05/29/2016 ~ Second Sunday after Pentecost ~ Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 4) ~ 1 Kings 18:20-21, (22-29), 30-39; Psalm 96; 1 Kings 8:22-23, 41-43; Psalm 96:1-9; Galatians 1:1-12; Luke 7:1-10 ~ Memorial Day Weekend ~ Reception of New Member.
Faith
“On hearing this Jesus was amazed and turned to the crowd that was following and said, ‘I tell you, I have never found this much faith among the Israelites.’” — Luke 7:9.
In the course of my comments last week I told a story. Now, I know some of you were here and heard that story but others were not. That’s the nature of week to week on a Sunday morning. So, at the beginning of what I have to say today I want to repeat that story because I think it’s pertinent. (Slight pause.)
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, back when I lived in New York City I got into a discussion with an Episcopal priest. This cleric told me upon ordination that he had taken a vow to preach what the church believed.
That’s interesting, said I. You’ve taken a vow to do something that’s impossible to do. You cannot preach what the church believes. All you can do is preach what you believe to be what the church believes. What the church collectively believes and what you believe the church believes may be very different things.
Further, given all the people in the church, what the church collectively believes is likely to cover quite a very broad range. So it is, at best, difficult to even say the church has a specific list of beliefs. (Slight pause.)
Let me examine that story in another way. Many people name the generations born in the 20th and 21st Century this way: Greatest Generation, Baby Boomers, Generation X, Millennials.
Many people say there is competition among generations. But it’s not about games— who wins, who loses. The real competition among generations is about and has always been about... ideas.
Further, none of the generations have an invalid way of approaching the world, a poor way of thinking, bad ideas. The ways, the approaches, the ideas of each generation are simply different.
Now, it seems obvious that we live in a rapidly changing world. And one of the things fueling that change is how serious people are thinking about the world.
The Rev. Mr. John C. Dorhauer is the General Minister and President of the United Church of Christ and also the author of several books. The most recent is Beyond Resistance: The Institutional Church Meets the Postmodern World.
In that book Dorhauer, instead of splitting generations into arbitrary groups according to age or generation, asks ‘how do people think, what is their approach, their thought process?’ Therefore Dorhauer says, one reason the world is changing is because how people think is changing, not because of competition.
The label he uses to identify the type of thinking which is now coming to the fore is Postmodern thinking. Postmodern thinking says each person comes to every encounter understanding that each person has their own life experiences. This helps make them wise and helps make them who they are and helps them be the person who they have become.
Postmodern thinking says each person realizes the person they will be tomorrow is not the same as they were yesterday because of what is happening to them today. Now I think all that sounds exactly like what I said to that Episcopal priest those many years ago.
Additionally, postmodern thinking recognizes we all have filters with which each of us sees the world. For a long time the dominant Western filter has been the Caucasian and heterosexual and male— a Caucasian and heterosexual and male view of the world. To use the slang version, that’s white and heterosexual and male.
You do not even have to be white or heterosexual or male for that to be your filter because this way of thinking is and has been all around us. It influences all of us.
Hence, for many it still is a dominant way of thinking. But in a Postmodern world this way of thinking is falling by the wayside.
In the age of Postmodern thinking, the filters of race, gender, sexuality identity, culture, class and income level are all recognized as having an influence on our thinking. They are all recognized as being aspects of how each of us thinks. [1] (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Luke: “On hearing this Jesus was amazed and turned to the crowd that was following and said, ‘I tell you, I have never found this much faith among the Israelites.’” (Slight pause.)
Scholars identify the last shift in how we humans think— before this Postmodern— they identify the last shift in how we humans think as starting with the Renaissance. That stretched from the 14th to the 17th Centuries.
This way of thinking became manifest in the art, architecture, politics, science and literature of the era. It further blossomed and was nourished by modern science with the advent of the Enlightenment of the 18th and 19th Centuries.
Clearly that span is a span of more than 500 years. Dorhauer says with Postmodern thinking it is likely we are at the very, very beginning of the next 500 year shift. It will take 500 years for the way we’ve started to think now, in our era, to reach maturity.
To be clear, that Renaissance/Enlightenment way of thinking can, in fact, readily be described as that aforementioned white, heterosexual, male filter with which we humans saw the world for so long. That filter told us: power and only power matters. And if you do what you are told by those in a position of power things will be fine.
But that way of thinking also produced this dictum, this opinion, this rule: because power reigns there is only one, singular universal truth allowable. We all need to think the same way. Deal with it.
On the other hand as I indicated, Postmodern thinking says each of us brings our own experience to the table. Our own way of thinking, therefore, matters. And what is the consequence of that? It is much, much harder to identify a singular, universal truth. We each see things our own way.
Of course, if Postmodern thinking is coming to the fore, that leaves a big question on the table. It’s the question Pilate is pictured asking Jesus in the Gospel we know as John: “what is truth?” Indeed, in a Postmodern world where each of us sees reality in a different way, can anything be labeled as a singular, universal truth? (Slight pause.)
When Jesus says, “I have never found this much faith among the Israelites” the obvious question needs to be asked: ‘what exactly is faith?’ Is faith a fact, something you possess? Is faith something based on your own perception of fact? Or is faith different than any of that? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest what we really mean by faith is trust. The Centurion trusted a healing would be provided. The Centurion did not seek a factual path to healing: perform a task or incant this prayer or take a pill and a cure will happen. This Roman simply trusted. [2]
And trust is not a fact, not something we possess. It may be ours. But trust is a verb. Trust is something we need to give away or it is meaningless. You see, we need to trust someone else. The Centurion trusted God. (Slight pause.)
In a couple of moments Meena Conant will sing Nothing Left to Say by Joe Martin and David Angerman. [3] I think even within Postmodern thinking the message of the song is straightforward, simple, singular, universal: “God is.”
And perhaps that, in a Postmodern world, is where we can each bring our own thinking, our own experience, our own understanding to the table. For each of us this is what can be said as a universal and perhaps all that can be said: God is.
But if each of us says God is, that means saying that ‘God is,’ becomes a universal. And I think this is the one universal truth available after this paradigm shift called Postmodern thinking sets in: God is; trust God.
And I also think this universal truth— God is, trust God— is vital and amazing and real. I say this universal truth is vital and amazing and real because trust translates in other ways.
You see, trust empowers joy. Trust embodies love. Trust envisions freedom. Trust says hope is real.
And yes, once each of us, on our own, comes to understand that the basis of faith is a simple idea— God is. And when each one of us does that something wonderful happens. We start to recognize that each of us does bring something to the table.
And we start to recognize that we humans, together, are one. When we recognize we are one, barriers, walls, mean nothing. And we start to recognize that— together we are a community of faith because faith is built on a verb: trust. Of course, the verb trust says when we trust God and when we trust one another it can be and is a universal truth. Amen.
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: “Two things: what happens if someone in our Postmodern world says, ‘There is no God.’ There is only one problem with that. If you say ‘There is no God’ then that becomes your God. Second, for me Scripture is clear about this: God trusts us. God has faith in us. If anything that’s more important than the other way around.”
BENEDICTION: God keeps faith forever. Go from this place filled with new life, ready to bear the good news of God’s promises. And should you find yourself feeling worried or discouraged, remember the wondrous love of God, the healing power of Christ Jesus, and the bold courage of the Holy Spirit. These go with you today and always. Amen!
[1] All this is found in the first chapter of Beyond Resistance: The Institutional Church Meets the Postmodern World by the Rev. Mr. John C. Dorhauer, Exploration Press, Chicago, IL, 2015.
[2] When this reading was introduced this was said:
“One could argue that the story we are about to hear concerns healing. But as it is read do notice how little attention is paid to the act of healing, itself.”
[3] Nothing Left to Say ~ Words and Music by Joseph M. Martin and David Angerman
When I see the morning rise,
when I gaze at cloudless skies
or watch a golden eagle as she flies,
there’s nothing left to say,
there’s nothing left to say,
there’s nothing left to say, God is.
When I watch the children play,
dancing through a summer’s day,
dreaming, singing, laughing all the way,
there’s nothing left to say,
there’s nothing left to say,
there’s nothing left to say, God is.
When I see the falling snow,
touch the beauty of the rose,
trace the winding river as it flows;
when I see a caring face,
or a simple act of grace,
people reaching out with love’s embrace;
when I hear a symphony,
view creation’s tapestry
or wonder at life’s sacred mystery,
there’s nothing left to say,
there’s nothing left to say,
there’s nothing left to say,
Lord, I stand amazed,
nothing left to say.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Sunday, May 22, 2016
SERMON ~ 05/22/2016 ~ “Simple Wisdom”
05/22/2016 ~ Trinity Sunday ~ First Sunday after Pentecost ~ Known in Some Traditions as the First Sunday after Pentecost ~ Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31 ~ Psalm 8 ~ Romans 5:1-5 ~ John 16:12-15.
