makes acting hard? I think the prime thing that makes acting hard is what theater people call the sub-text. And what an actor has to do is to play not the text of a play, not the words that are written, but the sub-text. So, what is sub-text?
The sub-text is what the writer has not written down on the page but something which lurks beneath the words of a play. To be clear, I am saying this as a writer. Words on paper are simply words on paper.
Words do not live until an actor turns them from mere words into action and emotions. In short, what any playwright wants is an actor who can not only make words come alive but who has the talent to dig beneath the words and explore that sub-text.
Let me see if I can illustrate what sub-text is with a story. (Slight pause.) Having grown up in New York City and being involved in theater, I had the privilege of seeing many great actors at work.
I once saw George C. Scott and Anne Bancroft, two of the finest actors of the last fifty years, directed by Mike Nichols, one of the great directors of the last fifty years, in a production of Little Foxes. I don’t know if Little Foxes is a great play. But it gets produced often and actors in those productions are invariably nominated for Tony awards.
In any case, Mike Nichols staged one scene this way. The character played by Anne Bancroft sat in a chair upstage and gave a severe tongue lashing to the character played by George C. Scott. Scott stood downstage, back to the audience and said not a word throughout Bancroft’s dialogue.
Please note: the words the audience heard consisted solely of the verbally abusive monologue administered by Bancroft’s character. But believe me the words are not what the audience remembered. The audience remembered the back of George C. Scott. [Still amplified so people could hear, the pastor moves from the pulpit to the center of the platform and, with back turned to the Congregation says the following and illustrates the words by doing what Scott did.]
Scott started out with amazingly erect posture. And as line after line after line was delivered, as Bancroft hammered away at Scott, you could see his back slowly weaken and bend. Again, Scott did not say one line, one word for over a minute. He simply reacted. [The pastor returns to the pulpit.] As I sat there and watched, the only thought that come to my mind was— oh, my: this man is acting with his back.
Further and equally, what Bancroft said, the words in the script, were less important than how she said them. She made it clear her character was not only saying abusive things to the character Scott played. Her character was enjoying it, really having fun being abusive.
That is sub-text. Which is to say you can never simply read a play. Mere words don’t tell the full story, do not carry the full meaning.
You always need to pay attention not to what the words say but to what they mean, pay attention what other things are going on, pay attention the places to which the words point. That’s sub-text. (Slight pause.)
We find this passage in the Gospel commonly called Mark: “Jesus answered, ‘Let us move on to the neighboring towns and villages so I may proclaim the message in them also. That is what I have come to do.’” (Slight pause.)
When we simply read Scripture and pay too much attention to what the words say it’s more than likely we miss will what’s vital, what’s important. Why? Scholars make a fairly sound argument that a vast majority of Scripture is based in an oral tradition. In short, Scripture was spoken before it was written.
There is clear internal evidence in the Epistles that even Paul, perhaps the most literary of writers in Scripture, the one most married to words, dictated to a scribe. Paul spoke and it was written down. Paul’s written words start as oral testimony. (Slight pause.)
There is no question about this: once writing is committed to the page— writing that had been verbal— something of its vibrance, its ability to live, can be lost unless we read that writing with care and with the thought in mind that its origins are oral. And what is it that we most often lose because we fail to recognize that? The sub-text.
This is also to say Scripture is more oral and more theatrical than we realize. Our tendency, you see, is to treat it as text and forget there is more to it than that.
Therefore, when we read Scripture, we always need to pay attention to the sub-text because the oral is always there, in the background. More than what the words say, we need to focus on what the words mean and the places to which the words point.
I have an example of how sub-text works in this passage. Many people get caught up in the stories about healing found here. And I understand that. These are very appealing stories.
But to reiterate, it is a mistake to not ask the obvious question: to what place do these stories point? And to what place do the stories of healing words point?
I think the place to which they point is fairly clear. The stories about healing point to the work of the itinerant preacher we know as Jesus. And this Jesus preaches a very specific message, so they also point to that message.
