02/25/2018 ~ Second Sunday in Lent ~ Genesis 17:1-7, 17, 19; Psalm 22:23-31; Romans 4:13-25; Mark 8:31-38 or Mark 9:2-9.
An Invitation to Change
“No longer shall your name be Avram or the exalted ancestor, but your name shall be Avraham or Hamon Goyyim. [And that is the Hebrew for the progenitor of a multitude of Nations.]” — Genesis 5a.
People often take the word myth to mean “a widely held but false belief or idea.” While that is one of the dictionary definitions it is not the first one listed.
The first definition says a myth is ‘a traditional story, especially one concerning the early history of a people or a story which explains some natural or social phenomenon.’ Put another way a myth uncovers deep truth, a reality which supersedes mere fact. This definition also says ‘a typically myth involves supernatural beings.’
Indeed and to elaborate, myths are written to give people a vision of their place in the world, help make sense of their existence. Myths give people a narrative in which and by which they can live their lives, help people understand their lives. That type of myth is often called a functional or establishing narrative.
Establishing narratives are not an outdated idea. Even today establishing narratives, establishing myths, influence people to see the world in a certain way.
For instance, Americans see the Revolutionary War as part of our establishing myth. We see that conflict as being about freedom, as well we should. However, we also need to be aware of the realities behind the myth.
For instance, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, both signers of the Declaration of Independence, were the two most wealthy people in America at that time. Someone named George Washington owned more land than anyone else, wealt in terms of land ownership.
Further, British bankers were constantly cutting off the credit lines of people in the colonies. So in part at least, the Revolution was about wealth and credit and debt. Which is to say in order to understand our own establishing myth, the American establishing myth, one needs to also understand the reality involved.
To be clear: the underlying facts I just recited do not in any way diminish that the establishing myth of America is about freedom. However, to ignore the underlying reality as if it did not exist is less than healthy.
I need to add something on a more individual level, something which effects all of us. I would suggest each of us maintains our own, personal, establishing myth or myths.
You have heard me many times address my growing up in the Roman Catholic tradition. You have heard me many times address the fact that in my early childhood I lived in what might be called a tough section of Brooklyn— in the vernacular a ghetto.
That is the reality, the fact. But the essence of my establishing myth, my deep truth, says I did not become trapped by the circumstances or the place from which I came.
Further, both fact and myth need to work together. Therefore, the reality, the facts of my story inform my establishing myth, inform the deeper truth found therein. And my establishing myth brings new light to the reality and enables me to see the underlying facts of where I have been in a helpful way.
I also believe fully understanding my myth empowers me to think about where I might go next, who I might become. I say it informs who I might become because I am convinced God is not yet finished shaping and reshaping me. I believe God beckons me to walk in new ways, in new light, in new hope. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Genesis: “No longer shall your name be Avram or the exalted ancestor, but your name shall be Avraham or Hamon Goyyim. [And that is the Hebrew for the progenitor of a multitude of Nations.]” (Slight pause.)
I earlier said a myth is a traditional story which explains some natural or social phenomenon and typically involves supernatural beings. In that sense, every last story in Genesis is a founding story, an establishing myth of the people of Israel. And again, the word myth does not mean the stories are false.
The label ‘myth’ means they convey deep truth, visceral truth, truth about reality, truth about the reality of feelings. For the Genesis stories it also means they convey truth about the reality of relationship, especially a relationship with God.
That brings me to the story of Avram, who becomes known as Avraham or Hamon Goyyim. Now this is one of the stories in Genesis which directly addresses covenant.
It is clearly an establishing myth for the Israelites since God promises make Avram (quote:) “...exceedingly, exceedingly many.” And indeed, the Hebrew word is repeated— ‘exceedingly.’ But it is also an establishing myth for a relationship with God. And it is the relationship with God that, I think, gives us moderns reason to pause.
Why? God is clearly in control. We are not in control. (Quote:) “I am God, Almighty.” (Quote:) “Be blameless,” meaning Avram is called to be perfect, complete. This is not moral purity. This is about being completely devoted to God in an unqualified way.
Also (quote:) “As for me, here— my covenant is with you:...”— a unilateral action of God. And not once but twice Avram and then Avraham falls face down in a form of worship.
Of course, the next thing to mention is obvious and in some ways the key point. God, unilaterally, changes the names of Avram and Sari to Avraham and Sarah. For me, this name change poses the pertinent question. To what does God call us? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest God calls us to change. And the change to which God calls us is to see the world the way God sees the world. And how might God see the world?
I think God sees the world as a place where the possibilities God names astound us in a profound way. (Quote:) “I am a hundred years old. How can children be born to me? Can Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?”
Is this about bearing children at a late age? I think not. I think the claim made is God sees the world as a place where the impossible possibility of the realm of God is a real possibility.
And it is a real possibility not just among the Israelites but among all people. Hence, not Avram but Avraham is to be a (quote:) “progenitor of a multitude of Nations” or Hamon Goyyim, the underlying Hebrew sense of the words also applied to Avraham. [1]
That meaning is clear. Avraham will be a progenitor of all people, all nations, not just the Israelites. And therefore the story is both an establishing myth for Israel but also an establishing myth for humanity in its relationship with God. (Slight pause.)
Earlier I spoke about establishing myths for nations and for individuals. In fact, most groups have establishing myths.
Question: what is the establishing myth of this congregation, this church. Or, to put that another way, if someone asked you what is the reputation of your church in this community, what would you say? What would your claim be?
Now, there may be a lot of answers to that question. But occasionally when I am at a New York Conference or a regional level meeting another pastor will ask me how the church I serve is known in the community.
I say this: we are known as the church with great music and known for our philanthropy. Hence, my claim is our establishing myths are music and mission.
Now, just as I said earlier about my own personal establishing myths, I would hope naming our establishing myths might bring new light to the reality of who we are. I hope naming our myths might enable us to see the underlying facts of where we have been and where we might be going.
But my naming of the myths of this congregational, as I just did, does not matter as much as the myths that you, the members of this congregation, might name for yourselves. And at least in part, that is what the transition process we are and will be experiencing is about: you naming who we are in an effort to see where we are going— easier said than done. Why do I think that’s important?
You see, I am convinced God is not yet finished shaping and reshaping us. I am convinced God beckons us to walk in new ways, in new light, in new hope.
I also believe, just as God called Avram and Sari to change, God calls us, this congregation, to change. Now, you might ask ‘change to what?’ I don’t know.
But I do know this: God is in control. And we, as a congregation, need to be aware of that, to work with that and, perhaps most important, to let God lead us. Amen.
02/252018
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: “An overarching theme of the Bible is covenant. And covenant, explained in stories of establishing myths, is the whole point of Genesis. But we, humans, are not quite comfortable with covenant. We are not comfortable because the covenant starts with God. God is in control. Indeed, many people talk about how wonderful the grace of God is and yet grace is defined as an undeserved gift. What’s amazing is so many people think they have to work for grace— justification by works. But God is in control. So, are we comfortable enough with God being in control to let God lead us?”
BENEDICTION: Do not be ashamed to question all that denies God’s reign. The promises of God are for all. Let us trust in the promises of God. Let us understand, believe in and hold to God’s covenant. Let us depart in confidence and joy knowing that God is with us and let us carry Christ in our hearts. Amen.
[1]
The translation used was adapted from one done by Everett Fox. It was used at this service of worship. The translation uses the Hebrew names and pronunciations of those names found in the story. To be clear, the explanation of the names found in the reading are not a part of the original text. They are offered to help with a better understanding of the writing.
[1] When Avram, the exalted ancestor, was ninety-nine years old, Yahweh appeared to Avram, and said, “I am God, Almighty— or, as it says in the Hebrew, El Shaddai, meaning God, the One on the mountain— I am God, Almighty— walk in my presence, and be wholehearted, blameless. [2] And I will set my covenant, make it between Me and you, and will make you exceedingly, exceedingly many.” [3] Then Avram fell face down before God and God spoke: [4] “As for me, here— my covenant is with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. [5] No longer shall your name be Avram or the exalted ancestor, but your name shall be Avraham or Hamon Goyyim. (And that is Hebrew for the progenitor of a multitude of Nations.) For I, God, Almighty, have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. [6] I will make you most fruitful, exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you; yes, rulers shall go out from you. [7] I will establish My covenant as an everlasting covenant between Me and you, and your descendants after you throughout their generations to come. I will be God to you and to your descendants after you.
[15] God continued and said to Avraham, “As for Sarai your wife, she shall not be called Sarai, but Sarah, (which is Hebrew for Princess — Nobel one). Sarah shall be her name. [16] I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a child by her. I will bless Sarah, so that she shall become nations; rulers of peoples shall come from her.”
[17] And then Avraham fell face down again and laughed, and said, “I am a hundred years old. How can children be born to me? Can Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?”
[19] God said, “...your wife Sarah shall bear you a child, who, since you have laughed, shall be named Yitzhak, Isaac, Laughter. I will establish my covenant with Yitzhak as an everlasting covenant and for all the descendants who shall follow.”
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Monday, February 19, 2018
02/18/2018 ~ Offered at Chenango Valley Home ~ First Sunday in Lent ~ “Rainbows and Covenant”
02/18/2018 ~ Offered at Chenango Valley Home ~ First Sunday in Lent ~ Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 25:1-10; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15.
Rainbows and Covenant
“I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.” — Genesis 9:13.
