06/08/2014 ~ Day of Pentecost ~ A Celebration of the Rite of Confirmation ~ Baptism of Corey Johnson ~ Music Sunday ~ Acts 2:1-21 or Numbers 11:24-30; Psalm 104:24-34, 35b; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13 or Acts 2:1-21; John 20:19-23 or John 7:37-39.
Seeing Visions; Dreaming Dreams [1]
“Your sons and your daughters will prophesy / and your young people will see visions / and your elders will dream dreams.” — Acts 2:17b.
I, personally, do not doubt God wants us to see visions and dream dreams. More particularly, I believe God wants us to see the visions God has for humanity and God wants us to dream the dreams God has for humanity. That begs the question: how do we humans get there, get to a place we are and can be empowered to see the visions and dream the dreams God would have us see and dream? (Slight pause.)
We will confirm three teens and one adult today. And, given our Protestant heritage— the priesthood of all believers— I, personally, think every adult should seek to be confirmed— seek to be confirmed— at least every fifteen to twenty years. Why? Well, why would any of us not want an opportunity to mature, to learn, to grow, to engage, to grapple with our faith?
After all, how else might we come to a place we are and can be empowered to see the visions and dream the dreams God would have us see and dream, if not by growing, if not through growth? Now, in fact, when we strive toward a maturity of faith, strive to learn, to grow, to engage, to grapple with our faith might that be just a little frightening? Perhaps— but is that a reason to not do it? (Slight pause.)
Theologian and Pastor, Rev. Brian McLaren says this (quote:) “You are not finished yet. You are ‘in the making.’ You have the capacity to learn, mature, think, change and grow. You also have the freedom to stagnate, regress, constrict and lose your way. Which road will you take?” {unquote} (Slight pause.)
It seems to me, as Christians, we have a pretty clear choice. Growth may sometimes be painful but I think we are called to growth by the Holy Spirit.
Or, in the words of Saint Catherine of Sienna, “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.” Setting the world on fire: last time I looked that is supposed to be why we, as a church, practice the Rite of Confirmation. And that is why I, as a pastor, recommend not just Confirmation for our youth. I recommend adult Confirmation. Adult Confirmation is, you see, an opportunity for growth in the Spirit. Who would want less? Amen.
06/08/2015
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Author H. G. Wells said this (quote;) ‘Human history is more and more a race between education and catastrophe.’ On the more optimistic side, Winston Churchill said this: ‘Success is not final; failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts.’”
BENEDICTION
The love of God is abundant and steadfast. When we give God’s love away, it returns in breathtaking abundance. Let us willingly participate in the grace God offers. May we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much. May we be in awe of God enough, that we need be in awe of nothing and no one else. And may the Word of God be on our tongues, the wisdom of God be with our thinking and the love of God be present in our hearts. Amen.
[1] Given that in this service there was a Baptism, Confirmation and we celebrated Music Sunday, this is a short Homily.
Monday, June 9, 2014
Sunday, May 25, 2014
SERMON ~ "The Paraclete" ~ 05/25/2014 ~ Sixth Sunday of Easter
05/25/2014 ~ Sixth Sunday of Easter ~ Acts 17:22-31; Psalm 66:8-20; 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21 ~ Memorial Day Weekend on the Secular Calendar.
The Paraclete
[Jesus said:] “....I will ask the One who sent me to give you another Advocate, another Paraclete, another Helper, to be with you always, forever— the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot accept, since the world neither sees Her nor recognizes Her. But you can recognize the Spirit, because She remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you.” — John 14:16-17.
George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart were both writing collaborators and theater titans. While Kaufman became famous about a decade earlier than Hart, their mutual notoriety lasted from the early 1930s through the early 1960s. Together but also separately, they wrote plays, musicals, reviews, directed and produced shows.
In 1938 together they wrote a play— The Fabulous Invalid. In part, the tale offered lamentations on how the theater of that era, a long, long time ago was dying.