What is that message? You’ve heard me say this before: the Dominion of God is here, is now, is with us. And in fact, the stories about healing are meant to be taken not as stories simply about healing. They are meant to be taken as a sign that the Dominion of God is here, and is now, and is with us.
Which is also to say a question often asked is this: ‘Are these stories about healing real?’ ‘Did healing happen?’ These kinds of questions miss the point of what’s going on and what’s being said.
Whether or not healing happened is moot. The stories are not about healing. The stories are meant to be yet another sign that the Dominion of God is here, is now, is with us. (Slight pause.)
Now, there is something else I need to mention. None of what I just said negates who Jesus is, diminishes Jesus in any way. Jesus is the Messiah, the Second Person of the Trinity. To say that it’s a moot point as to wether or not the healings are real in fact affirms that Jesus is the Messiah.
Indeed, once you understand that the message of the itinerant preacher known as Jesus, this message that the Dominion of God is with us, it is then impossible to draw any other conclusion about the identity of Jesus. Jesus is the Messiah.
And last, if you do pay attention to the sub-text, you also come to an understanding that the love of God expressed for all humanity is expressed in Jesus. Indeed, here’s another bit of sub-text: Jesus, the Messiah, as the Second Person of the Trinity, is the One through Whom God shows us the possibility, the reality, that the world might be healed— that the world might be healed. That is the reality of the healing and the idea that the Dominion is here, the Dominion is now, the Dominion is with us. Amen.
02/08/2015
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 Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I hope I’ve made one thing clear about Scripture. You can never simply just read it. You need to study it and thereby make it your own. Simply reading it and expecting to get something vital out of it is to treat Scripture like a magic lamp. Rub it and your wish will come true. That’s not how it works.”
BENEDICTION: Surely God will empower our ministry; surely God will supply for our needs when we are about the work of God; may this God, the God who formed the universe, bless us with the courage, the knowledge, the wisdom and the fortitude to serve the Gospel of Christ, empowered by the Spirit, this day and forever more. Amen.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
SERMON ~ 02/01/2015 ~ “One, True God”
02/01/2015 ~ Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Deuteronomy 18:15-20; Psalm 111; 1 Corinthians 8:1-13; Mark 1:21-28 ~ “Souper” Bowl Sunday ~ Communion Sunday.
One, True God
“Hence, as to eating food which was sacrificed to idols, we know that idols have no real existence and that there is no God but the One, true God.” — 1 Corinthians 8:4.
I want to tell you a personal story, something that happened to me when I was just thirteen. In order to do that, I need to remind you of three things concerning my own history and then something else after that. Many of you already know these things but it’s only fair to mention them to set up the story.
First, I was raised in the Roman Catholic tradition. Second, for his entire working career my Dad taught at a Jesuit High School.
Third, my Mom went into the convent but left before taking final vows. It was only after she left the nunnery that my parents met and got hitched. Or, given that outline of my parent’s history and given that I wound up working in the church, myself, I always say I simply went into the family business.
Next I need to presume that many of you are not familiar with the practices in Roman Catholicism and this story kind of works off a specific practice so I need to explain that. The practice is called fasting and abstinence. This practice changed and became largely optional for most Catholics in the 1980s. But fasting and abstinence was not optional when I was thirteen.
For those unfamiliar with these practices, that certainly begs the question: what is fasting and abstinence? Fasting has an obvious definition. It is the reduction of one’s intake of food.
Generally, a fast day is a day on which one does not eat anything between meals and limits the typical three meals a day to a small breakfast, a small lunch but a normal dinner. That’s probably not a bad regular nutritional practice. But I am not sure any doctor or nutritionist would recommend that regimen as a weight loss program. But weight loss is not the point.
The point is the same one held since ancient times by mystics of many traditions. It is widely accepted that being aware of one’s own body might help one to sharpen spiritual focus and, thereby, the self-discipline. So, this might be called a helpful practice. Fasting is an honored and traditional way to do that.
Abstinence is similar but different. Abstinence is when one refrains from eating meat or meat by-products of any kind. That’s not difficult task for vegetarians but many of us are carnivores.