I think we all know the first two Chapters of the work known as Genesis deal with what has been called the story of creation. But this should also be clear: Genesis was not written to communicate history nor to communicate science. Genesis was, therefore, not written as a description of what happened when the world was made, when the world was created.
In fact, creation stories had an entirely different purpose in the Ancient Near East. They were written to give people a vision of their place in the world, and to help them make sense of existence. The stories gave people a narrative in which and by which they could live their lives. This type of story, which helps people understand their lives is called a functional narrative.
Functional narratives are not an outdated idea. These kinds of narratives still influence people to see the world in a certain way today. Indeed, what may be the most forceful element of all creation stories, not just the creation stories in the Bible but outside the Bible also, is they explain the essence of what it means to be human. And the folks who wrote these stories down understood them that way.
Now, please notice: I just made a statement referring to creation stories both inside and outside of the Bible. I say that because we know there are multiple creation stories found in the ancient New East literature. Indeed, even in the Bible itself, the first two chapters of Genesis weave together two very different creation stories.
We know these two stores in Genesis were written in two different eras because we know what the original language looks like in those two different eras. And, just as English has changed from the time of Shakespeare to what we today call modern English, the same is true for Hebrew. The language was vastly different in different eras and the language used in these two creation stories are different.
And as I also indicated, when it comes to ancient creation stories we do know a number of creation stories are to be found outside of the Bible. Many of these stories were written before Genesis was recorded. In fact, the stories in Genesis rely heavily on those other ancient stories, stories which are found outside the Bible and pre-date Genesis.
All that brings me to the Noah story we heard a couple of minutes ago. To be clear, just as there are a number of creation stories in Ancient Near East literature, there are a number of flood stories in Ancient Near East literature.
Now, earlier I said the purpose of creation stories in the Ancient Near East was to give people a vision of their place in the world, and to help them make sense of existence, give people a narrative in which and by which they could live their lives. The flood story preforms the same task. It gives people a narrative in which and they coucl live their lives.
Indeed in that sense, all of the stories in Genesis are in some way creation stories. You seen the all the stories in Genesis are founding stories, foundation myths of the people of Israel.
The word myth in this context does not mean the stories are untrue. It means they are not written to convey factual data. And again, the people who wrote them down knew that! They are written to convey deep truth, visceral truth, truth about the reality of feelings, the reality of relationship, especially a relationship with God.
In fact, the reading we heard is not just a flood story. It is an oracle, a proclamation from the mouth of God, a decree about the intention of God, God speaking about those intentions.
Noah and the family of Noah have been rescued from destruction by God Who is faithful. The wonder of this text is the faithfulness God has for Noah is not disrupted, even by the flood, the quintessential disruption, the most violent of all the disruptions found in the Hebrew Scriptures.
Now, having said these ancient stories are myth, the purpose of which is to convey not fact but deep truths, leads to the next obvious question. When was this text, this myth story actually written?
Based on the style of the underlying Hebrew we are fairly confident the story dates to around the Sixth Century Before the Common Era. And what was going on in the life of the Jewish community in that era, in their real life?
The people had been taken from their land and were living exile, in captivity, in Babylon. This text was written in the era commonly known as the Babylonian Exile.
In truth, the reality of the Babylonian Exile, being held in captivity in Babylon, is the quintessential disruption, the most violent of all the disruptions found in the actual history, the real history of the Jewish people. Thus the exile is a historical experience of sheer chaos. And the story of that chaos is here narrated through the account known as the flood.
Since that is a given, there are a number of things to note when it comes to this story being seen as a founding myth, a creation myth. And these things I am about to note only reenforce the story of the flood as both a myth which tells deeper truths and a functional narrative.
The words of God focus intensely on God’s person and God’s resolve (quote:) “As for me....” What follows is a peculiar, intentional, unilateral act of God.
God claims initiative for the relationship. God establishes a covenant. Noah has no part in this new covenant, no role to play and no obligation. The covenant is all the doing of God, an act of amazing graciousness, an act of the self-giving of God.
The unilaterally established covenant is now not only with the human community (this human community in this case narrowly embodied in the family of Noah, the only earthly survivors), but also the covenant is established with all the creatures of the earth saved from the flood. What we hear is the voice of the creator, God, who enacts a loyal bonding with creation.
Thus the speech of God here claims not just a creation but a new creation. This is, you see, a creation story, an establishing myth for the Hebrew people but also an establishing myth for all humanity.
All that brings me to the rainbow in the sky. The story ends with a symbol.
This is clear: the promise to exiles in Babylon, the promise to the Jewish people, the promise to all humanity, the functional narrative for all of us, is one which says the God of steadfast love is present because of the covenant pledge of God. And that covenant pledge is a promise. The promise says the will of God will be and is for peace, justice, freedom, equity, love for all people. And yes, the rainbow symbolizes all of that.
And these— God’s peace, justice, freedom, equity, love— these are, all of them, elements of the establishing myth, the deeper truth of God for the Jewish people, for all humanity and for us here today. So here’s an interesting question: was the flood real?
That’s a moot point. It does not matter. That’s a moot point since what is real is the peace, justice, freedom, equity, love of God for all people. Now that’s a function narrative, the myth of deep truth— that the peace, justice, freedom, equity, love— this love of God— is for everyone— that is a deep truth in which we can all abide. Amen.
02/18/2018
Chenango Valley Home, Norwich, NY
Rainbows and Covenant
“I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.” — Genesis 9:13.
I think we all know the first two Chapters of the work known as Genesis deal with what has been called the story of creation. But this should also be clear: Genesis was not written to communicate history nor to communicate science. Genesis was, therefore, not written as a description of what happened when the world was made, when the world was created.
In fact, creation stories had an entirely different purpose in the Ancient Near East. They were written to give people a vision of their place in the world, and to help them make sense of existence. The stories gave people a narrative in which and by which they could live their lives. This type of story, which helps people understand their lives is called a functional narrative.
Functional narratives are not an outdated idea. These kinds of narratives still influence people to see the world in a certain way today. Indeed, what may be the most forceful element of all creation stories, not just the creation stories in the Bible but outside the Bible also, is they explain the essence of what it means to be human. And the folks who wrote these stories down understood them that way.
Now, please notice: I just made a statement referring to creation stories both inside and outside of the Bible. I say that because we know there are multiple creation stories found in the ancient New East literature. Indeed, even in the Bible itself, the first two chapters of Genesis weave together two very different creation stories.
We know these two stores in Genesis were written in two different eras because we know what the original language looks like in those two different eras. And, just as English has changed from the time of Shakespeare to what we today call modern English, the same is true for Hebrew. The language was vastly different in different eras and the language used in these two creation stories are different.
And as I also indicated, when it comes to ancient creation stories we do know a number of creation stories are to be found outside of the Bible. Many of these stories were written before Genesis was recorded. In fact, the stories in Genesis rely heavily on those other ancient stories, stories which are found outside the Bible and pre-date Genesis.
All that brings me to the Noah story we heard a couple of minutes ago. To be clear, just as there are a number of creation stories in Ancient Near East literature, there are a number of flood stories in Ancient Near East literature.
Now, earlier I said the purpose of creation stories in the Ancient Near East was to give people a vision of their place in the world, and to help them make sense of existence, give people a narrative in which and by which they could live their lives. The flood story preforms the same task. It gives people a narrative in which and they coucl live their lives.
Indeed in that sense, all of the stories in Genesis are in some way creation stories. You seen the all the stories in Genesis are founding stories, foundation myths of the people of Israel.
The word myth in this context does not mean the stories are untrue. It means they are not written to convey factual data. And again, the people who wrote them down knew that! They are written to convey deep truth, visceral truth, truth about the reality of feelings, the reality of relationship, especially a relationship with God.
In fact, the reading we heard is not just a flood story. It is an oracle, a proclamation from the mouth of God, a decree about the intention of God, God speaking about those intentions.
Noah and the family of Noah have been rescued from destruction by God Who is faithful. The wonder of this text is the faithfulness God has for Noah is not disrupted, even by the flood, the quintessential disruption, the most violent of all the disruptions found in the Hebrew Scriptures.
Now, having said these ancient stories are myth, the purpose of which is to convey not fact but deep truths, leads to the next obvious question. When was this text, this myth story actually written?
Based on the style of the underlying Hebrew we are fairly confident the story dates to around the Sixth Century Before the Common Era. And what was going on in the life of the Jewish community in that era, in their real life?
The people had been taken from their land and were living exile, in captivity, in Babylon. This text was written in the era commonly known as the Babylonian Exile.
In truth, the reality of the Babylonian Exile, being held in captivity in Babylon, is the quintessential disruption, the most violent of all the disruptions found in the actual history, the real history of the Jewish people. Thus the exile is a historical experience of sheer chaos. And the story of that chaos is here narrated through the account known as the flood.
Since that is a given, there are a number of things to note when it comes to this story being seen as a founding myth, a creation myth. And these things I am about to note only reenforce the story of the flood as both a myth which tells deeper truths and a functional narrative.
The words of God focus intensely on God’s person and God’s resolve (quote:) “As for me....” What follows is a peculiar, intentional, unilateral act of God.
God claims initiative for the relationship. God establishes a covenant. Noah has no part in this new covenant, no role to play and no obligation. The covenant is all the doing of God, an act of amazing graciousness, an act of the self-giving of God.
The unilaterally established covenant is now not only with the human community (this human community in this case narrowly embodied in the family of Noah, the only earthly survivors), but also the covenant is established with all the creatures of the earth saved from the flood. What we hear is the voice of the creator, God, who enacts a loyal bonding with creation.