Simple Wisdom
“Does not Wisdom call, does not Understanding raise Her voice?” — Proverbs 8:1.
Bart Ehrman, is a New Testament scholar, who currently teaches at University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Ehrman has written 30 books, including college textbooks.
Not simply an academic, he is a popular author who has written five New York Times bestsellers, all on the topic of Scripture. In Ehrman’s younger years he was involved in a Fundamentalist church. Now he is on the other side of that spectrum.
In a recent blog post this scholar asked a provocative question. “Whom do we consider a Christian?”
In those early years spent in a Fundamentalist church the answer for Ehrman was easy, clear, straightforward. If you had not— to use the term often used— been “born again,” you were not a Christian.
What you believed or where you worshiped or how you lived your life did not matter. Being born again is what counted.
In the eyes of those who made a claim about bring “born again,” wrote professor Ehrman, this meant many people who called themselves Christian were not. Generally at least, the “born again” litmus test excluded those in the so called “Main Line” Protestant traditions and those in the Roman and Orthodox traditions. These do not hold the “born again” statement as a central tenet of what it means to be a Christian.
There are people, said the professor in that blog, who have an even more rigorous definition of what it means to be a Christian than that simple “born again” test. Ehrman knew a person who claimed if you had not been baptized in his church (that actual local church and no other church), you were not a Christian.
So, there are billions and billions of people in the world but this person insisted only a few hundred would go to heaven. One wonders what the answer might be if you asked this person ‘how much does God love the world?’ Does God love the world enough to condemn billions and billions of people to hades? [1]
Indeed, when I was in my twenties I knew someone with a similar opinion to that. So I know that opinion is out there, first hand I know it. (Slight pause.)
Ehrman’s initial question was: “Whom do we consider a Christian?” Is it a commonly asked question, in fact. Many people want to know ‘who is in and who is out?’ But is that a theological question, a question by which one defines who is really a Christian, or is it even an accurate question?
Indeed, is a definition of any kind even possible? (Slight pause.) Well, let me tell you a story. (Slight pause.)
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, back when I lived in New York City I got into a discussion with an Episcopal priest. This cleric told me that upon ordination he had taken a vow to preach what the church believed.
That’s interesting, said I. You’ve taken a vow to do something that’s impossible to do. You cannot preach what the church believes. All you can do is preach what you believe to be what the church believes. What the church collectively believes and what you believe the church believes may be very different things.
Further, given all the people in the church, what the church collectively believes is likely to cover quite a very broad range. So it is, at best, difficult to even say the church has a specific list of beliefs. (Slight pause.)
As was stated earlier, today we celebrate the feast known as Trinity Sunday. What we celebrate with this feast is that the ancient church came to a way of describing God— not defining God but describing God.
And, as my interaction with that Episcopal priest suggests, we need to be careful about how we frame definitions. Definitions, you see, can be used as cudgels, as weapons of force against others. When used that way they are not definitions. They are weapons.
If definitions are, on the other hand, used to try explain things, to try to describe things, then— at least as much as is humanly possible and as far as the limits of mere language will allow— then they are not being used as weapons. So, lets try this definition, this description on for size. The goal here is simply explanation.
Judaism— Judaism... is commonly described as a monotheistic religion— a monotheistic religion— One God. Islam... is commonly described as a monotheistic religion— One God. Christianity... is commonly described as a monotheistic religion— One God.
But Christianity has an additional, slightly different description. We claim God is One— a monotheistic claim— and we claim God is three persons— a Trinitarian claim. Hence, in terms of description, we are monotheistic Trinitarians or Trinitarian monotheists.
Now, to me it is of little consequence if you do or do not buy into that explanation. I think what matters is, given human history over the last 2,000 years— please note: I did not say given religious history, I said given human history— given human history over the last 2,000 years with the violence of which we are aware among these three world religions and given these aforementioned definitions, these descriptions, one needs to wonder what all the fighting is about?
After all, these definitions, these descriptions, seem docile. That’s because, as definitions go, they are simply ways of describing God. And as descriptions, they clearly should not be flash points, nor should they be used as flashpoints.
To be clear, I believe I can tell you what the violence— human violence, not religions violence, human violence— I believe can tell you what the violence is about. The violence is about human self-centeredness and human self-righteousness. The violence is about people believing they are the center of the universe— self-centeredness— and that they are right because they are the center of the universe— self-righteousness.
Given that, people use God— or rather people use the excuse of God— to draw lines, create barriers, walls. Here’s the way the wall works: you are over there on that side of the line that I just drew and I am not. And, since I am right, you— on the other side of the line— are not right. And you must, therefore, be less than adequate, perhaps even less than human.
Why? Because my self-centered and self-righteous understanding of God must be the only way to describe God. It is at that point— a point of self-centeredness and self-righteousness— that people inject violence into definitions. (Slight pause.)
In a couple minutes you will be invited to recite The Nicene Creed, one of the most ancient of Creeds and the first proclaimed by a council of the early church. In our era we might be tempted to recite these words as if they were long list definitions, a list of facts, data. That is not how they were intended.
The first words of the Creed are commonly translated as, “We believe in one God,...” as if this were a statement of fact. But in the underlying language the words mean, “I give my heart to God.”
Further, if you look closely at the words of this Creed, you can see it contains both non sequiturs and illogical statements. This Creed is not meant to be logical, not meant to be a series of facts. It is meant to be theo-logical. It is meant to be about giving one’s heart to God, about loving God.
Obviously, giving one’s heart to God is very different than listing a fact. Giving one’s heart to God is not a fact— not a noun— but an action— a verb.
That brings be back to the words we heard from Proverbs. (Quote:) “Does not Wisdom call, does not Understanding raise Her voice?” As was stated when this reading was introduced, this is not a logically structured argument we heard in Proverbs. It is an arresting poem impregnated with metaphor and personification. In short, it speaks in the language of poetry, not in the language of data.
So, what is this Wisdom of God, this understanding of God? I believe the wisdom of God is a lot less structured than we like to think, especially we Westerners and we Americans. The wisdom of God can be seen in a blue sky, in modern inventions, in a rushing stream, in an alabaster city, in the love of friends and family.
These are places God can be found. These can, with great clarity, not define God for us but describe God for us. And, of course, these are not definitions. These are experiences. And experiences are actions. (Slight pause.)
One more thing: for me, a prime way God is defined is by listening, by being passive enough to listen. So, I suggest we attentively listen to and listen for wisdom and understanding. Listening for wisdom and understanding is more art than science, more poetry than lists, more experience than analysis, more heart than mind.
Hence, I think we must act— act, a verb— we must act to embrace wisdom and to seek understanding. In the action of embracing wisdom, seeking understanding, I believe God is and will be revealed to us daily. (Slight pause.)
Today my sermon title is Simple Wisdom. Paradoxically, there is nothing simple about wisdom. That’s because wisdom is an art.
So, let me leave you with the words of an artist, poet Ralph Waldo Emerson. “The remarkable mark of wisdom— the remarkable mark of wisdom— is to see the miraculous in the common.” Amen.
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: “Hugh L. Hollowell a Mennonite Pastor has said this: ‘Every time we use religion to draw a line to keep people out Jesus is with the people on the other side of the line.’ And, indeed, that is about heart, not about mind”
BENEDICTION: May the God of Trinity, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier, be with us in faith and in love and guide us in truth and peace; and may the blessing of this God be among us and remain with us always. Amen.
[1] http://ehrmanblog.org/whom-do-we-consider-a-christian/
Note: the comments from Ehrman’s Blog are edited but the whole thing is a worthwhile read.
Simple Wisdom
“Does not Wisdom call, does not Understanding raise Her voice?” — Proverbs 8:1.
Bart Ehrman, is a New Testament scholar, who currently teaches at University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Ehrman has written 30 books, including college textbooks.
Not simply an academic, he is a popular author who has written five New York Times bestsellers, all on the topic of Scripture. In Ehrman’s younger years he was involved in a Fundamentalist church. Now he is on the other side of that spectrum.
In a recent blog post this scholar asked a provocative question. “Whom do we consider a Christian?”
In those early years spent in a Fundamentalist church the answer for Ehrman was easy, clear, straightforward. If you had not— to use the term often used— been “born again,” you were not a Christian.
What you believed or where you worshiped or how you lived your life did not matter. Being born again is what counted.
In the eyes of those who made a claim about bring “born again,” wrote professor Ehrman, this meant many people who called themselves Christian were not. Generally at least, the “born again” litmus test excluded those in the so called “Main Line” Protestant traditions and those in the Roman and Orthodox traditions. These do not hold the “born again” statement as a central tenet of what it means to be a Christian.