Despite this premature obituary the institution known as theater somehow survives and lives on. Indeed, both Kaufman and Hart continued to have another two decades in which they were fabulously successful in the theatrical trade.
The name of that play, The Fabulous Invalid, has been and remains a code name for the theater. Why? It always seems like theater is dying— that is until the next hit production.
And yes, theater people often lament the theater is dying. That is, until they, themselves, become involved with the next hit production. In short, the theater just seems like it’s always dying. It’s not.
I suspect the real reason theater survives is because we are a race of story tellers. Theater is, you see, about telling stories. Further, I maintain one of the things which makes us human is we tell stories.
We tell stories to communicate, to make sense of the world around us. The art of telling stories— a central aspect of theater— will always be with us.
Now, that title— The Fabulous Invalid— is one many would apply to the church. After all, how often have you heard it said the church is dying?
It’s likely that was said about three days after Pentecost. It’s likely many of us have said it. And it can be readily argued Christianity in Europe and North America is in decline today— at least in terms of numbers, attendance, budgets, societal influence.
On the other hand, Lutheran Nadia Bolz-Weber recently published a sermon: Stop Saying the Church Is Dying. She draws a distinction between the cultural church— a church that probably is in decline— against a church who proclaims the Gospel, administers sacraments, names as sin the brokenness we find in the world.
Another Lutheran, Erik Parker, says what’s actually happening is not that the church is dying. Rather, the church is in transition, transforming from what for a number of generations it has been. Further, there is a serious flaw in saying the church is dying, especially if the self-centered implication is we today are killing the church.
Consider the weight of that claim over the course of 2,000 years of history. You see, at first the church barely survived getting off the ground. Even a cursory look at the facts will tell you it took nearly 400 years before the church could be called a viable institution within society.
Right after that, the church survived the trauma of becoming imperial, being designated as the religion of the state and taking on the failed structure of that state. Next, the church survived going to war— the Crusades. Then the church survived the Great Schism— East and West— something we in the West barely acknowledge— because those folks over there don’t count— right? I think not.
Still later the church survived the stress of reformations, the rancor of counter-reformations. The church survived the discovery of the so called new worlds.
The church survived numerous splits, scientific revolutions, nationalism, revivals, charismatic movements, global wars. (Slight pause.) And we think we can kill the church today? [1] Come on! (Slight pause.)
So, let me ask an obvious question: is the reason church survives not because we are an institution but because we are story tellers who tell the story of the love of God? Is the reason the church survives not because we are an institution but because we strive to understand and communicate the love of God, because we strive to be... relational? (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as the Gospel According to the School of John— [Jesus said:] “...I will ask the One who sent me to give you another Advocate, another Paraclete, another Helper, to be with you always, forever— the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot accept, since the world neither sees Her nor recognizes Her. But you can recognize the Spirit, because she remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you.” (Slight pause.)
There is no question about this. We are conditioned by our culture to recognize some things and ignore others.
A case in point (quote): “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (Slight pause.) What is most important, the prime word in this sentence? (Slight pause.) Our culture would insist ‘commandments’ is the important piece. And our culture would be wrong.
Throughout Scripture one thing is absolutely clear: the prime imperative is love. And love is, in every sense, the only commandment. All else is superfluous.
Put differently, God does not demand, command, compel, require, force, dictate, order, burden, saddle, mandate. God invites... God invites love. It is human society, our social context and its structures which demand, command, compel, require, force, dictate, order, burden, saddle, mandate. (Slight pause.)
If God invites love, the church is by definition more than an institution. The church is by definition a Spirit-led community proclaiming the gospel, administering sacraments, naming as sin the brokenness we find in the world. If God invites love, the church will exist long after structures of the current institutions are gone. (Slight pause.)
In saying we are a Spirit led community, not a structurally bound institution, I am also suggesting we mis-read Scripture. We read Scripture through a parochial, cultural lens. Our cultural lens instructs us to demand, command, compel, require, force, dictate, order, burden, saddle, mandate and presumes the church should do likewise. (Slight pause.)