Indeed and to reiterate, both fasting and abstinence are simply pious practices with a long history. Even today, many people in many traditions still find fasting and abstinence useful and even observe and practice fasting and abstinence.
The paradox is, for reasons beyond my comprehension and for a lot of years, no one seemed to notice that making these practices mandatory, as was true for a long time in the Roman tradition, transformed these practices into something which was less than pious. You see, once something becomes a rule it stops being a practice. It becomes mandatory. It becomes nothing more than a rule to be observed.
In any case, back before the rules changed a practicing Catholic was expected to abstain from eating meat on all Fridays of the year. During Lent one would also Fast for the entire season of Lent, all forty days and forty nights. Sunday’s do not count as days of Lent— never did. You could eat anything, do what you wanted to do, on Sundays.
Well, all that having been said, on to the story: I was a student at Saint Ignatius Elementary School on the Upper East Side in New York City. The school— based on its name it was obviously under the patronage of the Jesuits, despite the fact that the Sisters of Charity were the teachers— the school was located just across the street from where my Dad was a teacher. The time of this incident was late Spring. I went with a group of the guys from the school to play a pick-up soft-ball game in Central Park.
When we were done I split off and headed toward the Subway to go home. It’s what you do in New York City— you get on the Subway, right? O.K.?
I was famished the way only a thirteen year old can be famished. I would have eaten anything. Just before I got to the 86th Street I.R.T. Subway station I saw one of those ubiquitous rolling hot dog stands you see all over Manhattan.
I pulled out some money and got a hot dog and a Coke. I was about ninety percent done with the hot dog when a classmate who happened to be passing by came up to me, pointed and said, “What are you doing?”
I was not sure what he meant. “I’m hungry, so I’m eating,” said I.
He pointed to the small sliver of hot dog left in my hand and said, “It’s Friday. That’s a hot dog. That’s meat.”
I was totally chagrined and very embarrassed. I don’t know if I was more embarrassed because I had broken an obvious rule or because I had been caught breaking said rule or because I had simply forgotten it’s Friday.
And the truth of the matter is I simply did forget it was Friday. And that’s what I haltingly stammered out to my classmate, “Oh, no! It’s Friday! I forgot it’s Friday! I just forgot!”
He smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t report you to the meat police.” [1] By the meat police I think he might have meant our teacher, the stern faced Sister Catherine Roberta, a person whose temper was even more stern than her countenance.
Perhaps more to the point, I felt awful, upset, even angry with myself. After all, a rule is a rule is a rule. And I broke the rule, right? (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as First Corinthians: “Hence, as to eating food which was sacrificed to idols, we know that idols have no real existence and that there is no God but the One, true God.” (Slight pause.)
At Bible Study Wednesday night— and by the way you’re all welcome to come to Bible Study Wednesday night— at Bible Study Wednesday night it was pointed out that this may be one of the most convoluted sections Paul ever wrote. On the other hand, that’s just Paul. On the other hand (hold it— are there three hands? O.K.) on the other hand, I think all this is quite simple.
And I hope I just illustrated it with that story from my youth. In my case, meat was forbidden. I unknowingly broke the rule. My classmate was kind. But suppose he decided that since my Dad was a teacher in a Jesuit School and my Mom had been a nun, he could break the rule too? After all— that holy guy did it! Would that be all right?
Or suppose he was not kind and had reported my transgression to the meat police? Would punishment have been (pardon the pun) meted out? Well, perhaps.
But I want to and need to point out the obvious. This is not about the meat police, Paul’s meat police or my meat police.
Paul, convoluted as the Apostle does tend to be, is merely trying to illustrate a very central truth by telling a story. And the message of story is simple: the meat means nothing. God and God only God is central in our lives.
But not everyone knew that then. Not everyone knows that now. Some people think if one person breaks a rule everyone can break a rule.
Other people actually think the rules are about meat and rules about meat are central to our lives. And never mind meat. Some people think rules are central. Put another way, some people think rules are God. Paul has an answer for that too.
