Sunday, October 18, 2020

 SERMON ~ 10/18/2020 ~ Proper 24 ~ Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost ~ Exodus 33:12-23; Psalm 99; Isaiah 45:1-7; Psalm 96:1-9, (10-13); 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22 ~ Elijah Kellogg Church, Harpswell, Maine ~ Parking Lot Service.

Say One for Me

“We always give thanks to God for all of you and mention you, remember you, in our prayers, constantly.” — 1 Thessalonians 1:2.

Starting last August I have pinch hit, or rather pinch preached, for your Pastor, John Carson, several times.  My second time at here Elijah Kellogg Church I mentioned something very specific about my Mother.  This particular piece of information sounds a little like a joke but it is not.

My Mother was a nun.  Needless to say she left the convent before taking final vows.  She met my father, married and had three children.  I am the oldest.

Based on the fact that my Mother entered the convent these next statements might be assumed.  She was pious.  She took her faith seriously.  She took God seriously.

Jews in the New Testament era— Jews in the city of Thessalonika— would have labeled someone who took God seriously with an obvious title: God seekers.  And they understood even people who were not Jewish might take God seriously.  The way they saw things is, if a person took God seriously, that person should be taken seriously.

Back to my family— for many years we lived in a house diagonally across the street from our church.  That made going to church on Sunday an easy task.  Fall out of bed, take a couple steps— you’re at the front door of the church.

As was true of most inner city Catholic churches in those days, the Sunday Mass schedule started at 7:00 a.m.  There was one Mass every hour on the hour through 11:00.

The 11:00 a.m. one was a so called “High Mass”— a choir sang parts of the Mass, the priest waved a thurible, that pot like thing with burning coal and incense in it.  Hence, at the High Mass the smell of incense permeated the chancel and wafted out to the nave.

For reasons too complex to bother to explain, in my family it seemed most weeks  each of us chose to attend Mass at a different hour.  My mother always attended the last Mass of the day, that High Mass, at 11:00 a.m., because she sang in the choir.

But she was an early riser.  She was, therefore, very aware of when each of us went out the door to take those couple steps across the street to attend Mass.  When any of us headed out the door to the church, she would say the same thing to each of us: “Say one for me.”

Effectively, she was asking each of us to say a prayer for her as we attended church.  While, theologically, I would argue each of us and all of us stands in the need of prayer, I would also argue that among the rag-tag Connolly clan my mother was the one least in need of prayer.  Still she asked for prayer.

She, in fact, said “Say one for me” to us so often this phrase stuck in the memory of her children permanently.  Therefore when she died, we decided to put that saying on her gravestone.  “Say one for me.”  (Slight pause.)

We find these words in the First Letter to the Church in a City known in New Testament times and still known today as Thessalonika.  “We always give thanks to God for all of you and mention you, remember you, in our prayers, constantly.”  (Slight pause.)

Look at what Paul does in this section of the reading.  Paul offers thanks.  Thanks for whom?  Thanks for the people of the church, the community of faith gathered, in the City of Thessalonika.

We moderns do not get this: all of these churches to whom Paul writes were very small.  Scholars doubt each of them would have numbered more than 50 people.

Paul quite directly says to the people in this small church at Thessalonika that they are mentioned, remembered, held in prayer constantly by the Apostle.  Then Paul praises them for their attitude and their actions concerning the reality of God and the Christ.

Paul also acknowledges what they are doing by their example is done through the movement of the Spirit.  And because they are open to the Spirit, this is a model for all believers.  Therefore, their faith is known and celebrated everywhere.  (Slight pause.)

We have here an example of how each of us, in the context of faith, should constantly relate to those around us— pray.  To reiterate, after a standard introductory sentence, Paul offers prayer for the members of the Church in Thessalonika, effectively saying— “people of Thessalonika— let me say one for you.”  Prayer for others is a primary concern.  Why? Prayer, in and of itself, can be empowering.  (Slight pause.)

Now, something which has been said to me over and over again in my years as a Pastor is a request that I pray for someone.  And I honor those requests.

But that very inquiry, asking me to pray for someone, raises an obvious question.  Do I, as an ordained Pastor, have some kind of special relationship with God which might make any prayer I offer more valid than anyone else here today who prays?

The short answer is ‘no.’  I do not have any kind of singular conduit to God.  Ordination did not somehow give me a special or a secret knowledge about how to pray.  We, all of us, need to follow Paul’s example and pray for one another.  There is no question about this.  (Slight pause.)

My perception is what I am about to say is not addressed often enough.  There are techniques, ways of praying, which can be learned.  The point of these methods is to offer ways for individuals to feel comfortable praying and perhaps help the person for whom the prayer is being offered feel comfortable.

Briefly, here are some things any of us can do.  If you agree to pray with or for another person, first listen carefully to any request and try to discern not just what is verbalized but the emotional depth of the request.  Doing this will often offer guidance about what might be placed before God, vocalized and/or thought about as pray is offered.