But how did Jesus read Scripture? Did Jesus use the cultural lens of the Roman Empire, a cultural lens for which force was the imperative or did Jesus use a lens which sought to be led by the Spirit? (Slight pause.)
Methodist Adam Hamilton says the method Jesus used in reading Scripture is pretty clear. Jesus never set out doctrine or dogma or read scripture in a wooden way.
Jesus clearly favored passages that portray a God of mercy, a God who invites love. In short, Jesus was led by the Spirit in reading Scripture and did not try to tweak instruments of violence out of every jot and tittle. [2] (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to the fabulous invalid known as the church. It is Jesus who refers to (quote): “the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot accept,”— the world cannot accept— and then says (quote): “...you can recognize the Spirit, because She remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you.”
So, the challenge set forth here for us is to read the Scripture the same way Jesus did. Clearly, when we become enamored of a lens which encompasses only our own parochial, limited cultural context, we will see the church as dying.
On the other hand, when we read the words of Scripture with Spirit filled hearts and minds— then what Jesus says (quote): “you can recognize the Spirit, because She remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you”— what Jesus says will be both empowering and will empower us. You see, when we do read the words of Scripture with Spirit filled hearts and minds we are invited to love.
Further, when we read the words of Scripture with Spirit filled hearts and minds, we are invited to communicate to all people that the prime imperative is love. Put another way, we are invited to tell the story Jesus tells about God who loves. And we are invited to relate to each other. (Slight pause.) Love is, you see, is the only commandment. (Slight pause.)
Oh, and you know that thing our denomination— the United Church of Christ— keeps saying: “God is still speaking”? That’s what this Spirit of Truth, this Advocate, this Paraclete, this Helper is about: God is still speaking. Amen.
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Earlier, I claimed the Spirit is still speaking. Well, you heard and anthem today by Lloyd Larson. Mr. Larson adapted a poem by Samuel Longfellow, altered the words and made a really lovely anthem. We also sang a hymn for an Affirmation of Faith. I chose that hymn out of the 1904 Pilgrim Hymnal without realizing it was the same Samuel Longfellow poem. But Mr. Larson had changed the words of Longfellow just enough that at first I did not know it was the same poem. And, guess what? The words were different enough so that they were not they not the same, but they simply complimented each other. Now what was that I said? I think I said the Spirit is still speaking. What do you think? I think ‘yes.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us never fear to seek the truth God reveals. Let us live as a resurrection people. Let us understand every day as a new adventure in faith as the Creator draws us into community. 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 else and nothing else. Amen.
[1] http://millennialpastor.net/2014/05/18/can-we-kill-the-church/
[2] Adam Hamilton, Making Sense of the Bible, HarperOne, © 2014, pg. 54.
The Paraclete
[Jesus said:] “....I will ask the One who sent me to give you another Advocate, another Paraclete, another Helper, to be with you always, forever— the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot accept, since the world neither sees Her nor recognizes Her. But you can recognize the Spirit, because She remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you.” — John 14:16-17.
George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart were both writing collaborators and theater titans. While Kaufman became famous about a decade earlier than Hart, their mutual notoriety lasted from the early 1930s through the early 1960s. Together but also separately, they wrote plays, musicals, reviews, directed and produced shows.
In 1938 together they wrote a play— The Fabulous Invalid. In part, the tale offered lamentations on how the theater of that era, a long, long time ago was dying.
Despite this premature obituary the institution known as theater somehow survives and lives on. Indeed, both Kaufman and Hart continued to have another two decades in which they were fabulously successful in the theatrical trade.
The name of that play, The Fabulous Invalid, has been and remains a code name for the theater. Why? It always seems like theater is dying— that is until the next hit production.
And yes, theater people often lament the theater is dying. That is, until they, themselves, become involved with the next hit production. In short, the theater just seems like it’s always dying. It’s not.
I suspect the real reason theater survives is because we are a race of story tellers. Theater is, you see, about telling stories. Further, I maintain one of the things which makes us human is we tell stories.
We tell stories to communicate, to make sense of the world around us. The art of telling stories— a central aspect of theater— will always be with us.