(Quote:) “...anyone who loves God is known completely by God.” So, here’s the short version of that— mine, not Paul’s: God loves us. When we recognize God loves us, rules do not much matter. When we recognize God loves us, the love of God is the only thing that really matters— the love of God is the only thing that really matters. Case closed. Amen.
02/01/2015
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 Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I have said this here before; it bears repeating today. Tradition has it that Rabbi Hillel was both a contemporary of Paul and a teacher of Paul. The story goes that a Roman Centurion went to the Rabbi and said if you can teach me everything there is to know about the Hebrew Scriptures while I am balanced on one foot, I will convert and become a Jew. Hillel said, “Love God; love neighbor; the rest is commentary.”
BENEDICTION: People of light, turn toward God with joy and be free and open to the empowerment God offers. People of unity, be one in Christ. People of commitment, dare to run the race with courage. May the Spirit dwell with us and may the peace of Christ, which surpasses our understanding keep our hearts, minds and spirits centered on God, this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] It should be noted that there was a good amount of laughter from the Congregation during the telling of this story.
One, True God
“Hence, as to eating food which was sacrificed to idols, we know that idols have no real existence and that there is no God but the One, true God.” — 1 Corinthians 8:4.
I want to tell you a personal story, something that happened to me when I was just thirteen. In order to do that, I need to remind you of three things concerning my own history and then something else after that. Many of you already know these things but it’s only fair to mention them to set up the story.
First, I was raised in the Roman Catholic tradition. Second, for his entire working career my Dad taught at a Jesuit High School.
Third, my Mom went into the convent but left before taking final vows. It was only after she left the nunnery that my parents met and got hitched. Or, given that outline of my parent’s history and given that I wound up working in the church, myself, I always say I simply went into the family business.
Next I need to presume that many of you are not familiar with the practices in Roman Catholicism and this story kind of works off a specific practice so I need to explain that. The practice is called fasting and abstinence. This practice changed and became largely optional for most Catholics in the 1980s. But fasting and abstinence was not optional when I was thirteen.
For those unfamiliar with these practices, that certainly begs the question: what is fasting and abstinence? Fasting has an obvious definition. It is the reduction of one’s intake of food.
Generally, a fast day is a day on which one does not eat anything between meals and limits the typical three meals a day to a small breakfast, a small lunch but a normal dinner. That’s probably not a bad regular nutritional practice. But I am not sure any doctor or nutritionist would recommend that regimen as a weight loss program. But weight loss is not the point.
The point is the same one held since ancient times by mystics of many traditions. It is widely accepted that being aware of one’s own body might help one to sharpen spiritual focus and, thereby, the self-discipline. So, this might be called a helpful practice. Fasting is an honored and traditional way to do that.
Abstinence is similar but different. Abstinence is when one refrains from eating meat or meat by-products of any kind. That’s not difficult task for vegetarians but many of us are carnivores.
Indeed and to reiterate, both fasting and abstinence are simply pious practices with a long history. Even today, many people in many traditions still find fasting and abstinence useful and even observe and practice fasting and abstinence.
The paradox is, for reasons beyond my comprehension and for a lot of years, no one seemed to notice that making these practices mandatory, as was true for a long time in the Roman tradition, transformed these practices into something which was less than pious. You see, once something becomes a rule it stops being a practice. It becomes mandatory. It becomes nothing more than a rule to be observed.
In any case, back before the rules changed a practicing Catholic was expected to abstain from eating meat on all Fridays of the year. During Lent one would also Fast for the entire season of Lent, all forty days and forty nights. Sunday’s do not count as days of Lent— never did. You could eat anything, do what you wanted to do, on Sundays.
Well, all that having been said, on to the story: I was a student at Saint Ignatius Elementary School on the Upper East Side in New York City. The school— based on its name it was obviously under the patronage of the Jesuits, despite the fact that the Sisters of Charity were the teachers— the school was located just across the street from where my Dad was a teacher. The time of this incident was late Spring. I went with a group of the guys from the school to play a pick-up soft-ball game in Central Park.