Thus the speech of God here claims not just a creation but a new creation. This is, you see, a creation story, an establishing myth for the Hebrew people but also an establishing myth for all humanity.
All that brings me to the rainbow in the sky. The story ends with a symbol.
This is clear: the promise to exiles in Babylon, the promise to the Jewish people, the promise to all humanity, the functional narrative for all of us, is one which says the God of steadfast love is present because of the covenant pledge of God. And that covenant pledge is a promise. The promise says the will of God will be and is for peace, justice, freedom, equity, love for all people. And yes, the rainbow symbolizes all of that.
And these— God’s peace, justice, freedom, equity, love— these are, all of them, elements of the establishing myth, the deeper truth of God for the Jewish people, for all humanity and for us here today. So here’s an interesting question: was the flood real?
That’s a moot point. It does not matter. That’s a moot point since what is real is the peace, justice, freedom, equity, love of God for all people. Now that’s a function narrative, the myth of deep truth— that the peace, justice, freedom, equity, love— this love of God— is for everyone— that is a deep truth in which we can all abide. Amen.
02/18/2018
Chenango Valley Home, Norwich, NY
Sunday, February 18, 2018
SERMON ~ 02/18/2018 ~ First Sunday in Lent ~ “In the Beginning”
02/18/2018 ~ First Sunday in Lent ~ Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 25:1-10; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15.
In the Beginning
“Here begins the Gospel, the good news of Jesus, the Christ, the Child of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” — Mark 1:1-2a.
I believe we, all of us, have a story to tell. And I, indeed, have from this pulpit, over time, offered bits and pieces of my own personal story.
Hence, I think most of you have heard what I am about to say. But let me offer the brief version of what I say as a refresher.
How old am I? I was born during President Harry Truman’s first presidential administration. I know, some parishioners were born during FDR’s administrations and very few will say which administration. It’s O.K.
But I do talk about growing up in New York City and what that was like, certainly very different than growing up in Chenango County. I have talked about being a Vietnam Veteran, about working in computer operations when computers took up a space the size of the Founder’s Room, working as a tour guide at South Street Seaport Museum, working on Wall Street, working as a writer in professional theater.
I have talked about family, my grandparents, my parents, my siblings, about how I relate to all my relatives. I, therefore, also talk some about the craziness of family life. Since it’s likely each of us has some craziness in family life I certainly want to address that reality.
And, oh yes, I talk about my life in the church over the course of time, how I grew up in the Roman Catholic tradition and why I am where I am today. And, of course, what this church talk is really about is how I understand and relate to God.
Therefore, I address how at age 44 I, somehow, decided to enter Seminary. And that is... crazy. (Slight pause.)
I hope, as I tell my story, I am clear about what I’m trying to do. I am not trying to overwhelm those who listen to that story with my story.
I am trying to illustrate three things. First, I hope it illustrates there are many ways to tell a story. Second, I hope it illustrates there are many facets to anyone’s story. Third, I hope it illustrates we all have a story.
You see, when I say we all have a story what I am also saying is we all have roots, come from someplace. I think we need to tell our own story, learn how to tell our own story. I think this might help us come to a full self realization of who we are, a full self realization where we are at now, a full self realization where we might be willing to go, where a relationship with God might take us.
Indeed I think we, all of us, need to both tell other people our own story and to listen to ourselves as we tell that story. And I hope you do know that telling your own story is helpful to those around you.
Those who encounter you and your story, because you tell that story, will come to know you better, understand you in an intimate way. Last, I hope you take the time to listen to the stories others tell. Then you will get to know them better. (Slight pause.)
So what is your story? How do you tell it? Have you recently shared your story with someone? (Slight pause.)
These are words with which the writer of the Gospel we know as Mark begins to tell a story about Jesus, Who we claim is the Christ, the Messiah sent to the Jewish people. “Here begins the Gospel, the good news of Jesus, the Christ, the Child of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” (Slight pause.)
Let me offer a couple of basic facts about the Christian Scriptures, the so called New Testament. I can guarantee you have heard most of what I am about to say since I have from this pulpit, over time, offered bits and pieces of this information. (Slight pause.)
The earliest writings in the New Testament are the true Letters of Paul. 13 letters are attributed to the Apostle. Paul actually wrote 7 of those. It’s unlikely Paul wrote the others.
Scholars tell us the true letters were written between the years 52 of the Common Era and 64 or 65 of the Common Era. Scholars are fairly sure Paul died around that time. And it seems unlikely Paul wrote any letters after being dead!
Equally, scholars agree Mark is the earliest Gospel. Most scholars put the writing of this work at the year 70 or slightly later. Hence it was written after Paul was gone.
Now, the true Pauline letters have nearly no story about Jesus in them at all. However, all the Gospels tell a story. And Mark is the earliest, thereby, the first story told about Jesus in the Christian Scriptures, in the so called New Testament.
So, where does the story in Mark, the earliest Gospel, start? Does it start with the birth of Jesus? No. Does it start with the ministry of Jesus? No.
First, the writer starts where any good writer might by stating what the story will address. (Quote:) “Here begins the Gospel, the good news of Jesus, the Christ, the Child of God.”— the good news of Jesus— interesting.
Then the story starts. And, when the story starts, where does it start? (Quote:) “As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” (Slight pause.)
Wow! The beginning of first Gospel written, the earliest attempt at telling the story of Jesus, references the Hebrew Scriptures, starts by quoting Isaiah. (Slight pause.)
Here’s the obvious question. What does that tell us? (Slight pause.)
Well, the words from Mark reference Isaiah Chapter 40, Verse 9. (Quote:) “Go up on a high mountain / you who bring good news to Zion!”— there it is again, those words— good news— “You who bring good news to Zion, / you who bring good news to Jerusalem! / Shout without fear, / do not be afraid; / say to the towns of Judah, / ‘Here is your God!’” (Slight pause.)
Again, wow! Just wow. For me, this is quite clear. Mark ties the story of Jesus to the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the story of God in the Hebrew Scriptures.
Let me put that another way. Right off the writer of Mark tell us Jesus is not the beginning of the story. The story does not start with Jesus.
According to Mark, this earliest telling of the story of Jesus, the story starts with the God of the Hebrew Scriptures. So, who is the God of the Hebrew Scriptures?
We heard about God of the Hebrew Scriptures when the story from Genesis about Noah was read. The story of the rainbow is clear: God is the God of covenant.
And I think Mark is quite clear. The story of Jesus simply continues the story of the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the God of covenant.
And, in the words of New Testament scholar Nicholas Thomas Wright, Jesus is the climax of the covenant. So, if the story of Jesus is a continuation of the story of the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the God of covenant, and Jesus is the climax of that covenant perhaps that is the good news. The covenant lives. And the reality of Jesus, the Messiah, lets us know that God is with us, God walks with us. (Slight pause.)
Well all that having been said, let me come back to the letters of Paul for a minute. Why is it that Paul does not tell the story of Jesus? I want to suggest Paul does not tell the story of Jesus because Paul knows the story of the God of covenant.
And I think Paul assumes anyone who receives these Epistles will know the story of the God of covenant. And so the Apostle addresses the theology of the story. And since the theology of the story of God and Jesus is both an important point to make and is about covenant, Paul never bothers to simply tell the story of Jesus.
Mark on the other hand, perhaps because this is written after Paul is gone, I think assumes those who hear the Gospel story will not know those connections unless they are told about it. Hence, Mark starts the story of Jesus with the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the God of covenant. Again (quote:) “As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” (Slight pause.)
So what is your story? How do you tell it? Have you recently shared your story with someone? How does your story relate to the story we find in Scripture? How does your story relate to the God of covenant?
You see, this God of covenant, this God of the Hebrew Scriptures, this God of the Christian Scriptures is a God of freedom, justice, joy, peace, hope... a God of love. That is covenant. And I think we, all of us, need to both tell other people our story and listen to ourselves as we tell that story. And I hope you do know and realize that telling your own story is helpful to those around you.
Further, those who encounter you and your story, because you tell it, will come to know you better, come to understand you in an intimate way. And yes, I do hope you take the time to listen to the stories others tell. You will get to know them better.
Why do I say that? I say that because I believe the story of each one of us, the story each one of us has to tell, does connect with the God of covenant. I believe the story of each one of us does connect with the God of freedom, justice, joy, peace, hope... a God of love, this God of covenant. (Slight pause.) And what is your story? Amen.
02/18/2018
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
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.
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: “Langston Hughes was an African-American poet, activist, novelist, playwright. He said this: (quote:) ‘I am so tired of waiting, / Aren’t you, / For the world to become good / And beautiful and kind?’ While I will not suggest the world will become good and beautiful and kind if we share our own story and share how our own story relates to the God of covenant, this God of freedom, justice, joy, peace, hope, love I do think being aware of one another’s stories might start us down the path of making the world a better place.”
In the Beginning
“Here begins the Gospel, the good news of Jesus, the Christ, the Child of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” — Mark 1:1-2a.
I believe we, all of us, have a story to tell. And I, indeed, have from this pulpit, over time, offered bits and pieces of my own personal story.
Hence, I think most of you have heard what I am about to say. But let me offer the brief version of what I say as a refresher.
How old am I? I was born during President Harry Truman’s first presidential administration. I know, some parishioners were born during FDR’s administrations and very few will say which administration. It’s O.K.