Now, that title— The Fabulous Invalid— is one many would apply to the church. After all, how often have you heard it said the church is dying?
It’s likely that was said about three days after Pentecost. It’s likely many of us have said it. And it can be readily argued Christianity in Europe and North America is in decline today— at least in terms of numbers, attendance, budgets, societal influence.
On the other hand, Lutheran Nadia Bolz-Weber recently published a sermon: Stop Saying the Church Is Dying. She draws a distinction between the cultural church— a church that probably is in decline— against a church who proclaims the Gospel, administers sacraments, names as sin the brokenness we find in the world.
Another Lutheran, Erik Parker, says what’s actually happening is not that the church is dying. Rather, the church is in transition, transforming from what for a number of generations it has been. Further, there is a serious flaw in saying the church is dying, especially if the self-centered implication is we today are killing the church.
Consider the weight of that claim over the course of 2,000 years of history. You see, at first the church barely survived getting off the ground. Even a cursory look at the facts will tell you it took nearly 400 years before the church could be called a viable institution within society.
Right after that, the church survived the trauma of becoming imperial, being designated as the religion of the state and taking on the failed structure of that state. Next, the church survived going to war— the Crusades. Then the church survived the Great Schism— East and West— something we in the West barely acknowledge— because those folks over there don’t count— right? I think not.
Still later the church survived the stress of reformations, the rancor of counter-reformations. The church survived the discovery of the so called new worlds.
The church survived numerous splits, scientific revolutions, nationalism, revivals, charismatic movements, global wars. (Slight pause.) And we think we can kill the church today? [1] Come on! (Slight pause.)
So, let me ask an obvious question: is the reason church survives not because we are an institution but because we are story tellers who tell the story of the love of God? Is the reason the church survives not because we are an institution but because we strive to understand and communicate the love of God, because we strive to be... relational? (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as the Gospel According to the School of John— [Jesus said:] “...I will ask the One who sent me to give you another Advocate, another Paraclete, another Helper, to be with you always, forever— the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot accept, since the world neither sees Her nor recognizes Her. But you can recognize the Spirit, because she remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you.” (Slight pause.)
There is no question about this. We are conditioned by our culture to recognize some things and ignore others.
A case in point (quote): “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (Slight pause.) What is most important, the prime word in this sentence? (Slight pause.) Our culture would insist ‘commandments’ is the important piece. And our culture would be wrong.
Throughout Scripture one thing is absolutely clear: the prime imperative is love. And love is, in every sense, the only commandment. All else is superfluous.
Put differently, God does not demand, command, compel, require, force, dictate, order, burden, saddle, mandate. God invites... God invites love. It is human society, our social context and its structures which demand, command, compel, require, force, dictate, order, burden, saddle, mandate. (Slight pause.)
If God invites love, the church is by definition more than an institution. The church is by definition a Spirit-led community proclaiming the gospel, administering sacraments, naming as sin the brokenness we find in the world. If God invites love, the church will exist long after structures of the current institutions are gone. (Slight pause.)
In saying we are a Spirit led community, not a structurally bound institution, I am also suggesting we mis-read Scripture. We read Scripture through a parochial, cultural lens. Our cultural lens instructs us to demand, command, compel, require, force, dictate, order, burden, saddle, mandate and presumes the church should do likewise. (Slight pause.)
But how did Jesus read Scripture? Did Jesus use the cultural lens of the Roman Empire, a cultural lens for which force was the imperative or did Jesus use a lens which sought to be led by the Spirit? (Slight pause.)
Methodist Adam Hamilton says the method Jesus used in reading Scripture is pretty clear. Jesus never set out doctrine or dogma or read scripture in a wooden way.
Jesus clearly favored passages that portray a God of mercy, a God who invites love. In short, Jesus was led by the Spirit in reading Scripture and did not try to tweak instruments of violence out of every jot and tittle. [2] (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to the fabulous invalid known as the church. It is Jesus who refers to (quote): “the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot accept,”— the world cannot accept— and then says (quote): “...you can recognize the Spirit, because She remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you.”