Next, if the situation is that you will, indeed, pray one on one with another person, it is sometimes suggested that you offer prayer while holding hands or touching an arm— except not in this time of pandemic and, needless to say, only with permission.  Alternatively, perhaps just looking into one another’s eyes will suffice.

These techniques can add a tactile or visual aspect to prayer.  They can also empower a real sense of connection with that other person.

Another technique is, in the course of a prayer which is being offered for and with another person, at some point in the course of those prayers, close your eyes and visualize that person.  As you do so, think about, concentrate on the person for whom the prayer is offered.  Many say doing this can bring both the prayer and the person for whom the prayer is being offered into sharper focus for the one offering the prayer.  (Slight pause.)

I do need to say something about our personal prayer habits.  I once had the honor and privilege of being in a very small group in the presence of Nobel Laureate Archbishop Desmond Tutu.  It was before he had won the Nobel Peace Prize.

Someone asked how much he prayed every day.  Desmond said one or two hours a day, unless he was busy or under stress.  Then it was two or three hours.  (Slight pause.)

Let me come back to the story about my Mother.  She may, indeed, have been the one in our family who was least in need of prayer.  But she also understood, as did Paul, that the first thing we need to do with and for one another is to pray for one another.

And yes, I do think we need to pray for one another faithfully and often, hold each other in prayer.  I also think that holding one another in prayer can help us, empower us to see one another as children of God, as equal before God.

All that having been said, let me make one promise.  I shall hold you all in prayer.  But let me also make one request.  Say one for me.  Amen.

10/18/2020
Elijah Kellogg Church, Harpswell, Maine

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “I need to say one more thing about our personal prayer habits.  Earlier I said we are all ‘children of God.’  Certainly one of the issues in society right now is that some people are seen as outcast, different, the other.  But we are, all of us, children of God.  In God’s world no one is outcast, different, other.  I think praying for others, especially those who society sees as outcast, different, other— whether we know them or not— can be life changing.  At least for me, when I pray for those I do not know, it becomes much harder for me to fail to see them as children of God.”

BENEDICTION: We have gathered, not just as a community, but as a community of faith.  Let us respond to God, who is the true reality, in all that we are and say and do.  Let the Holy Spirit dwell among us and may the peace of God which surpasses our understanding be with us this day and forever more.  Amen.

Sunday, August 9, 2020

SERMON ~ 08/09/2020 ~ Tenth Sunday after Pentecost ~ 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ “Descriptions of God” ~ A “Parking Lot Service” at Elijah Kellogg Church.

 08/09/2020 ~ Tenth Sunday after Pentecost ~ Proper 14 ~ 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28; Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22, 45b; 1 Kings 19:9-18; Psalm 85:8-13; Romans 10:5-15; Matthew 14:22-33 ~ Parking Lot Service at Elijah Kellogg Church, Harpswell, Maine.

Descriptions of God


“Elijah answered, ‘I have been very zealous for Yahweh, God, Omnipotent.’” — I Kings 19:14a.

In what is commonly referred to as the American Main Line Protestant Church— and the Elijah Kellogg Church is within that grand tradition— most of the time, with minor exceptions— pastors have both a Bachelor’s Degree and a 90 Credit, three year Master’s Degree, called a Master of Divinity Degree.  Sometimes it is said in the Congregational tradition we have a learn-ed clergy.

I would be remiss if I did not note that in the context of the American experience, simply by dint of that educational level, this places both our churches and our clergy among the privileged.  That reality alone at minimum deserves a three sermon series, so since I am filling in for Pastor John I am not going there today.

Needless to say, both John and I have the aforementioned certification.  However, my acquisition of those credentials was not always smooth.  I often say my first degree was not from any academic institution but from the school of hard knocks.

Here’s the back story on that.  In the 1950s and 60s my youth was spent on the mean streets of Brooklyn.  No, that is not Brooklin, Maine.  That is Brooklyn, New York.

The first time I tried to go to college— notice how I put that— my academic journey was not always smooth— the first time I tried to go to college I dropped out.  And you may remember there was a little skirmish going on back in the late 1960s.

So shortly after I dropped out I was wearing Army green, walking the mean streets of Saigon.  In one sense I’ve done post-graduate work in the school of hard knocks.

Back to my formal schooling— for reasons quite beyond me when it comes to languages other than American English, I’ve studied Latin, Spanish, German, French, Hebrew and Greek.  This study was done among the other wonderful benefits of a liberal education.

To be clear, while I studied all those languages I am neither fluent nor proficient at any of them.  Sometimes I even wonder about my proficiency with American English.

Now, one thing which might be gleaned in the study of language— especially a range of them— is each language comes with its own baggage, its own preconceived notions of what words are, what they do, how they operate, how they work in the context of that given language.  Let me illustrate this with a church story.