There are people, said the professor in that blog, who have an even more rigorous definition of what it means to be a Christian than that simple “born again” test. Ehrman knew a person who claimed if you had not been baptized in his church (that actual local church and no other church), you were not a Christian.
So, there are billions and billions of people in the world but this person insisted only a few hundred would go to heaven. One wonders what the answer might be if you asked this person ‘how much does God love the world?’ Does God love the world enough to condemn billions and billions of people to hades? [1]
Indeed, when I was in my twenties I knew someone with a similar opinion to that. So I know that opinion is out there, first hand I know it. (Slight pause.)
Ehrman’s initial question was: “Whom do we consider a Christian?” Is it a commonly asked question, in fact. Many people want to know ‘who is in and who is out?’ But is that a theological question, a question by which one defines who is really a Christian, or is it even an accurate question?
Indeed, is a definition of any kind even possible? (Slight pause.) Well, let me tell you a story. (Slight pause.)
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, back when I lived in New York City I got into a discussion with an Episcopal priest. This cleric told me that upon ordination he had taken a vow to preach what the church believed.
That’s interesting, said I. You’ve taken a vow to do something that’s impossible to do. You cannot preach what the church believes. All you can do is preach what you believe to be what the church believes. What the church collectively believes and what you believe the church believes may be very different things.
Further, given all the people in the church, what the church collectively believes is likely to cover quite a very broad range. So it is, at best, difficult to even say the church has a specific list of beliefs. (Slight pause.)
As was stated earlier, today we celebrate the feast known as Trinity Sunday. What we celebrate with this feast is that the ancient church came to a way of describing God— not defining God but describing God.
And, as my interaction with that Episcopal priest suggests, we need to be careful about how we frame definitions. Definitions, you see, can be used as cudgels, as weapons of force against others. When used that way they are not definitions. They are weapons.
If definitions are, on the other hand, used to try explain things, to try to describe things, then— at least as much as is humanly possible and as far as the limits of mere language will allow— then they are not being used as weapons. So, lets try this definition, this description on for size. The goal here is simply explanation.
Judaism— Judaism... is commonly described as a monotheistic religion— a monotheistic religion— One God. Islam... is commonly described as a monotheistic religion— One God. Christianity... is commonly described as a monotheistic religion— One God.
But Christianity has an additional, slightly different description. We claim God is One— a monotheistic claim— and we claim God is three persons— a Trinitarian claim. Hence, in terms of description, we are monotheistic Trinitarians or Trinitarian monotheists.
Now, to me it is of little consequence if you do or do not buy into that explanation. I think what matters is, given human history over the last 2,000 years— please note: I did not say given religious history, I said given human history— given human history over the last 2,000 years with the violence of which we are aware among these three world religions and given these aforementioned definitions, these descriptions, one needs to wonder what all the fighting is about?
After all, these definitions, these descriptions, seem docile. That’s because, as definitions go, they are simply ways of describing God. And as descriptions, they clearly should not be flash points, nor should they be used as flashpoints.
To be clear, I believe I can tell you what the violence— human violence, not religions violence, human violence— I believe can tell you what the violence is about. The violence is about human self-centeredness and human self-righteousness. The violence is about people believing they are the center of the universe— self-centeredness— and that they are right because they are the center of the universe— self-righteousness.
Given that, people use God— or rather people use the excuse of God— to draw lines, create barriers, walls. Here’s the way the wall works: you are over there on that side of the line that I just drew and I am not. And, since I am right, you— on the other side of the line— are not right. And you must, therefore, be less than adequate, perhaps even less than human.
Why? Because my self-centered and self-righteous understanding of God must be the only way to describe God. It is at that point— a point of self-centeredness and self-righteousness— that people inject violence into definitions. (Slight pause.)
In a couple minutes you will be invited to recite The Nicene Creed, one of the most ancient of Creeds and the first proclaimed by a council of the early church. In our era we might be tempted to recite these words as if they were long list definitions, a list of facts, data. That is not how they were intended.
The first words of the Creed are commonly translated as, “We believe in one God,...” as if this were a statement of fact. But in the underlying language the words mean, “I give my heart to God.”
Further, if you look closely at the words of this Creed, you can see it contains both non sequiturs and illogical statements. This Creed is not meant to be logical, not meant to be a series of facts. It is meant to be theo-logical. It is meant to be about giving one’s heart to God, about loving God.
Obviously, giving one’s heart to God is very different than listing a fact. Giving one’s heart to God is not a fact— not a noun— but an action— a verb.
That brings be back to the words we heard from Proverbs. (Quote:) “Does not Wisdom call, does not Understanding raise Her voice?” As was stated when this reading was introduced, this is not a logically structured argument we heard in Proverbs. It is an arresting poem impregnated with metaphor and personification. In short, it speaks in the language of poetry, not in the language of data.
So, what is this Wisdom of God, this understanding of God? I believe the wisdom of God is a lot less structured than we like to think, especially we Westerners and we Americans. The wisdom of God can be seen in a blue sky, in modern inventions, in a rushing stream, in an alabaster city, in the love of friends and family.
These are places God can be found. These can, with great clarity, not define God for us but describe God for us. And, of course, these are not definitions. These are experiences. And experiences are actions. (Slight pause.)
One more thing: for me, a prime way God is defined is by listening, by being passive enough to listen. So, I suggest we attentively listen to and listen for wisdom and understanding. Listening for wisdom and understanding is more art than science, more poetry than lists, more experience than analysis, more heart than mind.
Hence, I think we must act— act, a verb— we must act to embrace wisdom and to seek understanding. In the action of embracing wisdom, seeking understanding, I believe God is and will be revealed to us daily. (Slight pause.)
Today my sermon title is Simple Wisdom. Paradoxically, there is nothing simple about wisdom. That’s because wisdom is an art.
So, let me leave you with the words of an artist, poet Ralph Waldo Emerson. “The remarkable mark of wisdom— the remarkable mark of wisdom— is to see the miraculous in the common.” Amen.
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: “Hugh L. Hollowell a Mennonite Pastor has said this: ‘Every time we use religion to draw a line to keep people out Jesus is with the people on the other side of the line.’ And, indeed, that is about heart, not about mind”
BENEDICTION: May the God of Trinity, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier, be with us in faith and in love and guide us in truth and peace; and may the blessing of this God be among us and remain with us always. Amen.
[1] http://ehrmanblog.org/whom-do-we-consider-a-christian/
Note: the comments from Ehrman’s Blog are edited but the whole thing is a worthwhile read.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
SERMON ~ 05/15/2016 ~ “The Radical Dominion”
05/15/2016 ~ Day of Pentecost ~ *Acts 2:1-21 or Genesis 11:1-9; Psalm 104:24-34, 35b; Romans 8:14-17 or Acts 2:1-21; John 14:8-17, (25-27) ~ * During Eastertide a reading from Acts is often substituted for the lesson from the Hebrew Bible ~ Boy Scout Sunday ~ Strengthen the Church All Church Offering.
The Radical Dominion
“Rabbi, said Philip, ‘show us Abba, God, and that will be enough for us.’” — John 14:8.
I am what in some quarters is called a late bloomer. As many of you know, I did not enter Seminary until I was 44 years old. What that means is, having entered Seminary at that age, I was suddenly being treated as if I was an 18 year old just entering college. At least that’s the way the banks looked at me.
Many here might be familiar with the interaction between banks and students because you are either about to enter into some advanced schooling or have gone through it recently yourself or watched your children or grandchildren go thought it. The short version of this is, at age 44, I had to sign all kinds of paper work just to get student loans.
And, at age 44, there was no expectation that parents might countersign for my loans. It was all on me.
Hence, Bangor Seminary tried to help starving seminarians by employing as many as possible with so called “student jobs.” This did not do enough to defray the cost of the education but at least it provided a little income, since most students had moved to Bangor without any prospect of employment. And one does have to eat on occasion.
My last job before I landed in Seminary had been as a library aide at a Public High School. So, when I was offered a “student job” as a library aide at Bangor Seminary it seemed a perfect fit.
For me, it certainly was. I became a better student because I needed to help others. I needed to know where all the research material was and I needed to become familiar with the entire collection of books. (Slight pause.)
The librarian, the Rev. Cliff Davis, was a fascinating fellow. Outside of work, he tended a garden and created homemade beers. When he found out I could, on my computer, print large, very nice looking labels on sticky paper, I became the exclusive producer of labels for the brews he concocted at that point.
Now, one of the duties for students who worked in the library was to write brief reviews of books sent in by publishers. These reviews were published once a month.
Cliff, our librarian, had one dictum— one dictum— about how to judge a book before we read it. “You can,” he intoned, “judge a book by its cover. If the cover says the author has a Ph.D. from Oxford or Yale or Berkeley, review the book.”
“If, on the other hand, the cover tells you the author is a retired car salesman from Saint Louis who spent ten years doing research on the Bible, don’t bother. These go to the circular file. They should not be on the library shelves of this Seminary.”