So, the challenge set forth here for us is to read the Scripture the same way Jesus did. Clearly, when we become enamored of a lens which encompasses only our own parochial, limited cultural context, we will see the church as dying.
On the other hand, when we read the words of Scripture with Spirit filled hearts and minds— then what Jesus says (quote): “you can recognize the Spirit, because She remains with you and will abide with you, and will be within you”— what Jesus says will be both empowering and will empower us. You see, when we do read the words of Scripture with Spirit filled hearts and minds we are invited to love.
Further, when we read the words of Scripture with Spirit filled hearts and minds, we are invited to communicate to all people that the prime imperative is love. Put another way, we are invited to tell the story Jesus tells about God who loves. And we are invited to relate to each other. (Slight pause.) Love is, you see, is the only commandment. (Slight pause.)
Oh, and you know that thing our denomination— the United Church of Christ— keeps saying: “God is still speaking”? That’s what this Spirit of Truth, this Advocate, this Paraclete, this Helper is about: God is still speaking. Amen.
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Earlier, I claimed the Spirit is still speaking. Well, you heard and anthem today by Lloyd Larson. Mr. Larson adapted a poem by Samuel Longfellow, altered the words and made a really lovely anthem. We also sang a hymn for an Affirmation of Faith. I chose that hymn out of the 1904 Pilgrim Hymnal without realizing it was the same Samuel Longfellow poem. But Mr. Larson had changed the words of Longfellow just enough that at first I did not know it was the same poem. And, guess what? The words were different enough so that they were not they not the same, but they simply complimented each other. Now what was that I said? I think I said the Spirit is still speaking. What do you think? I think ‘yes.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us never fear to seek the truth God reveals. Let us live as a resurrection people. Let us understand every day as a new adventure in faith as the Creator draws us into community. 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 else and nothing else. Amen.
[1] http://millennialpastor.net/2014/05/18/can-we-kill-the-church/
[2] Adam Hamilton, Making Sense of the Bible, HarperOne, © 2014, pg. 54.
Monday, May 19, 2014
SERMON ~ 05/18/2014 ~ “Chosen”
05/18/2014 ~ Fifth Sunday of Easter ~ Acts 7:55-60 ; Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16; 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14.
Chosen
“...you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim, praise and sing about the acts of the One who called you out of the night into the divine light— the marvelous light— of God.” — 1 Peter 2:9.
This church, the Norwich United Church of Christ, First Congregational, is now and has historically been known for its musicians, its music program, its support of music in the community. Indeed, many of our parishioners are musicians or know music well.
While some parishioners are not musicians let me go out on a limb with a generality: all our parishioners are at least familiar with music and/or have a deep appreciation of music, a culture of music. That’s one reason this church is known for its music. It’s a part of our culture.
That having been said, perhaps one reason I am the pastor with this congregation is because of my own background and appreciation of music. I have noted this here before, but let me say it again. I am a member of A.S.C.A.P., the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers as a lyricist.
Now, I think most of us know this about music but for a moment, let me lay out one basic. In choral singing, there are four primary parts: soprano, alto and variations thereof for women; tenor, bass and variations thereof for men. One voicing less well known is called countertenor— countertenor— one word not two.
A countertenor is a male singer but with a vocal range generally equivalent to alto. Indeed, I once had a chance to work with countertenor John Ferrante, best known for comedic appearances with composer Peter Schickele.
Schickele writes very funny music and is, of course, known as the fictitious character P. D. Q. Bach. P. D. Q.— the most dangerous musician since Nero. When countertenor Ferrante worked with Schickele on the P. D. Q. Bach canon he was known not a countertenor but as a bargain countertenor.
Back to the different vocal parts. Having mentioned countertenor, soprano, alto, tenor and bass, let me play some music for you. This will be an electronic adventure; let’s see if it works.