I have a friend who was on a Search Committee to find a new pastor.  It is fairly normal for such committees to take a survey of church members.

This is one of the survey questions the committee developed.  “On a scale of one to ten the Bible is— one: word for word the word of God— to ten: the Bible is an interesting book, worthy of study.”

My friend shared this question with me.  “Gee, that is fascinating,” I responded.  “You see, if you ask me that question in Hebrew, then the Bible is word for word the Word of God.  But if you ask that question in Greek then I’d say the Bible is an interesting book, worthy of study.”  (Slight pause.)

You see Hebrew words are living, breathing beings, difficult to pin down.  In Hebrew the meanings of words are flexible and can change before your eyes.

So if that question is asked in Hebrew, then Scripture would be word for word the Word of God since the language treats words as dynamic.  Greek— not so much— in Greek words are set, solid, concrete.  And that is language baggage.  (Slight pause.)

This is what we hear recorded in I Kings: “Elijah answered, ‘I have been very zealous for Yahweh, God, Omnipotent.’”  (Slight pause.)

English, like Greek, is a Western language.  Words lean toward being set, solid, concrete.  And God is referred to as omnipotent in this passage.  In English omnipotent means all powerful.  But the baggage carried by American English associates omnipotence with naked power, brute force.

This poses a question for us: what does it mean to say God is omnipotent?  Is God about brute force?  (Slight pause.)  Let’s look at a different part of this reading for a clue.

We hear there is a strong wind, an earthquake, fire.  All these phenomena reek of force, power.  But God is not in the wind, the earthquake, the fire.

And then.... and then... Elijah pulls a mantel over his face, goes to the mouth of the cave and listens to.... silence.  Silence— that is not a word we associate with any kind of force or power, is it?  (Slight pause.)

The mantel indicates Elijah recognizes the presence of God.  Elijah hears the voice of God speak and that voice is enfolded in... silence.  (Slight pause.)

So, what does this tell us about God— God who is both heard in silence and is omnipotent?  Perhaps the omnipotence of God is not about brute force, power.  And if the omnipotence we attribute to God is not about brute force, what is it about?  (Slight pause.)

Well, let’s look at what happens in this reading.  God calls Elijah to a mission.  Elijah responds.

Therefore perhaps we should ask, ‘What is our mission?’  That is neither a trick question nor a hard question.  Indeed, there is a clear answer.

We are called to share the love of God.  So let’s suppose for a moment that the omnipotence of God is not about brute force, naked power but about love— limitless love.  You see, force, power is temporal, temporary, fleeting.  Love is eternal.

Indeed, Elijah carries out a mission, but after what we read today Elisha appears and becomes a disciple Elijah.  Then that sweet chariot we sing about in the spiritual swings low and scopes up Elijah.  The work of this prophet is done.  But Elisha carries on the work of God.  (Slight pause.)

This is clear to me: we never know where trying to do the work of God, the work to which God summons us, will take us.  But we can know this: all we are called on to do is our part.

Indeed, when we heed the call to do the work of God, work which is about love, we may never know the consequences.  But the work of God will continue beyond us, if we but remain faithful to doing our part— if we respond by sharing the love of God.

So let me suggest when this service of worship is finished, the work to which God calls us— sharing the love of God— will be all around us.  Indeed, all you have to do is look the headlines and you will know that spreading the love of God is in sore need in the world.

So to reiterate— I maintain God can be described as omnipotent when one thinks of this omnipotence in terms of overwhelming, unconditional love, when one thinks in terms of God who walks with us in love, no matter what the circumstance, no matter where we are at.

Hence, this is the challenge for us— are we willing to hear the call of God to unconditional love?  And are we willing share that love with everyone we meet?  Amen.

08/09/2020
Elijah Kellogg Church, Harpswell, Maine

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak before the Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “A rabbi asked some students: ‘There are prayers done at night, others in daylight so how do we know when night has ended and day begun?’  One student said day is here when I can distinguish my field from my neighbor’s; a second said when I can distinguish my house from my neighbor’s.  Another when I can tell a cow is mine, not my neighbor’s.  ‘No!’ the Rabbi shouted.  ‘You divide, separate, split the world into pieces.  The world is broken enough.  You can tell night has ended and day begun when you look at the face of the person next to you and see your brother, your sister, your neighbor and see that you are one.’” [1]

BENEDICTION: We are commissioned by God to carry God’s peace, the presence of God into the world.  Our words and our deeds will be used by God, for we become messengers of God’s Word in our action.  Let us recognize that God’s transforming power is forever among us.  And may we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much.  May we be so in awe of God that we are in awe of no one and nothing else.  Amen.

[1]   Thomas L. Friedman, Thank You for Being Late (New York, Farrar, 2016) 357-358; adapted for this use.