But I do talk about growing up in New York City and what that was like, certainly very different than growing up in Chenango County. I have talked about being a Vietnam Veteran, about working in computer operations when computers took up a space the size of the Founder’s Room, working as a tour guide at South Street Seaport Museum, working on Wall Street, working as a writer in professional theater.
I have talked about family, my grandparents, my parents, my siblings, about how I relate to all my relatives. I, therefore, also talk some about the craziness of family life. Since it’s likely each of us has some craziness in family life I certainly want to address that reality.
And, oh yes, I talk about my life in the church over the course of time, how I grew up in the Roman Catholic tradition and why I am where I am today. And, of course, what this church talk is really about is how I understand and relate to God.
Therefore, I address how at age 44 I, somehow, decided to enter Seminary. And that is... crazy. (Slight pause.)
I hope, as I tell my story, I am clear about what I’m trying to do. I am not trying to overwhelm those who listen to that story with my story.
I am trying to illustrate three things. First, I hope it illustrates there are many ways to tell a story. Second, I hope it illustrates there are many facets to anyone’s story. Third, I hope it illustrates we all have a story.
You see, when I say we all have a story what I am also saying is we all have roots, come from someplace. I think we need to tell our own story, learn how to tell our own story. I think this might help us come to a full self realization of who we are, a full self realization where we are at now, a full self realization where we might be willing to go, where a relationship with God might take us.
Indeed I think we, all of us, need to both tell other people our own story and to listen to ourselves as we tell that story. And I hope you do know that telling your own story is helpful to those around you.
Those who encounter you and your story, because you tell that story, will come to know you better, understand you in an intimate way. Last, I hope you take the time to listen to the stories others tell. Then you will get to know them better. (Slight pause.)
So what is your story? How do you tell it? Have you recently shared your story with someone? (Slight pause.)
These are words with which the writer of the Gospel we know as Mark begins to tell a story about Jesus, Who we claim is the Christ, the Messiah sent to the Jewish people. “Here begins the Gospel, the good news of Jesus, the Christ, the Child of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” (Slight pause.)
Let me offer a couple of basic facts about the Christian Scriptures, the so called New Testament. I can guarantee you have heard most of what I am about to say since I have from this pulpit, over time, offered bits and pieces of this information. (Slight pause.)
The earliest writings in the New Testament are the true Letters of Paul. 13 letters are attributed to the Apostle. Paul actually wrote 7 of those. It’s unlikely Paul wrote the others.
Scholars tell us the true letters were written between the years 52 of the Common Era and 64 or 65 of the Common Era. Scholars are fairly sure Paul died around that time. And it seems unlikely Paul wrote any letters after being dead!
Equally, scholars agree Mark is the earliest Gospel. Most scholars put the writing of this work at the year 70 or slightly later. Hence it was written after Paul was gone.
Now, the true Pauline letters have nearly no story about Jesus in them at all. However, all the Gospels tell a story. And Mark is the earliest, thereby, the first story told about Jesus in the Christian Scriptures, in the so called New Testament.
So, where does the story in Mark, the earliest Gospel, start? Does it start with the birth of Jesus? No. Does it start with the ministry of Jesus? No.
First, the writer starts where any good writer might by stating what the story will address. (Quote:) “Here begins the Gospel, the good news of Jesus, the Christ, the Child of God.”— the good news of Jesus— interesting.
Then the story starts. And, when the story starts, where does it start? (Quote:) “As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” (Slight pause.)
Wow! The beginning of first Gospel written, the earliest attempt at telling the story of Jesus, references the Hebrew Scriptures, starts by quoting Isaiah. (Slight pause.)
Here’s the obvious question. What does that tell us? (Slight pause.)
Well, the words from Mark reference Isaiah Chapter 40, Verse 9. (Quote:) “Go up on a high mountain / you who bring good news to Zion!”— there it is again, those words— good news— “You who bring good news to Zion, / you who bring good news to Jerusalem! / Shout without fear, / do not be afraid; / say to the towns of Judah, / ‘Here is your God!’” (Slight pause.)
Again, wow! Just wow. For me, this is quite clear. Mark ties the story of Jesus to the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the story of God in the Hebrew Scriptures.
Let me put that another way. Right off the writer of Mark tell us Jesus is not the beginning of the story. The story does not start with Jesus.
According to Mark, this earliest telling of the story of Jesus, the story starts with the God of the Hebrew Scriptures. So, who is the God of the Hebrew Scriptures?
We heard about God of the Hebrew Scriptures when the story from Genesis about Noah was read. The story of the rainbow is clear: God is the God of covenant.
And I think Mark is quite clear. The story of Jesus simply continues the story of the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the God of covenant.
And, in the words of New Testament scholar Nicholas Thomas Wright, Jesus is the climax of the covenant. So, if the story of Jesus is a continuation of the story of the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the God of covenant, and Jesus is the climax of that covenant perhaps that is the good news. The covenant lives. And the reality of Jesus, the Messiah, lets us know that God is with us, God walks with us. (Slight pause.)
Well all that having been said, let me come back to the letters of Paul for a minute. Why is it that Paul does not tell the story of Jesus? I want to suggest Paul does not tell the story of Jesus because Paul knows the story of the God of covenant.
And I think Paul assumes anyone who receives these Epistles will know the story of the God of covenant. And so the Apostle addresses the theology of the story. And since the theology of the story of God and Jesus is both an important point to make and is about covenant, Paul never bothers to simply tell the story of Jesus.
Mark on the other hand, perhaps because this is written after Paul is gone, I think assumes those who hear the Gospel story will not know those connections unless they are told about it. Hence, Mark starts the story of Jesus with the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the God of covenant. Again (quote:) “As it is written in the prophet Isaiah:...” (Slight pause.)
So what is your story? How do you tell it? Have you recently shared your story with someone? How does your story relate to the story we find in Scripture? How does your story relate to the God of covenant?
You see, this God of covenant, this God of the Hebrew Scriptures, this God of the Christian Scriptures is a God of freedom, justice, joy, peace, hope... a God of love. That is covenant. And I think we, all of us, need to both tell other people our story and listen to ourselves as we tell that story. And I hope you do know and realize that telling your own story is helpful to those around you.
Further, those who encounter you and your story, because you tell it, will come to know you better, come to understand you in an intimate way. And yes, I do hope you take the time to listen to the stories others tell. You will get to know them better.
Why do I say that? I say that because I believe the story of each one of us, the story each one of us has to tell, does connect with the God of covenant. I believe the story of each one of us does connect with the God of freedom, justice, joy, peace, hope... a God of love, this God of covenant. (Slight pause.) And what is your story? Amen.
02/18/2018
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
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.
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: “Langston Hughes was an African-American poet, activist, novelist, playwright. He said this: (quote:) ‘I am so tired of waiting, / Aren’t you, / For the world to become good / And beautiful and kind?’ While I will not suggest the world will become good and beautiful and kind if we share our own story and share how our own story relates to the God of covenant, this God of freedom, justice, joy, peace, hope, love I do think being aware of one another’s stories might start us down the path of making the world a better place.”
Thursday, February 15, 2018
SERMON ~ 02/14/2018 ~ Ash Wednesday ~ “Acceptable Times” ~ At Emmanuel Episcopal Church.
02/14/2018 ~ Ash Wednesday ~ Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 or Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21 ~ At Emmanuel Episcopal Church.
Acceptable Times
Since my text will be the 2nd verse of the 6th Chapter of 2 Corinthians, I need to note it can be translated this way: “For God through Isaiah says, / ‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you, heard you, / and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’ See? Now is the acceptable time. See? Now is the day of salvation!” (Slight pause.)
Some of my parishioners know about my background but probably not members of other churches here gathered, despite the fact that I have served a church in this City for 22 years. So, that’s where I want to start. Specifically, I want to address what clergy often refer to as a faith journey, my faith journey, which eventually led to my entering Seminary at the ripe old age of 44. (Slight pause.)
I grew up in the Roman Catholic tradition. With a name like Joseph Francis Connolly, Jr. that’s hard to hide. In my mid-20s I shifted. I became an Episcopalian.
So I’m sorry Steve, perhaps I feel more comfortable in this pulpit than I should. And it’s a small segment of that specific part of the journey, forty years ago when I was a member of the laity of All Angels’ Episcopal Church in New York City, I want to mention.
One of my mentors in ministry was the Rev. Carol Anderson, the second woman officially ordained in the Episcopal Church. After serving as a curate in a very upper crust church on the East Side of Manhattan, she was called to be Rector of the writers, actors and musicians at a church on the West Side, the church I attended.
Carol was there not two months when she invited me to meet with her. Her office was spacious, bright, sunny despite the fact it was located on the artificial canyon known as West 80th Street. This being All Angels’ Church, there was a large, sculpted wood angel, a trumpet held to its lips, in the corner behind where I sat.
Three minutes into our chat Carol leaned toward me and in a very earnest tone said, “Well Joe, when are you going to become a priest?”
I wondered to whom she was talking. I looked over my shoulder and checked with the angel. It was mute. It said nothing. I knew a Master of Divinity degree was a prerequisite for ordination so I must have said something like, “I’m well past the age when I should be going to school for an advanced degree.”
Carol said, “In the Episcopal Church we have something called ‘The Old Man’s Program.’ It’s geared for people who come back to school after a time away.
I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I didn’t know if I felt uncomfortable because Carol was suggesting I might have a vocation, a call, or if it was the fact that a realistic path toward a call actually existed.