It is a portion of an aria from Giulio Cesare in Egitto— Julius Caesar in Egypt— by George Frideric Handel. The words are in Italian but it was composed for the Royal Academy of Music and first preformed in London in 1724. [1] [2] [There was a pause for playing the recording. For those reading this, the music is on the audio recording of the sermon on the church web site. Or you can go to the URLs in the footnotes to get to the audio.]
OR GO HERE TO LISTEN TO THE MUSIC: http://www.uccnorwichny.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/RobertCrowe.G.F.Handel.GiulioCesareUSED1.mp3
In the recording to which you just listened the singer sounded like a soprano and the singer is a soprano. The singer was Robert Crowe, a male soprano. Male sopranos— even less known than countertenors. I might add, male sopranos are probably outside of our cultural understanding and maybe even outside of our cultural acceptance.
In fact, when interviewed on National Public Radio, Crowe said his experience was people who culturally know something about western classical music question even the possibility of a male soprano. But those who culturally know nothing of western classical music seem to accept the possibility. In short, cultural standards can overwhelm reality. Needless to say, cultural standards are not necessarily accurate. [3] (Slight pause.)
We find these words in First Peter: “...you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim, praise and sing about the acts of the One who called you out of the night into the divine light— the marvelous light— of God.” (Slight pause.)
When doing Bible study there are a number of basic precepts to follow. Three go hand in hand.
First, ask: ‘what is the social context, the accepted social behavior and standards of the time during which the Scripture being studied was written?’ Second, ask: ‘what is the social context, the accepted cultural behavior and standards of our own time?’
Third, ask: ‘how do those cultural standards, ancient and modern, influence us in ways which have nothing to do with theology?’ In short, ‘How do ancient and modern cultural standards influence us, alter in detrimental ways, what was written?’
An example: it’s pretty clear slavery is a common and an accepted social practice throughout the time Scripture is being written but not today. And it’s pretty clear you can find all kinds of support for slavery in Scripture. Does that mean slavery is sanctioned by God? No.
More problematic, however, is when a social practice is common in Biblical times and is also common today. An example: patriarchy, a system in which males are primary authority figures central to social organization, was common in Biblical times. Many see patriarchy as common today in various places and on multiple levels. Because we find patriarchy in both times, does that mean patriarchy is sanctioned by God?
The simple answer is “no.” But there is also a more complex approach which needs to be pursued: ‘how are cultural standards, common in Biblical times and common today— how are these cultural standards overcome?’ And can we, thereby— by overcoming the common standards approach an understanding of a place to which we are called by God?’
Put differently again, ‘how do we overcome what is merely cultural behavior, cultural baggage, and engage in theological behavior?’ (Slight pause.) Perhaps the first step is to try to identify what was simply and only cultural behavior in Scripture and what is simply and only cultural behavior today. (Slight pause.)
I would suggest and I don’t think I would get too many arguments about this. We live in a structured top-down culture. Therefore, people often hold offices of power. Hence, when we read about (quote): “a royal priesthood” we tend to think in terms of someone or some group holding an office with authority.
Culturally, then and now, in Biblical times and today, that’s what priesthood often refers to— someone or some group in an office with authority. But is this passage saying anything about an office of authority held by someone or by some group? I think not.
The imagery in this passage may seem exclusive since it claims us as a chosen race, a royal priesthood. However, there is an insistence on the unity of one body, one household, one race, one priesthood, one nation. There is an insistence on our unity as one people.
You see, the first audience of this letter were people who were displaced and dispossessed— spiritually, religiously, socially, economically, politically displaced, dispossessed. The author asserts in Christ God creates a place for those who have none.
This spiritual house is not a social club of like people which exists for its members. It is, rather, a household— at the head is God; the cornerstone is the Christ.
Those within this household have a new standing— no longer outcasts, no longer marginalized by social conditions. The language exalts this community as it stands before God striving to do the will of God. (Slight pause.)
Given the human temptation to convert a gift into a possession, we too often read passages such as this to mean our standing before God comes as a result of our own merit. We thereby exclude others from membership. The text grants no such license for exclusivity or condescension. God is, you see, the householder and not us. [4] (Slight pause.)