When we were done I split off and headed toward the Subway to go home. It’s what you do in New York City— you get on the Subway, right? O.K.?
I was famished the way only a thirteen year old can be famished. I would have eaten anything. Just before I got to the 86th Street I.R.T. Subway station I saw one of those ubiquitous rolling hot dog stands you see all over Manhattan.
I pulled out some money and got a hot dog and a Coke. I was about ninety percent done with the hot dog when a classmate who happened to be passing by came up to me, pointed and said, “What are you doing?”
I was not sure what he meant. “I’m hungry, so I’m eating,” said I.
He pointed to the small sliver of hot dog left in my hand and said, “It’s Friday. That’s a hot dog. That’s meat.”
I was totally chagrined and very embarrassed. I don’t know if I was more embarrassed because I had broken an obvious rule or because I had been caught breaking said rule or because I had simply forgotten it’s Friday.
And the truth of the matter is I simply did forget it was Friday. And that’s what I haltingly stammered out to my classmate, “Oh, no! It’s Friday! I forgot it’s Friday! I just forgot!”
He smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t report you to the meat police.” [1] By the meat police I think he might have meant our teacher, the stern faced Sister Catherine Roberta, a person whose temper was even more stern than her countenance.
Perhaps more to the point, I felt awful, upset, even angry with myself. After all, a rule is a rule is a rule. And I broke the rule, right? (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as First Corinthians: “Hence, as to eating food which was sacrificed to idols, we know that idols have no real existence and that there is no God but the One, true God.” (Slight pause.)
At Bible Study Wednesday night— and by the way you’re all welcome to come to Bible Study Wednesday night— at Bible Study Wednesday night it was pointed out that this may be one of the most convoluted sections Paul ever wrote. On the other hand, that’s just Paul. On the other hand (hold it— are there three hands? O.K.) on the other hand, I think all this is quite simple.
And I hope I just illustrated it with that story from my youth. In my case, meat was forbidden. I unknowingly broke the rule. My classmate was kind. But suppose he decided that since my Dad was a teacher in a Jesuit School and my Mom had been a nun, he could break the rule too? After all— that holy guy did it! Would that be all right?
Or suppose he was not kind and had reported my transgression to the meat police? Would punishment have been (pardon the pun) meted out? Well, perhaps.
But I want to and need to point out the obvious. This is not about the meat police, Paul’s meat police or my meat police.
Paul, convoluted as the Apostle does tend to be, is merely trying to illustrate a very central truth by telling a story. And the message of story is simple: the meat means nothing. God and God only God is central in our lives.
But not everyone knew that then. Not everyone knows that now. Some people think if one person breaks a rule everyone can break a rule.
Other people actually think the rules are about meat and rules about meat are central to our lives. And never mind meat. Some people think rules are central. Put another way, some people think rules are God. Paul has an answer for that too.
(Quote:) “...anyone who loves God is known completely by God.” So, here’s the short version of that— mine, not Paul’s: God loves us. When we recognize God loves us, rules do not much matter. When we recognize God loves us, the love of God is the only thing that really matters— the love of God is the only thing that really matters. Case closed. Amen.
02/01/2015
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 Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I have said this here before; it bears repeating today. Tradition has it that Rabbi Hillel was both a contemporary of Paul and a teacher of Paul. The story goes that a Roman Centurion went to the Rabbi and said if you can teach me everything there is to know about the Hebrew Scriptures while I am balanced on one foot, I will convert and become a Jew. Hillel said, “Love God; love neighbor; the rest is commentary.”
BENEDICTION: People of light, turn toward God with joy and be free and open to the empowerment God offers. People of unity, be one in Christ. People of commitment, dare to run the race with courage. May the Spirit dwell with us and may the peace of Christ, which surpasses our understanding keep our hearts, minds and spirits centered on God, this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] It should be noted that there was a good amount of laughter from the Congregation during the telling of this story.
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