Indeed, you would be amazed at how many books on religion and Scripture exist out there written by people with little or no formal training. Well, given that I wrote reviews, I once wrote a review of a book by a Jesuit with a Ph.D. in theology. Fellow seemed qualified.
The claim made by this book, by this scholar, was simple. There is no church in existence today as radical as the church we find in the New Testament. Let me repeat that: there is no church in existence today as radical as the church we find in the New Testament. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Gospel According to the School of John: “Rabbi, said Philip, ‘show us Abba, God, and that will be enough for us.’” (Slight pause.)
I need to offer a confession. I do not remember the name or the author of the book I just referenced. But that’s not unusual. Why is that not unusual?
That the church we find in the New Testament is more radical than any church in existence today is a fairly common claim among real scholars. That the church of the New Testament was not radical is, however, a claim you are likely to find coming from the pens of those who have spent their entire career selling cars and then write a book about the Bible.
I want to suggest this radical church of New Testament is exactly the place to which the reading from John points. You see, in response to Philip Jesus says (quote), “Whoever has seen me has seen Abba, God.” One way that response can be perceived is to understand that in Jesus we see an expectation of the Dominion, a foretaste of the Dominion of God.
That begs two questions: “what is the Dominion of God” and “what does the dominion of God look like?” In older translations the Dominion of God is called the Kingdom of God.
Even though the word King is in the word Kingdom and that sounds like it’s oriented toward the masculine, the fact that we should translate Kingdom as Dominion has nothing to do with being gender neutral or gender inclusive. The word Kingdom implies a territory, limits and a limited ruler. One might argue Dominion implies the same. I would argue it’s still a better word to use.
I would argue that because both Kingdom and Dominion are translations of one Greek word: bascillia. Bascillia is the word from which we get basilica. Basilicas are destinations of pilgrimages. A pilgrimage— on the road one travels or at the destination— a pilgrimage is a journey or a place where we encounter God. Hence, a Dominion is a place where we encounter God
That leads to the next question: if the Dominion of God is a journey or a place where we encounter God, what does that encounter, what does that Dominion look like? The answer is look at Jesus.
Jesus is a radically new, radically different way of understanding existence and a radically new, radically different way of understanding God. And the Dominion of God calls us to a radically new, radically different understanding of existence. The Dominion of God calls us to a radically new, radically different understanding of God
Further, the Dominion is not just a place or a way of encountering God occasionally. The Dominion of God is a place where God is encountered all the time and a way God is encountered all the time. So what does this Dominion look like?
The Dominion of God is a place where healing takes place all the time. The Dominion of God is a place where each person is made whole all the time. The Dominion of God is a place where the needs of all people are taken care of all the time. The Dominion of God is a place where we reach out to help one another all the time.
The Dominion of God is a place where there is no name calling, ever. The Dominion of God is a place where there are no barriers, no walls, no impediments between people, ever. The Dominion of God is a place where people respect one another no matter what differences might exist. (Slight pause.)
As you already know, we have the Boy Scouts with us today. It’s Scout Sunday. Last Thursday I offered the Invocation at the Citizen of the Year Boy Scout Dinner. In so doing I appropriated a part of the Scout Law and the Scout Motto. This is in part what I said, this is what I said in that section of the prayer.
(Quote:) “We pray that we may all learn to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, reverent and have the courage to stay prepared to receive Your grace.” (Slight pause.)
You see, what is radical about the Dominion of God is that we are called to a wholeness. We are not called to be tribes. We are not called to be separate.
So, perhaps the hardest part of the words I used from the Scout Law and Motto is that we need to have the courage to stay prepared to receive the grace of God. And God calls us— all of us— to be people of God, reaching out to each other and helping each other in any way we can. And that’s hard.
Given that, the challenge of Pentecost is clear to me. Can we live up to the task that God lays out before us? Can we live up to the task of making this world a place where the Dominion of God is felt?
Can we live up to the task of making this world a place where the Dominion of God is lived out? My experience is such a world, a world where the Dominion of God is lived out, would be a radical place.
A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where no one is homeless. A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where healthcare is available to everyone.
A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where access to education is a given. A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where no one went hungry.
That all these things are rights, human rights, not privileges— that housing, healthcare, education, food— that these are seen as human rights and not as privileges— because if you pay for them they’re privileges— if all these are seen as human rights not privileges your listening to a radical idea. And this wholeness, this completeness, this integrity, this unity, this harmony, this oneness, this identity is nothing more than the picture of the Dominion of God which can be seen in Jesus.
So, indeed, we all need to pray for the courage to stay prepared to receive the grace of God. And the grace of God will, in fact, lead us toward the radical Dominion of God. Amen.
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: “Here is another way to conceptualize the message of the presence of the Holy Spirit: Play nice! Play with each other! Play together as one! Don’t break out into tribes! Tribalism— a different word for Nationalism— tribalism was not only the cause of two world wars. Tribalism is the cause of many small wars all over all the time. See us as God sees us: we are one people.”
BENEDICTION: The love of God is abundant and steadfast. When we give God’s love away, it returns in breathtaking abundance. Let us willingly participate in the grace God offers. May we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much. May we be in awe of God enough, that we need be in awe of nothing and no one else. And may the Word of God be on our tongues, the wisdom of God be with our thinking and the love of God be present in our hearts. Amen.
The Radical Dominion
“Rabbi, said Philip, ‘show us Abba, God, and that will be enough for us.’” — John 14:8.
I am what in some quarters is called a late bloomer. As many of you know, I did not enter Seminary until I was 44 years old. What that means is, having entered Seminary at that age, I was suddenly being treated as if I was an 18 year old just entering college. At least that’s the way the banks looked at me.
Many here might be familiar with the interaction between banks and students because you are either about to enter into some advanced schooling or have gone through it recently yourself or watched your children or grandchildren go thought it. The short version of this is, at age 44, I had to sign all kinds of paper work just to get student loans.
And, at age 44, there was no expectation that parents might countersign for my loans. It was all on me.
Hence, Bangor Seminary tried to help starving seminarians by employing as many as possible with so called “student jobs.” This did not do enough to defray the cost of the education but at least it provided a little income, since most students had moved to Bangor without any prospect of employment. And one does have to eat on occasion.
My last job before I landed in Seminary had been as a library aide at a Public High School. So, when I was offered a “student job” as a library aide at Bangor Seminary it seemed a perfect fit.
For me, it certainly was. I became a better student because I needed to help others. I needed to know where all the research material was and I needed to become familiar with the entire collection of books. (Slight pause.)
The librarian, the Rev. Cliff Davis, was a fascinating fellow. Outside of work, he tended a garden and created homemade beers. When he found out I could, on my computer, print large, very nice looking labels on sticky paper, I became the exclusive producer of labels for the brews he concocted at that point.
Now, one of the duties for students who worked in the library was to write brief reviews of books sent in by publishers. These reviews were published once a month.
Cliff, our librarian, had one dictum— one dictum— about how to judge a book before we read it. “You can,” he intoned, “judge a book by its cover. If the cover says the author has a Ph.D. from Oxford or Yale or Berkeley, review the book.”
“If, on the other hand, the cover tells you the author is a retired car salesman from Saint Louis who spent ten years doing research on the Bible, don’t bother. These go to the circular file. They should not be on the library shelves of this Seminary.”
Indeed, you would be amazed at how many books on religion and Scripture exist out there written by people with little or no formal training. Well, given that I wrote reviews, I once wrote a review of a book by a Jesuit with a Ph.D. in theology. Fellow seemed qualified.
The claim made by this book, by this scholar, was simple. There is no church in existence today as radical as the church we find in the New Testament. Let me repeat that: there is no church in existence today as radical as the church we find in the New Testament. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Gospel According to the School of John: “Rabbi, said Philip, ‘show us Abba, God, and that will be enough for us.’” (Slight pause.)
I need to offer a confession. I do not remember the name or the author of the book I just referenced. But that’s not unusual. Why is that not unusual?
That the church we find in the New Testament is more radical than any church in existence today is a fairly common claim among real scholars. That the church of the New Testament was not radical is, however, a claim you are likely to find coming from the pens of those who have spent their entire career selling cars and then write a book about the Bible.
I want to suggest this radical church of New Testament is exactly the place to which the reading from John points. You see, in response to Philip Jesus says (quote), “Whoever has seen me has seen Abba, God.” One way that response can be perceived is to understand that in Jesus we see an expectation of the Dominion, a foretaste of the Dominion of God.
That begs two questions: “what is the Dominion of God” and “what does the dominion of God look like?” In older translations the Dominion of God is called the Kingdom of God.