Or perhaps I felt uncomfortable because I qualified for something called an ‘Old Man’s Program’ which would mean I was, therefore and by definition, old. I was just thirty. How dare she?
And yes, I did eventually heed the call to ordained ministry. But not for more than another decade and not until I had shifted yet again to the Congregational church. (Slight pause.)
Well, that was just a small section of my story which involved the Episcopal Church. It was even a small section of my story with the Episcopal Church. But it seemed appropriate to share that story given tonight’s setting. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Second Corinthians: “For God says through Isaiah, / ‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you, heard you, / and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’ See? Now is the acceptable time. See? Now is the day of salvation!” (Slight pause.)
I think this passage has innumerable things to say but let me offer a narrow focus. First, it says God listens. What? God listens... to us? And hears? How remarkable.
O.K. But what is this acceptable time to which God refers? In my own case perhaps it was about waiting fourteen years after the story I told, moving to the State of Maine to get married to Bonnie and becoming a Congregationalist before I answered a call, God’s call on my life, since Seminary did not happen until all those years after that conversation with Carol.
Indeed, perhaps what I’ve just referred to as a call by God despite the length of time it took, was simply the aforementioned acceptable time. And perhaps what’s truly amazing is God’s willingness to wait. Indeed, I think God waits for us to get on with what we think we are doing until we realize what God is doing. Perhaps that is what God’s acceptable time is about.
But what is an acceptable time about, really? Paul quotes Second Isaiah, which was probably written in the 6th Century Before the Common Era in this passage. And then this Apostle writes in the First Century of the Common Era. And yet... and yet these words are couched in the present tense. (Quote:) “Now is the acceptable time.”
What are we to make of that? (Slight pause.) In several minutes many of us shall come forward for ashes. After that many of us will come forward for communion.
God may wait on us, but I think one of our calls as Christians is to live in the present tense, right now. I want to suggest one point of the imposition of ashes is not any kind of repentance or even looking back.
Ashes are meant to remind us, help us understand we need to listen and to act, participate in the work of God, right here, right now. Why? We are finite.
I also want to suggest our sharing at the table is meant to assist us in a constant, clear understanding that what we are to do is to participate in the Dominion of God, right here, right now. How is that the message of the table? We are, all of us, members of the churches here gathered, children of God. So at the table, right here, right now, we are invited to share with each other no matter who we are, no matter where we’ve been, no matter where we are at.
The ashes, the bread, cup are tangible, tactile, real, present. I think these are meant to reenforce the idea that the present is imperative.
Indeed, since we are joined as brothers and sisters in Christ here this evening, these experiences are meant to offer clarity to the concept that to be one in Christ is part of our calling. And the experience of the ashes, the bread, the cup should help make it clear that now is an acceptable time to be one in Christ, to thereby participate in the Dominion of God.
All that brings me to this thought from Joan Chittister, the well known writer and Benedictine nun who happens to live in Erie, Pennsylvania. (Quote:) “Lent is not an event. It is not something that happens to us. It is a microcosm of what turns out to be a lifelong journey to the center of the self.”
“The purpose of Lent is to confront us with ourselves in a way that’s conscious and purposeful, that enables us to deal with the rest of life well. Lent is not a ‘penitential season.’ Lent is a growing season.” (Slight pause.)
I think this goes without question. Now is the acceptable time for us to participate in the Dominion of God, the Realm of God.
And Lent reminds us of our call, which is to participate in the work of God. And what is the work of God? Here are just three examples. That would be the work of justice, peace, love. Now that is a call. And that is a calling. Amen.
02/14/2018 ~ Ash Wednesday Service with the First Baptist Church, Broad Street United Methodist Church, Emmanuel Episcopal Church and the United Church of Christ, First Congregational, All of Norwich, NY, Held at Emmanuel Episcopal Church
Acceptable Times
Since my text will be the 2nd verse of the 6th Chapter of 2 Corinthians, I need to note it can be translated this way: “For God through Isaiah says, / ‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you, heard you, / and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’ See? Now is the acceptable time. See? Now is the day of salvation!” (Slight pause.)
Some of my parishioners know about my background but probably not members of other churches here gathered, despite the fact that I have served a church in this City for 22 years. So, that’s where I want to start. Specifically, I want to address what clergy often refer to as a faith journey, my faith journey, which eventually led to my entering Seminary at the ripe old age of 44. (Slight pause.)
I grew up in the Roman Catholic tradition. With a name like Joseph Francis Connolly, Jr. that’s hard to hide. In my mid-20s I shifted. I became an Episcopalian.
So I’m sorry Steve, perhaps I feel more comfortable in this pulpit than I should. And it’s a small segment of that specific part of the journey, forty years ago when I was a member of the laity of All Angels’ Episcopal Church in New York City, I want to mention.
One of my mentors in ministry was the Rev. Carol Anderson, the second woman officially ordained in the Episcopal Church. After serving as a curate in a very upper crust church on the East Side of Manhattan, she was called to be Rector of the writers, actors and musicians at a church on the West Side, the church I attended.
Carol was there not two months when she invited me to meet with her. Her office was spacious, bright, sunny despite the fact it was located on the artificial canyon known as West 80th Street. This being All Angels’ Church, there was a large, sculpted wood angel, a trumpet held to its lips, in the corner behind where I sat.
Three minutes into our chat Carol leaned toward me and in a very earnest tone said, “Well Joe, when are you going to become a priest?”
I wondered to whom she was talking. I looked over my shoulder and checked with the angel. It was mute. It said nothing. I knew a Master of Divinity degree was a prerequisite for ordination so I must have said something like, “I’m well past the age when I should be going to school for an advanced degree.”
Carol said, “In the Episcopal Church we have something called ‘The Old Man’s Program.’ It’s geared for people who come back to school after a time away.
I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I didn’t know if I felt uncomfortable because Carol was suggesting I might have a vocation, a call, or if it was the fact that a realistic path toward a call actually existed.
Or perhaps I felt uncomfortable because I qualified for something called an ‘Old Man’s Program’ which would mean I was, therefore and by definition, old. I was just thirty. How dare she?
And yes, I did eventually heed the call to ordained ministry. But not for more than another decade and not until I had shifted yet again to the Congregational church. (Slight pause.)
Well, that was just a small section of my story which involved the Episcopal Church. It was even a small section of my story with the Episcopal Church. But it seemed appropriate to share that story given tonight’s setting. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Second Corinthians: “For God says through Isaiah, / ‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you, heard you, / and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’ See? Now is the acceptable time. See? Now is the day of salvation!” (Slight pause.)
I think this passage has innumerable things to say but let me offer a narrow focus. First, it says God listens. What? God listens... to us? And hears? How remarkable.
O.K. But what is this acceptable time to which God refers? In my own case perhaps it was about waiting fourteen years after the story I told, moving to the State of Maine to get married to Bonnie and becoming a Congregationalist before I answered a call, God’s call on my life, since Seminary did not happen until all those years after that conversation with Carol.
Indeed, perhaps what I’ve just referred to as a call by God despite the length of time it took, was simply the aforementioned acceptable time. And perhaps what’s truly amazing is God’s willingness to wait. Indeed, I think God waits for us to get on with what we think we are doing until we realize what God is doing. Perhaps that is what God’s acceptable time is about.
But what is an acceptable time about, really? Paul quotes Second Isaiah, which was probably written in the 6th Century Before the Common Era in this passage. And then this Apostle writes in the First Century of the Common Era. And yet... and yet these words are couched in the present tense. (Quote:) “Now is the acceptable time.”
What are we to make of that? (Slight pause.) In several minutes many of us shall come forward for ashes. After that many of us will come forward for communion.
God may wait on us, but I think one of our calls as Christians is to live in the present tense, right now. I want to suggest one point of the imposition of ashes is not any kind of repentance or even looking back.
Ashes are meant to remind us, help us understand we need to listen and to act, participate in the work of God, right here, right now. Why? We are finite.
I also want to suggest our sharing at the table is meant to assist us in a constant, clear understanding that what we are to do is to participate in the Dominion of God, right here, right now. How is that the message of the table? We are, all of us, members of the churches here gathered, children of God. So at the table, right here, right now, we are invited to share with each other no matter who we are, no matter where we’ve been, no matter where we are at.
The ashes, the bread, cup are tangible, tactile, real, present. I think these are meant to reenforce the idea that the present is imperative.
Indeed, since we are joined as brothers and sisters in Christ here this evening, these experiences are meant to offer clarity to the concept that to be one in Christ is part of our calling. And the experience of the ashes, the bread, the cup should help make it clear that now is an acceptable time to be one in Christ, to thereby participate in the Dominion of God.
All that brings me to this thought from Joan Chittister, the well known writer and Benedictine nun who happens to live in Erie, Pennsylvania. (Quote:) “Lent is not an event. It is not something that happens to us. It is a microcosm of what turns out to be a lifelong journey to the center of the self.”
“The purpose of Lent is to confront us with ourselves in a way that’s conscious and purposeful, that enables us to deal with the rest of life well. Lent is not a ‘penitential season.’ Lent is a growing season.” (Slight pause.)
I think this goes without question. Now is the acceptable time for us to participate in the Dominion of God, the Realm of God.
And Lent reminds us of our call, which is to participate in the work of God. And what is the work of God? Here are just three examples. That would be the work of justice, peace, love. Now that is a call. And that is a calling. Amen.