One of the things which makes this passage so powerful and so important is that in Biblical times top-down structure was a given. And yet this passage seeks to counteract a basic cultural message of that time.
This brings us back to male sopranos. Culturally a male soprano is a hard concept for us. And culturally, the very idea of equity— that we are all one before God— is a hard concept. But it is one of the bedrock concepts found in Scripture.
So, in terms of the passage I think the question with which we need to grapple becomes “who are priests?” And I think the answer is clear: all of us are priests. I also think we should not be honored or feel exalted by the office but challenged by it.
We should be challenged to seek the will of God and to do the will of God. Why? We— all of us— are one... and as one we are— all of us— chosen. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
05/14/2014
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “As mentioned earlier, this afternoon I will be representing this Congregation at an ordination. And yes, authorized ministry is an office. But in our denomination authorized ministers narrow their responsibilities, generally to teaching and preaching. It is the priesthood of all believers— you, the Congregation, not the pastors— who are prime in accomplishing the multiple tasks of ministry in the church.”
BENEDICTION: Jesus assures us we will be empowered to do great works. We are, in fact, representatives of Christ, as we share the gifts God has granted us. And may the love of God the creator which is real, the Peace of Christ which surpasses all understanding and the companionship of the Holy Spirit which is ever present, keep our hearts and minds in the knowledge of God and in the care of God this day and forever more. Amen.
[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7x1FCfhhrWY
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giulio_Cesare
[3] http://hereandnow.wbur.org/2014/05/15/male-soprano-crowe
[4] The analysis in several of the previous paragraphs is based on the information from Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary, Based on the NRSV - Years A, B and C, the Electronic Version, from the commentary on this lection.
Chosen
“...you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim, praise and sing about the acts of the One who called you out of the night into the divine light— the marvelous light— of God.” — 1 Peter 2:9.
This church, the Norwich United Church of Christ, First Congregational, is now and has historically been known for its musicians, its music program, its support of music in the community. Indeed, many of our parishioners are musicians or know music well.
While some parishioners are not musicians let me go out on a limb with a generality: all our parishioners are at least familiar with music and/or have a deep appreciation of music, a culture of music. That’s one reason this church is known for its music. It’s a part of our culture.
That having been said, perhaps one reason I am the pastor with this congregation is because of my own background and appreciation of music. I have noted this here before, but let me say it again. I am a member of A.S.C.A.P., the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers as a lyricist.
Now, I think most of us know this about music but for a moment, let me lay out one basic. In choral singing, there are four primary parts: soprano, alto and variations thereof for women; tenor, bass and variations thereof for men. One voicing less well known is called countertenor— countertenor— one word not two.
A countertenor is a male singer but with a vocal range generally equivalent to alto. Indeed, I once had a chance to work with countertenor John Ferrante, best known for comedic appearances with composer Peter Schickele.
Schickele writes very funny music and is, of course, known as the fictitious character P. D. Q. Bach. P. D. Q.— the most dangerous musician since Nero. When countertenor Ferrante worked with Schickele on the P. D. Q. Bach canon he was known not a countertenor but as a bargain countertenor.
Back to the different vocal parts. Having mentioned countertenor, soprano, alto, tenor and bass, let me play some music for you. This will be an electronic adventure; let’s see if it works.
It is a portion of an aria from Giulio Cesare in Egitto— Julius Caesar in Egypt— by George Frideric Handel. The words are in Italian but it was composed for the Royal Academy of Music and first preformed in London in 1724. [1] [2] [There was a pause for playing the recording. For those reading this, the music is on the audio recording of the sermon on the church web site. Or you can go to the URLs in the footnotes to get to the audio.]
OR GO HERE TO LISTEN TO THE MUSIC: http://www.uccnorwichny.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/RobertCrowe.G.F.Handel.GiulioCesareUSED1.mp3
In the recording to which you just listened the singer sounded like a soprano and the singer is a soprano. The singer was Robert Crowe, a male soprano. Male sopranos— even less known than countertenors. I might add, male sopranos are probably outside of our cultural understanding and maybe even outside of our cultural acceptance.