Even though the word King is in the word Kingdom and that sounds like it’s oriented toward the masculine, the fact that we should translate Kingdom as Dominion has nothing to do with being gender neutral or gender inclusive. The word Kingdom implies a territory, limits and a limited ruler. One might argue Dominion implies the same. I would argue it’s still a better word to use.
I would argue that because both Kingdom and Dominion are translations of one Greek word: bascillia. Bascillia is the word from which we get basilica. Basilicas are destinations of pilgrimages. A pilgrimage— on the road one travels or at the destination— a pilgrimage is a journey or a place where we encounter God. Hence, a Dominion is a place where we encounter God
That leads to the next question: if the Dominion of God is a journey or a place where we encounter God, what does that encounter, what does that Dominion look like? The answer is look at Jesus.
Jesus is a radically new, radically different way of understanding existence and a radically new, radically different way of understanding God. And the Dominion of God calls us to a radically new, radically different understanding of existence. The Dominion of God calls us to a radically new, radically different understanding of God
Further, the Dominion is not just a place or a way of encountering God occasionally. The Dominion of God is a place where God is encountered all the time and a way God is encountered all the time. So what does this Dominion look like?
The Dominion of God is a place where healing takes place all the time. The Dominion of God is a place where each person is made whole all the time. The Dominion of God is a place where the needs of all people are taken care of all the time. The Dominion of God is a place where we reach out to help one another all the time.
The Dominion of God is a place where there is no name calling, ever. The Dominion of God is a place where there are no barriers, no walls, no impediments between people, ever. The Dominion of God is a place where people respect one another no matter what differences might exist. (Slight pause.)
As you already know, we have the Boy Scouts with us today. It’s Scout Sunday. Last Thursday I offered the Invocation at the Citizen of the Year Boy Scout Dinner. In so doing I appropriated a part of the Scout Law and the Scout Motto. This is in part what I said, this is what I said in that section of the prayer.
(Quote:) “We pray that we may all learn to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, reverent and have the courage to stay prepared to receive Your grace.” (Slight pause.)
You see, what is radical about the Dominion of God is that we are called to a wholeness. We are not called to be tribes. We are not called to be separate.
So, perhaps the hardest part of the words I used from the Scout Law and Motto is that we need to have the courage to stay prepared to receive the grace of God. And God calls us— all of us— to be people of God, reaching out to each other and helping each other in any way we can. And that’s hard.
Given that, the challenge of Pentecost is clear to me. Can we live up to the task that God lays out before us? Can we live up to the task of making this world a place where the Dominion of God is felt?
Can we live up to the task of making this world a place where the Dominion of God is lived out? My experience is such a world, a world where the Dominion of God is lived out, would be a radical place.
A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where no one is homeless. A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where healthcare is available to everyone.
A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where access to education is a given. A world where the Dominion of God is lived out would be a place where no one went hungry.
That all these things are rights, human rights, not privileges— that housing, healthcare, education, food— that these are seen as human rights and not as privileges— because if you pay for them they’re privileges— if all these are seen as human rights not privileges your listening to a radical idea. And this wholeness, this completeness, this integrity, this unity, this harmony, this oneness, this identity is nothing more than the picture of the Dominion of God which can be seen in Jesus.
So, indeed, we all need to pray for the courage to stay prepared to receive the grace of God. And the grace of God will, in fact, lead us toward the radical Dominion of God. Amen.
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: “Here is another way to conceptualize the message of the presence of the Holy Spirit: Play nice! Play with each other! Play together as one! Don’t break out into tribes! Tribalism— a different word for Nationalism— tribalism was not only the cause of two world wars. Tribalism is the cause of many small wars all over all the time. See us as God sees us: we are one people.”
BENEDICTION: The love of God is abundant and steadfast. When we give God’s love away, it returns in breathtaking abundance. Let us willingly participate in the grace God offers. May we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much. May we be in awe of God enough, that we need be in awe of nothing and no one else. And may the Word of God be on our tongues, the wisdom of God be with our thinking and the love of God be present in our hearts. Amen.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
SERMON ~ 05/08/5016 ~ “Resurrection/Ascension”
05/08/5016 ~ Seventh Sunday of Easter and the Last Sunday of Eastertide ~ Celebrated in Some Traditions as the Sunday Closest to the Ascension ~ (If Ascension not observed here) ~ * Acts 16:16-34; Psalm 97; Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21; John 17:20-26 ~ * During Eastertide a reading from Acts is often substituted for the lesson from the Hebrew Bible ~ Often Celebrated as the Festival of the Christian Home on the Church Calendar ~ Mother’s Day in the Secular Calendar. NOTE: 05/08/2016 ~ Ascension readings are: Acts 1:1-11; Psalm 47 or Psalm 93; Ephesians 1:15-23; Luke 24:44-53.
Resurrection/Ascension
“While blessing them, the Savior withdrew from them and was carried to heaven. And the disciples worshiped the risen Christ and returned to Jerusalem filled with great joy.” — Luke 24:51-52.
Have you ever gone someplace that you know that you had never been before and yet you feel like you are right at home? Have you, even though you know you had never been at that place, felt like— in some frame of reference, in some time/space continuum that defies mere logic, someplace that logic on its own cannot describe— have you felt like you, in fact, had been in that very place at some point?
I admit I have felt that way a number of times. Let me offer two examples which stand out in my memory, tow personal memories. I entered Bangor Theological Seminary in January of 1992. The first official function I attended was, therefore, January Convocation, just before the start of Spring Term classes.
At that Convocation the first preacher I heard from the pulpit in the chapel at the Seminary was the Rev. Dr. Avery Post. As you may know, Post was the pastor here in Norwich from 1952 to 1957.
I cannot tell you with any stretch of my memory what Avery said. I can tell you I felt comfortable. It was like I was sitting there listening to a friend and that friend was inviting me to come home. Little did I know four and a half years later I would follow in the footsteps of Dr. Post and come here to Norwich.
But the fact that the preaching of Dr. Post was exquisite or I wound up here is a side note. More to my point is my level of comfort. To me it felt like that place, that space in the chapel, that atmosphere was quite familiar.
It was strange— I knew it had all never happened before but it felt like it had all happened before. What’s more, it felt like I knew all of it, the place, the space, that time, on an intimate level. It felt like I was reacquainting myself with a piece of myself that I had lost and now had found. (Slight pause.)
A second example rom my personal history. I have often regaled you with stories, either publically or privately regaled you with stories, of how Bonnie and I met on an island off the coast of Maine. And yes, that week the Maine fog set in and we, along with about 25 other people, were stuck on the island for a couple of days. The rest is history— or at least our history— and I’ve told you about that.
But what I have not often said is the year we met was not my first time on the island. I first set foot on that island two years before Bonnie and I met. Further, that first time I was on the island— and I cannot explain why this is true— the rocks, the dock, the vista from the shore, the cabins— all felt familiar.
To be clear: not only had I never been on that island. I had never set foot in the State of Maine before. I was a city kid. Maine was not exactly a part of my vocabulary.
However and similar to my Bangor Seminary experience, to me the island felt like I, in some frame of reference or in some time/space continuum that defies mere logic, had been there before. The sense of that place, that space was quite familiar to me.
What’s more, it felt like I knew that place, all of it, on an intimate level. It felt like I was reacquainting myself with a piece of myself I had lost and now had found. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in Luke/Acts in the section of that work commonly called the Gospel of Luke: “While blessing them, the Savior withdrew from them and was carried to heaven. And the disciples worshiped the risen Christ and returned to Jerusalem filled with great joy.” (Slight pause.)
Earlier, before the reading from the Gospel, we heard those words from the Gospel introduced this way (quote:) “The work known as Luke and the work known as Acts are two volumes of the same work by the same author written at the same time. Hence, it’s clear the same author writing at the same time gives two different versions of what is commonly called the Ascension.” (Slight pause.)
This should, indeed, be evident even to a casual listener or reader: the stories are similar but they are not the same. That leads us to an obvious question: why? Why would this work— and scholars insist these two books of Scripture come from the same source, written at the same time— why would these works offer two versions of the same incident? (Slight pause.)
Well, let’s back track a little and ask a different question, two in fact. First, ‘what is Resurrection?’ And, having asked that question, the companion question needs to be asked: ‘what is Ascension?’ (Slight pause.)
Every Easter Sunday I invariable say these words (quote): “It needs to be noted Resurrection is not reanimation nor is it resuscitation. That has never been a Christian belief. Resurrection is what it says it is: Resurrection.”
A similar statement can be made for Ascension: Ascension is not a movement to a place, a location on a map. A G.P.S. will not take you to a destination called Ascension. That Ascension means a movement from one location to another location has never been a Christian belief. Ascension is what it says it is: Ascension.
Equally, Ascension does not indicate the reality of the Risen Christ is diminished, that Christ is no longer alive, that Christ is no longer with us, that Christ fails to be present to us here, now. This brings us back to the obvious question the two readings present: “why would this work, Luke/Acts, offer two versions of the same incident?” (Slight pause.)