02/14/2018 ~ Ash Wednesday Service with the First Baptist Church, Broad Street United Methodist Church, Emmanuel Episcopal Church and the United Church of Christ, First Congregational, All of Norwich, NY, Held at Emmanuel Episcopal Church
Sunday, February 11, 2018
SERMON ~ 02/11/2018 ~ “The god (and gods) of This World”
02/11/2018 ~ The Last Sunday After Epiphany, Known in Many Traditions as Transfiguration Sunday and in Others as the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Also Known as the Last Sunday before the Season of Lent ~ 2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9.
The god (and gods) of This World
“...unbelieving minds have been kept from seeing by the god of this world, the god of the present age, so that they do not see the light, the splendor of the Gospel showing forth form the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” — 2 Corinthians 4:4.
I have mentioned a number of times that for his entire working career my father taught at Saint Regis High School, on East 84th Street in Manhattan. Across the street from Regis sat Saint Ignatius Grade School. As is implied by the names Saint Regis and Saint Ignatius, both Saints who were Jesuits, these are Jesuit institutions (although the Grade School was and is actually run by the Sisters of Charity. And by the way, the Sisters of Charity were founded in New York City.)
I attended that grade school— Saint Ignatius— for the 7th and 8th grades. So, it was not just my upbringing in a Catholic family that influenced my early years. Many days after classes I would walk across the street to Regis High School, sit in an empty classroom and do homework or read.
As a consequence, I often interacted with my Father’s Jesuit colleagues. Or, as I have sometimes insisted, in many ways my best friends in these very formative years happened to be Jesuits. In a real sense I had Jesuit training, more so than just being in a school.
Now what I am about to say I have mentioned here before. When I graduated from Saint Ignatius grade school in 19xx (here the pastor places his hand on his mouth and mumbles) they gave out little autograph books.
People could sign them and write something. In the front of these there was room for personal information to be filled in. One page invited you to make up a personal motto and enter it.
The personal motto I made up was, “Work like everything depended on you; pray like everything depended on God.” That may sound like a precocious statement coming from a thirteen year old.
On the other hand, because of both my family background and my constant interaction with the aforementioned Jesuits, I don’t think it is. It flowed naturally from me.
And given that statement I guess you could say I’m not an atheist. Yes, I believe in God. But what, exactly, does the very word ‘atheist’ mean? Does it really mean you don’t believe in God, that God does not exist, at least for you?
Let’s explore that idea. The formal, dictionary definition of the word atheist is “a person who does not believe in the existence of a god or any gods.” That sounds straightforward,. But is it? Indeed, despite this definition, I am always fascinated when someone claims they not believe in a god or gods.
Why? This may sound a little academic but from a philosophical point of view— please note: not from a religious point of view, from a philosophical point of view— the very idea of the existence of a god or gods is what’s called an a-priori concept. Here’s an easy way to understand what an a priori concept is. It’s a starting point which cannot be superceded. It’s the place everyone has to start, must start.
So, to say there is a god or there are gods or to say on the other hand there is no god or there are no gods is exactly the same starting point. If someone says there is no god or are no gods— fine. That statement, by definition, is a starting point. That statement becomes a god of some kind. That statement becomes a god and even is a god.
Now, that’s only a minor paradox. Here’s a major paradox.
In our society a lot of people claim to believe in God. But at the same time a lot of people also act as if everything depended on them. They act as if their efforts, their wisdom, their ability to keep all the little planets of their own concerns in perfect orbit around the great sun of their own inner self is what makes things happen.
Indeed, here are some verbal hallmarks you may have heard from folks who display this kind of behavior. “I can handle all this by myself.” “Don’t worry about me.” “Yup, I’m just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Theologian and pastor Nadia Bolz Weber calls this type of behavior “functional atheism.” Do note: what I just described are people who both believe in God but act like atheists since they believe they are in control of the universe. Hence, the term “functional atheism.” [1]
I need to add something to that: one of the great difficulties of the 21st century is our isolation from each other. But therefore, one of the great difficulties of the 21st century is our isolation from God.
What produces isolation? Good question. There are probably a multitude of reasons. But let me focus on one.
Many of us are allergic to asking for help for fear being thought of as “needy.” Some of us would walk off a cliff rather than to show vulnerability to another human being. Some of us would walk off a cliff rather than to show vulnerability by turning to God in prayer, by trusting God. When it comes to this kind of behavior independence is a watchword. (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest we are just as God made us. And that includes sometimes needing help. Indeed, I would suggest not only that God made us. God calls us to fit together. God call us to rely on one another. We are interlocking parts.
A reality of human existence is not independence but interdependence. Interdependence is a reality of God’s call to humanity. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in Second Corinthians: “...unbelieving minds have been kept from seeing by the god of this world, the god of the present age, so that they do not see the light, the splendor of the Gospel showing forth form the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” (Slight pause.)
Well, I am sure the earlier explanation about god or gods being an a priori concept sounded like a journey through philosophy, sounded very academic. The explanation I am about to offer is not at all academic and it’s brief.
None of us are really atheists. Why? We all have a god or gods of some kind. All these gods are gods we created but they are gods none-the-less. You can probably name them all so I don’t feel I need to.
That having been said, I think there is a specific kind of god Nadia Bolz Weber delineates when she uses the label ‘functional atheism.’ That god, the god Weber addresses would be... us. Sometimes we think we are god. Or in the famous words of the cartoonist Walt Kelly— “We have met the enemy and they is us.”
Us is, in fact, a god Paul singles out in this passage. Paul’s words insists we are not God. Paul insists the world does not revolve around us. (Quote:) “For we do not proclaim ourselves; it is not ourselves we preach; we proclaim Jesus, the Christ, as Sovereign and ourselves as workers for the sake of Jesus.”
We do not proclaim ourselves. One of my mentors in ministry, the Rev. Carol Anderson, often told this joke. “God created us,” she said, “God created us in God’s own image and we... returned the favor.” (Slight pause.)
Back when I was working in theater there was a play on Broadway with one of the best play titles ever. Your Arms Are Too Short to Box with God. The play was based on the Gospel we know as Matthew. The title itself, however, is taken from a poem, The Prodigal Son, by the African-American poet James Weldon Johnson.
For me that title— Your Arms Are Too Short to Box with God— is the point Paul is making. Our arms are too short to box with God. Boxing with God, fighting with God, is not a good idea. Working with and within the Dominion of God, participating with God in the Dominion of God— meaning working with God and with each other right here, right now— is our call and our calling.
All that leads me to the words of the 16th Century Saint, Teresa of Ávila. “Christ has no body but yours, / No hands, no feet on earth but yours, / Yours are the eyes with which he looks / Compassion on this world, / Yours are the feet with which he / walks to do good, / Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world. / Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, / Yours are the eyes, you are his body. / Christ has no body now but yours, / No hands, no feet on earth but yours, / Yours are the eyes with which he looks / compassion on this world. / Christ has no body now on earth but yours.” (Slight pause.)
We are, all of us, God’s children. We are, all of us, meant to be as one. We are, all of us, called to do the work of God— now.
You see, these are the last words from the passage from 2 Corinthians today: “For God, Who has said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts, so that we, in turn, might make known the glory of God shining on the face of Christ.” So that we, in turn, might make known the glory of God. Amen.
02/11/2018
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: “As a follow up to my earlier comments let me offer this. Not only do we live in a world of constant change, God calls us to change. Now, most people think there are only two responses to change. Dig in and resist change or go with the flow, go in the direction change seems to be taking. But there is a third choice and I think it’s the place to which God calls us. Purposefully and as much as possible channel change so things change for the betterment of all people, for the good of all people, not just for the benefit of the few. And I think that sums up our real work in the Dominion: strive toward life altering change for the good.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace. God reigns. Therefore, let us go 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] Some of this verbiage is appropriated from this article by Rev. Molly Baskette.
http://www.ucc.org/daily_devotional_functional_atheism_1?utm_campaign=dd_feb6_18&utm_medium=email&utm_source=unitedchurchofchrist
The god (and gods) of This World
“...unbelieving minds have been kept from seeing by the god of this world, the god of the present age, so that they do not see the light, the splendor of the Gospel showing forth form the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” — 2 Corinthians 4:4.
I have mentioned a number of times that for his entire working career my father taught at Saint Regis High School, on East 84th Street in Manhattan. Across the street from Regis sat Saint Ignatius Grade School. As is implied by the names Saint Regis and Saint Ignatius, both Saints who were Jesuits, these are Jesuit institutions (although the Grade School was and is actually run by the Sisters of Charity. And by the way, the Sisters of Charity were founded in New York City.)
I attended that grade school— Saint Ignatius— for the 7th and 8th grades. So, it was not just my upbringing in a Catholic family that influenced my early years. Many days after classes I would walk across the street to Regis High School, sit in an empty classroom and do homework or read.
As a consequence, I often interacted with my Father’s Jesuit colleagues. Or, as I have sometimes insisted, in many ways my best friends in these very formative years happened to be Jesuits. In a real sense I had Jesuit training, more so than just being in a school.
Now what I am about to say I have mentioned here before. When I graduated from Saint Ignatius grade school in 19xx (here the pastor places his hand on his mouth and mumbles) they gave out little autograph books.
People could sign them and write something. In the front of these there was room for personal information to be filled in. One page invited you to make up a personal motto and enter it.
The personal motto I made up was, “Work like everything depended on you; pray like everything depended on God.” That may sound like a precocious statement coming from a thirteen year old.
On the other hand, because of both my family background and my constant interaction with the aforementioned Jesuits, I don’t think it is. It flowed naturally from me.
And given that statement I guess you could say I’m not an atheist. Yes, I believe in God. But what, exactly, does the very word ‘atheist’ mean? Does it really mean you don’t believe in God, that God does not exist, at least for you?
Let’s explore that idea. The formal, dictionary definition of the word atheist is “a person who does not believe in the existence of a god or any gods.” That sounds straightforward,. But is it? Indeed, despite this definition, I am always fascinated when someone claims they not believe in a god or gods.
Why? This may sound a little academic but from a philosophical point of view— please note: not from a religious point of view, from a philosophical point of view— the very idea of the existence of a god or gods is what’s called an a-priori concept. Here’s an easy way to understand what an a priori concept is. It’s a starting point which cannot be superceded. It’s the place everyone has to start, must start.
So, to say there is a god or there are gods or to say on the other hand there is no god or there are no gods is exactly the same starting point. If someone says there is no god or are no gods— fine. That statement, by definition, is a starting point. That statement becomes a god of some kind. That statement becomes a god and even is a god.
Now, that’s only a minor paradox. Here’s a major paradox.
In our society a lot of people claim to believe in God. But at the same time a lot of people also act as if everything depended on them. They act as if their efforts, their wisdom, their ability to keep all the little planets of their own concerns in perfect orbit around the great sun of their own inner self is what makes things happen.
Indeed, here are some verbal hallmarks you may have heard from folks who display this kind of behavior. “I can handle all this by myself.” “Don’t worry about me.” “Yup, I’m just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Theologian and pastor Nadia Bolz Weber calls this type of behavior “functional atheism.” Do note: what I just described are people who both believe in God but act like atheists since they believe they are in control of the universe. Hence, the term “functional atheism.” [1]
I need to add something to that: one of the great difficulties of the 21st century is our isolation from each other. But therefore, one of the great difficulties of the 21st century is our isolation from God.
What produces isolation? Good question. There are probably a multitude of reasons. But let me focus on one.
Many of us are allergic to asking for help for fear being thought of as “needy.” Some of us would walk off a cliff rather than to show vulnerability to another human being. Some of us would walk off a cliff rather than to show vulnerability by turning to God in prayer, by trusting God. When it comes to this kind of behavior independence is a watchword. (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest we are just as God made us. And that includes sometimes needing help. Indeed, I would suggest not only that God made us. God calls us to fit together. God call us to rely on one another. We are interlocking parts.
A reality of human existence is not independence but interdependence. Interdependence is a reality of God’s call to humanity. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in Second Corinthians: “...unbelieving minds have been kept from seeing by the god of this world, the god of the present age, so that they do not see the light, the splendor of the Gospel showing forth form the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” (Slight pause.)
Well, I am sure the earlier explanation about god or gods being an a priori concept sounded like a journey through philosophy, sounded very academic. The explanation I am about to offer is not at all academic and it’s brief.
None of us are really atheists. Why? We all have a god or gods of some kind. All these gods are gods we created but they are gods none-the-less. You can probably name them all so I don’t feel I need to.
That having been said, I think there is a specific kind of god Nadia Bolz Weber delineates when she uses the label ‘functional atheism.’ That god, the god Weber addresses would be... us. Sometimes we think we are god. Or in the famous words of the cartoonist Walt Kelly— “We have met the enemy and they is us.”
Us is, in fact, a god Paul singles out in this passage. Paul’s words insists we are not God. Paul insists the world does not revolve around us. (Quote:) “For we do not proclaim ourselves; it is not ourselves we preach; we proclaim Jesus, the Christ, as Sovereign and ourselves as workers for the sake of Jesus.”
We do not proclaim ourselves. One of my mentors in ministry, the Rev. Carol Anderson, often told this joke. “God created us,” she said, “God created us in God’s own image and we... returned the favor.” (Slight pause.)
Back when I was working in theater there was a play on Broadway with one of the best play titles ever. Your Arms Are Too Short to Box with God. The play was based on the Gospel we know as Matthew. The title itself, however, is taken from a poem, The Prodigal Son, by the African-American poet James Weldon Johnson.
For me that title— Your Arms Are Too Short to Box with God— is the point Paul is making. Our arms are too short to box with God. Boxing with God, fighting with God, is not a good idea. Working with and within the Dominion of God, participating with God in the Dominion of God— meaning working with God and with each other right here, right now— is our call and our calling.
All that leads me to the words of the 16th Century Saint, Teresa of Ávila. “Christ has no body but yours, / No hands, no feet on earth but yours, / Yours are the eyes with which he looks / Compassion on this world, / Yours are the feet with which he / walks to do good, / Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world. / Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, / Yours are the eyes, you are his body. / Christ has no body now but yours, / No hands, no feet on earth but yours, / Yours are the eyes with which he looks / compassion on this world. / Christ has no body now on earth but yours.” (Slight pause.)
We are, all of us, God’s children. We are, all of us, meant to be as one. We are, all of us, called to do the work of God— now.
You see, these are the last words from the passage from 2 Corinthians today: “For God, Who has said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts, so that we, in turn, might make known the glory of God shining on the face of Christ.” So that we, in turn, might make known the glory of God. Amen.
02/11/2018
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: “As a follow up to my earlier comments let me offer this. Not only do we live in a world of constant change, God calls us to change. Now, most people think there are only two responses to change. Dig in and resist change or go with the flow, go in the direction change seems to be taking. But there is a third choice and I think it’s the place to which God calls us. Purposefully and as much as possible channel change so things change for the betterment of all people, for the good of all people, not just for the benefit of the few. And I think that sums up our real work in the Dominion: strive toward life altering change for the good.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace. God reigns. Therefore, let us go 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] Some of this verbiage is appropriated from this article by Rev. Molly Baskette.
http://www.ucc.org/daily_devotional_functional_atheism_1?utm_campaign=dd_feb6_18&utm_medium=email&utm_source=unitedchurchofchrist
Sunday, February 4, 2018
SERMON ~ 02/04/2018 ~ “The Everlasting God”
02/04/2018 ~ Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 40:21-31; Psalm 147:1-11, 20c; 1 Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39 ~ “Soup-er” Bowl Sunday ~ Communion Sunday.
The Everlasting God
“Do you not know? / Have you not heard? / Yahweh is the everlasting God, / the Creator of the ends / of the earth.” — Isaiah 40:28.
As many of you know, I am a Vietnam veteran. My MOS in the Army— MOS is Army speak for what your job is— my MOS in the Army was cook. Hence, I landed at Tonsonuit Airbase and was transported immediately to a mess hall in downtown Saigon.
It was a different kind of mess hall. Only Field Grade officers— Field Grade officers is Army speak for officers who have attained the rank of Major or above— only Field Grade officers were served in this kind of mess hall. It was also frequented by high ranking American Embassy personnel.
But the mess hall was not yet operational when I arrived. That was in process. The Army had taken over a four-star hotel in downtown Saigon just a block and a half from the national assembly building to act as a barracks for those Field Grade officers. The mess hall was located, naturally enough, in what had been the hotel restaurant.
Even though the building was just 6 stories high, it was one of the tallest structures in the city. The eating area on the 6th floor also had an open air patio where meals could be served. That veranda afforded a beautiful vista of downtown Saigon and the Mekong delta.
As I said, the mess hall was not yet open. The target date for that opening was only four days after I arrived.
There was one really big problem. While the restaurant equipment was largely adequate for an army mess hall, the old stove housed there was not. So a huge Army issue stove sat in a crate in front of the hotel waiting to be installed 6 floors up.
The only elevator in the building was just big enough to hold three people, barely. No Army stove was going to fit into that elevator, which presented an interesting challenge: how to get the stove up six flights of stairs. Seven GIs, myself included, were assigned the job of lugging that sucker all the way to the kitchen, six floors up by dint of brut force.
This is where I could insert a long and harrowing story about getting that stove up those stairs. I will not. Suffice it to say we did it.
Now, here’s another piece of Army speak: nearly every last piece of equipment issued by the Army has on a tag or a plate on it. These are called a nomenclature tags or nomenclature plates. Their purpose is to name and describe the equipment to which the tag, the plate is attached.
Only after we got that stove up 6 flights and in place did anyone bother to look at its nomenclature plate. One aspect of that description caught our eyes— weight: 2,000 pounds. Ouch! We had moved a piece of equipment weighing one ton up 6 flights of stairs. At least that’s what the nomenclature plate told us: one ton. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Scroll of the Prophet Isaiah: “Do you not know? / Have you not heard? / Yahweh is the everlasting God, / the Creator of the ends / of the earth.” (Slight pause.)
Nomenclature is an interesting word. For the Army it means name this thing and describe it. It’s a stove— its length, width, height, weight is.... Some would argue that’s a boring but a very necessary thing to do: naming, describing.
In a very real sense, theology does exactly the same job as a nomenclature plate. Theology does nothing more than name God, describe God.
After all, the very word theology means the science of the study of God. That science, any science, gets deeply involved in naming, describing.
Now, on occasion people will ask me what my theology is. What they are really trying to ask is am I a liberal or am I a conservative. What is interesting about that is, while everyone, even some very serious theologians succumb to the temptation of using those terms— liberal and conservative— they have nearly no theological meaning.
Indeed, I say there are two ways to describe my theology. I am a Monotheistic Trinitarian or I am a Trinitarian Monotheist. Please notice, this is a theological description, a naming which proclaims God is Three and God is One.