I think one of the ways we often fail in our reading and our understanding of Scripture is we tend to think the writers were stupid. We insist they were so stupid that they could see things only through a literal lens. Because we get these two stories with different details from the same source, clearly there is no intent on the part of Luke and Acts to depict the Resurrection or the Ascension by using a literal form.
You see, if we take the reports we find in Scripture of the Crucifixion as realistic and disturbing (and we probably should), then the reports we find in Scripture of the Resurrection and the Ascension insist we must take them as metaphysical and disturbing. You can’t have one without the other.
To be blunt, for me there does seem to be an insistence by what we find in Luke and in Acts about the Resurrection and the Ascension that the report not simply metaphysical and, therefore, is only abstract, not tangible. To take these words as only abstract would be to inject a possibility into the meaning that the Resurrection and the Ascension totally lacks any kind of reality.
So yes, I think the words we find in Scripture are meant to be seen as and to describe a conjunction of time, place, and space— a continuum. And I also see these words as a revelation about the intense love God has for humanity. I also see these words as a revelation about the intense longing for God that humanity has— an existential longing or God. And all of these sentiments are real, tangible.
I think this is an important point: we must not see the great revelation of God in Jesus as simply being about an event as if it is a big, important ball game. Oh well, you’re looking forward to the Super Bowl here. How about the World Series? No! That’s not what it’s about.
When we do that, when we take that read on Scripture— we relegate the God events which happen in the life of humanity and in our own lives to simply having a beginning and having an end. To do so limits the possibility of an eternal God.
Indeed, the Resurrection and the Ascension are not about a beginning and an ending. The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who is with us now. The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who lives.
The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who acts in our lives. The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who is real. (Slight pause.)
And yes, I believe there are God moments in our lives. Sometimes God moments happen when we find ourselves in a place we’ve never been before but a place we somehow already know in an intimate way.
And yes, sometimes God moments happen with the death of a loved one. And yes, sometimes God moments happen with the birth of a child. The situations are numerous. God moments do happen.
And often God moments are not about the specific beginnings and endings we experience at specific times. God moments are about the presence of God in our lives, the presence of God in our lives now and the presence of God forever. The Resurrection, the Ascension are about the presence of God in our lives forever and for now. Amen.
05/08/2016
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: “Huston Smith, now 96 years old, is a religious studies scholar. A book he wrote, The World’s Religions, which has sold over 2 million copies, is mandatory reading for seminarians and probably should be for everyone. This is what Smith has said about the relationship of logic and religion: ‘Rationalism and Newtonian science has lured us into dark woods, but a new metaphysics can rescue us.’ Or as I like to say when we spake about God what we are addressing is theo-logic.”
BENEDICTION: We can find the presence of God in unexpected places. God’s light leads us to places we thought not possible just moments ago. God’s love abounds and will live with us throughout eternity. The grace of God is deeper than our imagination. The strength of Christ is stronger than our needs. The communion of the Holy Spirit is richer than our togetherness. May the One Triune God sustain us today and throughout the infinity of what is commonly called tomorrow. Amen.
Resurrection/Ascension
“While blessing them, the Savior withdrew from them and was carried to heaven. And the disciples worshiped the risen Christ and returned to Jerusalem filled with great joy.” — Luke 24:51-52.
Have you ever gone someplace that you know that you had never been before and yet you feel like you are right at home? Have you, even though you know you had never been at that place, felt like— in some frame of reference, in some time/space continuum that defies mere logic, someplace that logic on its own cannot describe— have you felt like you, in fact, had been in that very place at some point?
I admit I have felt that way a number of times. Let me offer two examples which stand out in my memory, tow personal memories. I entered Bangor Theological Seminary in January of 1992. The first official function I attended was, therefore, January Convocation, just before the start of Spring Term classes.
At that Convocation the first preacher I heard from the pulpit in the chapel at the Seminary was the Rev. Dr. Avery Post. As you may know, Post was the pastor here in Norwich from 1952 to 1957.
I cannot tell you with any stretch of my memory what Avery said. I can tell you I felt comfortable. It was like I was sitting there listening to a friend and that friend was inviting me to come home. Little did I know four and a half years later I would follow in the footsteps of Dr. Post and come here to Norwich.
But the fact that the preaching of Dr. Post was exquisite or I wound up here is a side note. More to my point is my level of comfort. To me it felt like that place, that space in the chapel, that atmosphere was quite familiar.
It was strange— I knew it had all never happened before but it felt like it had all happened before. What’s more, it felt like I knew all of it, the place, the space, that time, on an intimate level. It felt like I was reacquainting myself with a piece of myself that I had lost and now had found. (Slight pause.)
A second example rom my personal history. I have often regaled you with stories, either publically or privately regaled you with stories, of how Bonnie and I met on an island off the coast of Maine. And yes, that week the Maine fog set in and we, along with about 25 other people, were stuck on the island for a couple of days. The rest is history— or at least our history— and I’ve told you about that.
But what I have not often said is the year we met was not my first time on the island. I first set foot on that island two years before Bonnie and I met. Further, that first time I was on the island— and I cannot explain why this is true— the rocks, the dock, the vista from the shore, the cabins— all felt familiar.
To be clear: not only had I never been on that island. I had never set foot in the State of Maine before. I was a city kid. Maine was not exactly a part of my vocabulary.
However and similar to my Bangor Seminary experience, to me the island felt like I, in some frame of reference or in some time/space continuum that defies mere logic, had been there before. The sense of that place, that space was quite familiar to me.
What’s more, it felt like I knew that place, all of it, on an intimate level. It felt like I was reacquainting myself with a piece of myself I had lost and now had found. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in Luke/Acts in the section of that work commonly called the Gospel of Luke: “While blessing them, the Savior withdrew from them and was carried to heaven. And the disciples worshiped the risen Christ and returned to Jerusalem filled with great joy.” (Slight pause.)
Earlier, before the reading from the Gospel, we heard those words from the Gospel introduced this way (quote:) “The work known as Luke and the work known as Acts are two volumes of the same work by the same author written at the same time. Hence, it’s clear the same author writing at the same time gives two different versions of what is commonly called the Ascension.” (Slight pause.)
This should, indeed, be evident even to a casual listener or reader: the stories are similar but they are not the same. That leads us to an obvious question: why? Why would this work— and scholars insist these two books of Scripture come from the same source, written at the same time— why would these works offer two versions of the same incident? (Slight pause.)
Well, let’s back track a little and ask a different question, two in fact. First, ‘what is Resurrection?’ And, having asked that question, the companion question needs to be asked: ‘what is Ascension?’ (Slight pause.)
Every Easter Sunday I invariable say these words (quote): “It needs to be noted Resurrection is not reanimation nor is it resuscitation. That has never been a Christian belief. Resurrection is what it says it is: Resurrection.”
A similar statement can be made for Ascension: Ascension is not a movement to a place, a location on a map. A G.P.S. will not take you to a destination called Ascension. That Ascension means a movement from one location to another location has never been a Christian belief. Ascension is what it says it is: Ascension.
Equally, Ascension does not indicate the reality of the Risen Christ is diminished, that Christ is no longer alive, that Christ is no longer with us, that Christ fails to be present to us here, now. This brings us back to the obvious question the two readings present: “why would this work, Luke/Acts, offer two versions of the same incident?” (Slight pause.)
I think one of the ways we often fail in our reading and our understanding of Scripture is we tend to think the writers were stupid. We insist they were so stupid that they could see things only through a literal lens. Because we get these two stories with different details from the same source, clearly there is no intent on the part of Luke and Acts to depict the Resurrection or the Ascension by using a literal form.
You see, if we take the reports we find in Scripture of the Crucifixion as realistic and disturbing (and we probably should), then the reports we find in Scripture of the Resurrection and the Ascension insist we must take them as metaphysical and disturbing. You can’t have one without the other.
To be blunt, for me there does seem to be an insistence by what we find in Luke and in Acts about the Resurrection and the Ascension that the report not simply metaphysical and, therefore, is only abstract, not tangible. To take these words as only abstract would be to inject a possibility into the meaning that the Resurrection and the Ascension totally lacks any kind of reality.
So yes, I think the words we find in Scripture are meant to be seen as and to describe a conjunction of time, place, and space— a continuum. And I also see these words as a revelation about the intense love God has for humanity. I also see these words as a revelation about the intense longing for God that humanity has— an existential longing or God. And all of these sentiments are real, tangible.
I think this is an important point: we must not see the great revelation of God in Jesus as simply being about an event as if it is a big, important ball game. Oh well, you’re looking forward to the Super Bowl here. How about the World Series? No! That’s not what it’s about.
When we do that, when we take that read on Scripture— we relegate the God events which happen in the life of humanity and in our own lives to simply having a beginning and having an end. To do so limits the possibility of an eternal God.
Indeed, the Resurrection and the Ascension are not about a beginning and an ending. The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who is with us now. The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who lives.
The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who acts in our lives. The Resurrection and the Ascension are about God Who loves and about God Who is real. (Slight pause.)
And yes, I believe there are God moments in our lives. Sometimes God moments happen when we find ourselves in a place we’ve never been before but a place we somehow already know in an intimate way.
And yes, sometimes God moments happen with the death of a loved one. And yes, sometimes God moments happen with the birth of a child. The situations are numerous. God moments do happen.
And often God moments are not about the specific beginnings and endings we experience at specific times. God moments are about the presence of God in our lives, the presence of God in our lives now and the presence of God forever. The Resurrection, the Ascension are about the presence of God in our lives forever and for now. Amen.
05/08/2016
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: “Huston Smith, now 96 years old, is a religious studies scholar. A book he wrote, The World’s Religions, which has sold over 2 million copies, is mandatory reading for seminarians and probably should be for everyone. This is what Smith has said about the relationship of logic and religion: ‘Rationalism and Newtonian science has lured us into dark woods, but a new metaphysics can rescue us.’ Or as I like to say when we spake about God what we are addressing is theo-logic.”
BENEDICTION: We can find the presence of God in unexpected places. God’s light leads us to places we thought not possible just moments ago. God’s love abounds and will live with us throughout eternity. The grace of God is deeper than our imagination. The strength of Christ is stronger than our needs. The communion of the Holy Spirit is richer than our togetherness. May the One Triune God sustain us today and throughout the infinity of what is commonly called tomorrow. Amen.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
SERMON ~ 05/01/2016 ~ “Pentecost Daily”
05/01/2016 ~ Sixth Sunday of Easter ~ *Acts 16:9-15; Psalm 67; Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5; John 14:23-29 or John 5:1-9 ~ Communion Sunday ~ * During Eastertide a reading from Acts is often substituted for the lesson from the Hebrew Bible.
Pentecost Daily
“...the Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, / whom Abba, God, will send in my name, / will teach you, instruct you in everything; / and She will remind you of all that I have said to you.” — John 14:26.
I need to start with an apology. I apologize because I know some of you will find my comments today totally and incredibly boring.
Why? I want to address church structure. (Now that I’ve named where I am going with this I think I can already hear the snoring commence.)
I’m going there in part because I stumbled across an article written by a Baptist, Jeffery Brumley, which led me to thinking about church structure. The article had a provocative title. Can Congregational Polity Weather Cultural Challenges? [1]
Why such a title? Well, said Brumley, we live in an era when we are fond of claiming we like democracy, an era when we all want to get our own say. But democracy has a trade off.
Yes, democracy is defined as one member, one vote. But in a democracy that one vote counts only insofar as the voter is also willing to participate in the work that vote supports. (And we won’t even go to what that means in civil life. But it means something.)
In a true democracy authority is not passed off to someone else or to a committee. Each person needs both to claim authority by voting and to exercise authority through action, involvement. That’s the way a true democracy works.
The article pointed out while we live in a era that claims to like democracy, the exercise of direct power, we also live in an era when a lot of people are fond of letting others execute decisions and thereby we avoid direct involvement.
That having been said— now here’s the really boring part— this is my explanation of the three basic patterns of church structure. There are three prime forms— Episcopal, Congregational and Presbyterian.
To be clear, the explanations of each one I am about to offer are the simple, short definitions. But they are adequate. Which is also to say I could do at least a half hour on each of these and then you would be really bored.
Episcopal church structure is any church with Bishops or with a well defined hierarchy. The hierarchy, the ruling group, is in charge in these churches. They make decisions and a decision can mean one size fits all.
Congregational structure, on the other hand and on paper at least, is a clear cut form of straightforward democracy. Further, there is no denominational hierarchy, no Bishops. No one can give an order to the local church in a Congregational structure about anything. And yes, we fall into that category.
Presbyterian structure is perhaps the most complex. Local churches elect representatives to a regional body. These, in turn, elect representatives to a larger region which, in turn, elects representatives to a national body.
In a Presbyterian structure, the national body rather than individuals such as Bishops can tell the local churches what to do. Therefore through this process, local autonomy is surrendered to the national committee structure.
I believe Congregational form, Congregational structure, is ideally suited to enable a congregation to be who we really are together, to be where we are, together. Hence, the Spirit can work so that each church is an expression of its own context and is flexible to minister in its own context. Perhaps more to the point, with Congregational structure each member can be empowered by the Spirit to be an expression of their own context and flexible to minister in their own context.
I am sure for some that description of Congregational government sounds like shear chaos, anarchy— everyone does their own thing. To me that sounds like shared authority and shared responsibility.
I also need to emphasize I believe the Spirit can and will work in all the structures I’ve just described. But, needless to say, I also believe the Spirit can be most effective in a Congregational structure. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work we know as the Gospel According to the School of John: “...the Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, / whom Abba, God, will send in my name, / will teach you, instruct you in everything; / and She will remind you of all that I have said to you.” (Slight pause.)
All this brings us to an interesting place, an interesting question. What is the Spirit about? (Slight pause.)
Poet and pastor Maren Tirabassi has written a poem which illuminates what listening to the language of the Spirit might be like. I want to recite part of it. The title is Pneuma-lingual— the language of the Spirit. (Slight pause.)
“I used to teach ESL – / English as a Second Language. / So on Pentecost every year / I pray for SSL / for myself and for the church I love— / Spirit as a Second Language— SSL.”
“Pentecost – / Spirit for Speakers of Other Languages— / the day when everyone heard / the words they knew.”
“So Pentecost us now, O God, / let us learn / to conjugate the Spirit, / shed the comfortable accents / of churchy insider talk, / fit our mouths to something strange— mostly verbs, / present tense, active voice / not many possessive pronouns” — the words of Maren Tirabassi. [2] (Slight pause.)
Jesus says the Spirit will teach us, instruct us, remind us. So, what is the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, reminding us about lately? What is the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, reminding you about lately? (Slight pause.) Here’s what I can guarantee: whatever the Holy Spirit is saying to each of us and to all of us, it’s not about church structure.
At its best church structure is, pardon the expression, a necessary evil. Indeed, to the extent that the church— all church— is a human institution, structure is essential.
But structure is human language. We need to listen for and to hear the language of the Spirit. We need to listen for and to a spiritual language. I would, in fact, suggest listening to the Holy Spirit is like, as Tirabassi implies, learning a second language. (Slight pause.)
I’ve said this before. In part because we tend to look at Scripture as a narrative, we envision the stories presented as happening in the past rather than happening to us today. So, our proclivity is to see the Resurrection of Jesus and the Pentecost event, the Holy Spirit visiting the church, as happening in the past.
But, as Tirabassi also says, we need to be aware that the Spirit can indeed (quote:) “Pentecost us now!” We need to hear the Holy Spirit, the language of the Spirit today, now. We need to be aware that today, now, the Holy Spirit is alive and with us, present.
And today, now, Pentecost does happen daily, when we listen. We can have a daily Pentecost when we attune ourselves to the language of the Spirit.
And what does the Spirit say? I firmly believe the Spirit says seek the peace God wants, now. I firmly believe the says Spirit seek freedom and equality for all, now. I firmly believe the Spirit empowers each of us to be kind, thoughtful, caring, now.
All of which is to say we need to be attuned to the Word and the work of the Spirit among us today, now. How does that happen? Well, yes— occasionally— our frail, human church structure might help, despite its own self. But more to the point, we need to listen for the Word of the Spirit in one another— listen for the Word of the Spirit in one another— and to act upon that Word.
Indeed, what is really central to Congregational polity, Congregational structure is listening for the Word of God we hear from one another acting on the Word of God we hear from one another. And so we need to listen to one another and learn from one another. Why is that? Well let me be parochial. As Congregationalists our firm belief is the Spirit speaks to each of us and to all of us, daily, now. Our firm belief is the Spirit is active in each of us and all of us, daily, now.
And we also believe Spirit forms us to be a community, speaks to all of us as a community, now. After all, when Jesus said this (quote:) “...the Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, / whom Abba, God, will send in my name, / will teach you, instruct you in everything; / and She will remind you of all that I have said to you.” When the Risen Christ was speaking to all the disciples and saying this, the truth is it was not and is not in past tense. The Risen Christ was saying is saying this to us to us even today, now. Amen.