Also please notice I am not simply a monotheist. You see, each of us knows there are churches all over America who claim only Jesus is God. That’s monotheism. Others make a claim only the Spirit is God. That’s monotheism. Still others claim God is some central, unifying force. That’s monotheism.
These descriptions are really hard positions to justify in terms of historic Christianity which says God is Three and God is One. The Christian description, the Christian naming, the Christian nomenclature, if you would, is much more fluid than for what most people allow and is not easily categorized.
The three monotheistic positions to which I just referred are, paradoxically, easy to describe, easy to explain. That is, perhaps, what makes them attractive. The Trinity— that’s hard to describe, hard to explain.
So, given that I say the Trinity is hard to explain let’s look at the reading from Isaiah, and the awesome language found therein and try to see how these words explain God. Several things should be obvious here.
First, this is a poem. Hence, it does not in any way address a naming, a description, a nomenclature of God. A poem nearly by definition is about an emotional understanding of God, an emotional connection with God.
Second, we know this text was written somewhere around 2,500 or 2,600 years ago. We can be fairly confident noone knew what it was like to fly back then. And yet, this poem addresses what God might see from a great height, higher than any structure.
It speaks about God Who is (quote:) “...above the circle of the earth, above the vaulted roof of the world, and its inhabitants look like grasshoppers;...” That language is just amazing, incredible, especially given that it is ancient.
Then on top of that, these words invite the reader, the listener, to see things from God’s perspective. (Quote:) “...those who wait for Yahweh, God, / shall renew their strength, / they shall mount up, soar with / wings like eagles,....” (Slight pause.)
It is said, I have said from this pulpit, the Hebrews did not have a theology. The Hebrews did not bother to name, to describe. Why? For the Hebrews God is about an emotional understanding of God, an emotional connection with God.
In fact, I think if we look for an exact description of God, a nomenclature, in both the Hebrew Scripture and the Christian Scripture we will not find one. I maintain Scripture is about an emotional understanding of God, an emotional connection with God.
In fact, it is not just said the Hebrews did not have a theology. It is said, rather, the Hebrew did theology. The Hebrews acted. They acted out of their emotional understanding of God, their emotional connection with God.
Indeed, after the reference which invites people to soar with wings like eagles, that verse continues and says this about those who wait for God. (Quote:) “...they shall run and not be weary, / they shall walk and never tire.” In short, those who connect— and not just connect but emotionally connect with God— are empowered by God to act.
All that leaves the obvious question, the one which I think the poem from Isaiah with its language, both fluid and articulate, asks. What is our emotional connection to the reality of God who clearly seeks to be emotionally connected with us?
Indeed, for me this is a question asked throughout Scripture. Are our hearts open to God? The question is just that simple. Are our hearts open to God? Your call. Amen.
02/04/2018
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: “Theologian Walter Brueggemann says the revelation about God found in Scripture is an inscrutable disclosure, not a manageable package. The God found in Scripture, says Brueggemann, is portrayed with remarkable, intentional, artistic illusiveness. I would suggest, thereby, the use of poetry and its ability to address emotions is a natural way to listen for God, especially when trying to discern anything about the will of God.”
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 Everlasting God
“Do you not know? / Have you not heard? / Yahweh is the everlasting God, / the Creator of the ends / of the earth.” — Isaiah 40:28.
As many of you know, I am a Vietnam veteran. My MOS in the Army— MOS is Army speak for what your job is— my MOS in the Army was cook. Hence, I landed at Tonsonuit Airbase and was transported immediately to a mess hall in downtown Saigon.
It was a different kind of mess hall. Only Field Grade officers— Field Grade officers is Army speak for officers who have attained the rank of Major or above— only Field Grade officers were served in this kind of mess hall. It was also frequented by high ranking American Embassy personnel.
But the mess hall was not yet operational when I arrived. That was in process. The Army had taken over a four-star hotel in downtown Saigon just a block and a half from the national assembly building to act as a barracks for those Field Grade officers. The mess hall was located, naturally enough, in what had been the hotel restaurant.
Even though the building was just 6 stories high, it was one of the tallest structures in the city. The eating area on the 6th floor also had an open air patio where meals could be served. That veranda afforded a beautiful vista of downtown Saigon and the Mekong delta.
As I said, the mess hall was not yet open. The target date for that opening was only four days after I arrived.
There was one really big problem. While the restaurant equipment was largely adequate for an army mess hall, the old stove housed there was not. So a huge Army issue stove sat in a crate in front of the hotel waiting to be installed 6 floors up.
The only elevator in the building was just big enough to hold three people, barely. No Army stove was going to fit into that elevator, which presented an interesting challenge: how to get the stove up six flights of stairs. Seven GIs, myself included, were assigned the job of lugging that sucker all the way to the kitchen, six floors up by dint of brut force.
This is where I could insert a long and harrowing story about getting that stove up those stairs. I will not. Suffice it to say we did it.
Now, here’s another piece of Army speak: nearly every last piece of equipment issued by the Army has on a tag or a plate on it. These are called a nomenclature tags or nomenclature plates. Their purpose is to name and describe the equipment to which the tag, the plate is attached.
Only after we got that stove up 6 flights and in place did anyone bother to look at its nomenclature plate. One aspect of that description caught our eyes— weight: 2,000 pounds. Ouch! We had moved a piece of equipment weighing one ton up 6 flights of stairs. At least that’s what the nomenclature plate told us: one ton. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Scroll of the Prophet Isaiah: “Do you not know? / Have you not heard? / Yahweh is the everlasting God, / the Creator of the ends / of the earth.” (Slight pause.)
Nomenclature is an interesting word. For the Army it means name this thing and describe it. It’s a stove— its length, width, height, weight is.... Some would argue that’s a boring but a very necessary thing to do: naming, describing.
In a very real sense, theology does exactly the same job as a nomenclature plate. Theology does nothing more than name God, describe God.
After all, the very word theology means the science of the study of God. That science, any science, gets deeply involved in naming, describing.
Now, on occasion people will ask me what my theology is. What they are really trying to ask is am I a liberal or am I a conservative. What is interesting about that is, while everyone, even some very serious theologians succumb to the temptation of using those terms— liberal and conservative— they have nearly no theological meaning.
Indeed, I say there are two ways to describe my theology. I am a Monotheistic Trinitarian or I am a Trinitarian Monotheist. Please notice, this is a theological description, a naming which proclaims God is Three and God is One.
Also please notice I am not simply a monotheist. You see, each of us knows there are churches all over America who claim only Jesus is God. That’s monotheism. Others make a claim only the Spirit is God. That’s monotheism. Still others claim God is some central, unifying force. That’s monotheism.
These descriptions are really hard positions to justify in terms of historic Christianity which says God is Three and God is One. The Christian description, the Christian naming, the Christian nomenclature, if you would, is much more fluid than for what most people allow and is not easily categorized.
The three monotheistic positions to which I just referred are, paradoxically, easy to describe, easy to explain. That is, perhaps, what makes them attractive. The Trinity— that’s hard to describe, hard to explain.
So, given that I say the Trinity is hard to explain let’s look at the reading from Isaiah, and the awesome language found therein and try to see how these words explain God. Several things should be obvious here.
First, this is a poem. Hence, it does not in any way address a naming, a description, a nomenclature of God. A poem nearly by definition is about an emotional understanding of God, an emotional connection with God.
Second, we know this text was written somewhere around 2,500 or 2,600 years ago. We can be fairly confident noone knew what it was like to fly back then. And yet, this poem addresses what God might see from a great height, higher than any structure.
It speaks about God Who is (quote:) “...above the circle of the earth, above the vaulted roof of the world, and its inhabitants look like grasshoppers;...” That language is just amazing, incredible, especially given that it is ancient.
Then on top of that, these words invite the reader, the listener, to see things from God’s perspective. (Quote:) “...those who wait for Yahweh, God, / shall renew their strength, / they shall mount up, soar with / wings like eagles,....” (Slight pause.)
It is said, I have said from this pulpit, the Hebrews did not have a theology. The Hebrews did not bother to name, to describe. Why? For the Hebrews God is about an emotional understanding of God, an emotional connection with God.
In fact, I think if we look for an exact description of God, a nomenclature, in both the Hebrew Scripture and the Christian Scripture we will not find one. I maintain Scripture is about an emotional understanding of God, an emotional connection with God.
In fact, it is not just said the Hebrews did not have a theology. It is said, rather, the Hebrew did theology. The Hebrews acted. They acted out of their emotional understanding of God, their emotional connection with God.
Indeed, after the reference which invites people to soar with wings like eagles, that verse continues and says this about those who wait for God. (Quote:) “...they shall run and not be weary, / they shall walk and never tire.” In short, those who connect— and not just connect but emotionally connect with God— are empowered by God to act.
All that leaves the obvious question, the one which I think the poem from Isaiah with its language, both fluid and articulate, asks. What is our emotional connection to the reality of God who clearly seeks to be emotionally connected with us?
Indeed, for me this is a question asked throughout Scripture. Are our hearts open to God? The question is just that simple. Are our hearts open to God? Your call. Amen.
02/04/2018
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: “Theologian Walter Brueggemann says the revelation about God found in Scripture is an inscrutable disclosure, not a manageable package. The God found in Scripture, says Brueggemann, is portrayed with remarkable, intentional, artistic illusiveness. I would suggest, thereby, the use of poetry and its ability to address emotions is a natural way to listen for God, especially when trying to discern anything about the will of God.”
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.
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