05/01/2016
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: “A week ago Bonnie and I attended the Susquehanna Association Meeting— speaking of Congregational polity. Our former parishioner, who many of you know and who now lives in Homer, her childhood home and attends the Homer United Church of Christ— Lynn Olcott was there. She sent us an e-mail which says in part: ‘It was fun to see you and it got me thinking about when I was a kid in the U.U. church— that’s Unitarian Universalist— I got the impression of a huge, inclusive, present God but as an adult it seemed to me the U.U. message had changed to one of the high-minded absence of God. And that must be how I have found my way to the U.C.C. sanctuaries.’ I do need to add I think we here strive to see God as present, with us now. It’s a mark of this church.”
BENEDICTION: We can find the presence of God in unexpected places. God’s light leads us to places we thought not possible just moments ago. God’s love abounds and will live with us throughout eternity. The grace of God is deeper than our imagination. The strength of Christ is stronger than our needs. The communion of the Holy Spirit is richer than our togetherness. May the One Triune God sustain us today and throughout the infinity of what is commonly called tomorrow. Amen.
[1]
https://baptistnews.com/2016/04/14/baptist-leaders-wonder-can-congregational-polity-weather-cultural-challenges/
[2] This poem was slightly altered for this context— two stanzas were removed. It was posted on Maren Tirabassi Facebook page. It is, hence and by definition, public.
Pentecost Daily
“...the Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, / whom Abba, God, will send in my name, / will teach you, instruct you in everything; / and She will remind you of all that I have said to you.” — John 14:26.
I need to start with an apology. I apologize because I know some of you will find my comments today totally and incredibly boring.
Why? I want to address church structure. (Now that I’ve named where I am going with this I think I can already hear the snoring commence.)
I’m going there in part because I stumbled across an article written by a Baptist, Jeffery Brumley, which led me to thinking about church structure. The article had a provocative title. Can Congregational Polity Weather Cultural Challenges? [1]
Why such a title? Well, said Brumley, we live in an era when we are fond of claiming we like democracy, an era when we all want to get our own say. But democracy has a trade off.
Yes, democracy is defined as one member, one vote. But in a democracy that one vote counts only insofar as the voter is also willing to participate in the work that vote supports. (And we won’t even go to what that means in civil life. But it means something.)
In a true democracy authority is not passed off to someone else or to a committee. Each person needs both to claim authority by voting and to exercise authority through action, involvement. That’s the way a true democracy works.
The article pointed out while we live in a era that claims to like democracy, the exercise of direct power, we also live in an era when a lot of people are fond of letting others execute decisions and thereby we avoid direct involvement.
That having been said— now here’s the really boring part— this is my explanation of the three basic patterns of church structure. There are three prime forms— Episcopal, Congregational and Presbyterian.
To be clear, the explanations of each one I am about to offer are the simple, short definitions. But they are adequate. Which is also to say I could do at least a half hour on each of these and then you would be really bored.
Episcopal church structure is any church with Bishops or with a well defined hierarchy. The hierarchy, the ruling group, is in charge in these churches. They make decisions and a decision can mean one size fits all.
Congregational structure, on the other hand and on paper at least, is a clear cut form of straightforward democracy. Further, there is no denominational hierarchy, no Bishops. No one can give an order to the local church in a Congregational structure about anything. And yes, we fall into that category.
Presbyterian structure is perhaps the most complex. Local churches elect representatives to a regional body. These, in turn, elect representatives to a larger region which, in turn, elects representatives to a national body.
In a Presbyterian structure, the national body rather than individuals such as Bishops can tell the local churches what to do. Therefore through this process, local autonomy is surrendered to the national committee structure.
I believe Congregational form, Congregational structure, is ideally suited to enable a congregation to be who we really are together, to be where we are, together. Hence, the Spirit can work so that each church is an expression of its own context and is flexible to minister in its own context. Perhaps more to the point, with Congregational structure each member can be empowered by the Spirit to be an expression of their own context and flexible to minister in their own context.
I am sure for some that description of Congregational government sounds like shear chaos, anarchy— everyone does their own thing. To me that sounds like shared authority and shared responsibility.
I also need to emphasize I believe the Spirit can and will work in all the structures I’ve just described. But, needless to say, I also believe the Spirit can be most effective in a Congregational structure. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work we know as the Gospel According to the School of John: “...the Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, / whom Abba, God, will send in my name, / will teach you, instruct you in everything; / and She will remind you of all that I have said to you.” (Slight pause.)
All this brings us to an interesting place, an interesting question. What is the Spirit about? (Slight pause.)
Poet and pastor Maren Tirabassi has written a poem which illuminates what listening to the language of the Spirit might be like. I want to recite part of it. The title is Pneuma-lingual— the language of the Spirit. (Slight pause.)
“I used to teach ESL – / English as a Second Language. / So on Pentecost every year / I pray for SSL / for myself and for the church I love— / Spirit as a Second Language— SSL.”
“Pentecost – / Spirit for Speakers of Other Languages— / the day when everyone heard / the words they knew.”
“So Pentecost us now, O God, / let us learn / to conjugate the Spirit, / shed the comfortable accents / of churchy insider talk, / fit our mouths to something strange— mostly verbs, / present tense, active voice / not many possessive pronouns” — the words of Maren Tirabassi. [2] (Slight pause.)
Jesus says the Spirit will teach us, instruct us, remind us. So, what is the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, reminding us about lately? What is the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, reminding you about lately? (Slight pause.) Here’s what I can guarantee: whatever the Holy Spirit is saying to each of us and to all of us, it’s not about church structure.
At its best church structure is, pardon the expression, a necessary evil. Indeed, to the extent that the church— all church— is a human institution, structure is essential.
But structure is human language. We need to listen for and to hear the language of the Spirit. We need to listen for and to a spiritual language. I would, in fact, suggest listening to the Holy Spirit is like, as Tirabassi implies, learning a second language. (Slight pause.)
I’ve said this before. In part because we tend to look at Scripture as a narrative, we envision the stories presented as happening in the past rather than happening to us today. So, our proclivity is to see the Resurrection of Jesus and the Pentecost event, the Holy Spirit visiting the church, as happening in the past.
But, as Tirabassi also says, we need to be aware that the Spirit can indeed (quote:) “Pentecost us now!” We need to hear the Holy Spirit, the language of the Spirit today, now. We need to be aware that today, now, the Holy Spirit is alive and with us, present.
And today, now, Pentecost does happen daily, when we listen. We can have a daily Pentecost when we attune ourselves to the language of the Spirit.
And what does the Spirit say? I firmly believe the Spirit says seek the peace God wants, now. I firmly believe the says Spirit seek freedom and equality for all, now. I firmly believe the Spirit empowers each of us to be kind, thoughtful, caring, now.
All of which is to say we need to be attuned to the Word and the work of the Spirit among us today, now. How does that happen? Well, yes— occasionally— our frail, human church structure might help, despite its own self. But more to the point, we need to listen for the Word of the Spirit in one another— listen for the Word of the Spirit in one another— and to act upon that Word.
Indeed, what is really central to Congregational polity, Congregational structure is listening for the Word of God we hear from one another acting on the Word of God we hear from one another. And so we need to listen to one another and learn from one another. Why is that? Well let me be parochial. As Congregationalists our firm belief is the Spirit speaks to each of us and to all of us, daily, now. Our firm belief is the Spirit is active in each of us and all of us, daily, now.
And we also believe Spirit forms us to be a community, speaks to all of us as a community, now. After all, when Jesus said this (quote:) “...the Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, / whom Abba, God, will send in my name, / will teach you, instruct you in everything; / and She will remind you of all that I have said to you.” When the Risen Christ was speaking to all the disciples and saying this, the truth is it was not and is not in past tense. The Risen Christ was saying is saying this to us to us even today, now. Amen.
05/01/2016
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: “A week ago Bonnie and I attended the Susquehanna Association Meeting— speaking of Congregational polity. Our former parishioner, who many of you know and who now lives in Homer, her childhood home and attends the Homer United Church of Christ— Lynn Olcott was there. She sent us an e-mail which says in part: ‘It was fun to see you and it got me thinking about when I was a kid in the U.U. church— that’s Unitarian Universalist— I got the impression of a huge, inclusive, present God but as an adult it seemed to me the U.U. message had changed to one of the high-minded absence of God. And that must be how I have found my way to the U.C.C. sanctuaries.’ I do need to add I think we here strive to see God as present, with us now. It’s a mark of this church.”
BENEDICTION: We can find the presence of God in unexpected places. God’s light leads us to places we thought not possible just moments ago. God’s love abounds and will live with us throughout eternity. The grace of God is deeper than our imagination. The strength of Christ is stronger than our needs. The communion of the Holy Spirit is richer than our togetherness. May the One Triune God sustain us today and throughout the infinity of what is commonly called tomorrow. Amen.
[1]
https://baptistnews.com/2016/04/14/baptist-leaders-wonder-can-congregational-polity-weather-cultural-challenges/
[2] This poem was slightly altered for this context— two stanzas were removed. It was posted on Maren Tirabassi Facebook page. It is, hence and by definition, public.
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