In fact, when interviewed on National Public Radio, Crowe said his experience was people who culturally know something about western classical music question even the possibility of a male soprano. But those who culturally know nothing of western classical music seem to accept the possibility. In short, cultural standards can overwhelm reality. Needless to say, cultural standards are not necessarily accurate. [3] (Slight pause.)
We find these words in First Peter: “...you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim, praise and sing about the acts of the One who called you out of the night into the divine light— the marvelous light— of God.” (Slight pause.)
When doing Bible study there are a number of basic precepts to follow. Three go hand in hand.
First, ask: ‘what is the social context, the accepted social behavior and standards of the time during which the Scripture being studied was written?’ Second, ask: ‘what is the social context, the accepted cultural behavior and standards of our own time?’
Third, ask: ‘how do those cultural standards, ancient and modern, influence us in ways which have nothing to do with theology?’ In short, ‘How do ancient and modern cultural standards influence us, alter in detrimental ways, what was written?’
An example: it’s pretty clear slavery is a common and an accepted social practice throughout the time Scripture is being written but not today. And it’s pretty clear you can find all kinds of support for slavery in Scripture. Does that mean slavery is sanctioned by God? No.
More problematic, however, is when a social practice is common in Biblical times and is also common today. An example: patriarchy, a system in which males are primary authority figures central to social organization, was common in Biblical times. Many see patriarchy as common today in various places and on multiple levels. Because we find patriarchy in both times, does that mean patriarchy is sanctioned by God?
The simple answer is “no.” But there is also a more complex approach which needs to be pursued: ‘how are cultural standards, common in Biblical times and common today— how are these cultural standards overcome?’ And can we, thereby— by overcoming the common standards approach an understanding of a place to which we are called by God?’
Put differently again, ‘how do we overcome what is merely cultural behavior, cultural baggage, and engage in theological behavior?’ (Slight pause.) Perhaps the first step is to try to identify what was simply and only cultural behavior in Scripture and what is simply and only cultural behavior today. (Slight pause.)
I would suggest and I don’t think I would get too many arguments about this. We live in a structured top-down culture. Therefore, people often hold offices of power. Hence, when we read about (quote): “a royal priesthood” we tend to think in terms of someone or some group holding an office with authority.
Culturally, then and now, in Biblical times and today, that’s what priesthood often refers to— someone or some group in an office with authority. But is this passage saying anything about an office of authority held by someone or by some group? I think not.
The imagery in this passage may seem exclusive since it claims us as a chosen race, a royal priesthood. However, there is an insistence on the unity of one body, one household, one race, one priesthood, one nation. There is an insistence on our unity as one people.
You see, the first audience of this letter were people who were displaced and dispossessed— spiritually, religiously, socially, economically, politically displaced, dispossessed. The author asserts in Christ God creates a place for those who have none.
This spiritual house is not a social club of like people which exists for its members. It is, rather, a household— at the head is God; the cornerstone is the Christ.
Those within this household have a new standing— no longer outcasts, no longer marginalized by social conditions. The language exalts this community as it stands before God striving to do the will of God. (Slight pause.)
Given the human temptation to convert a gift into a possession, we too often read passages such as this to mean our standing before God comes as a result of our own merit. We thereby exclude others from membership. The text grants no such license for exclusivity or condescension. God is, you see, the householder and not us. [4] (Slight pause.)
One of the things which makes this passage so powerful and so important is that in Biblical times top-down structure was a given. And yet this passage seeks to counteract a basic cultural message of that time.
This brings us back to male sopranos. Culturally a male soprano is a hard concept for us. And culturally, the very idea of equity— that we are all one before God— is a hard concept. But it is one of the bedrock concepts found in Scripture.
So, in terms of the passage I think the question with which we need to grapple becomes “who are priests?” And I think the answer is clear: all of us are priests. I also think we should not be honored or feel exalted by the office but challenged by it.
We should be challenged to seek the will of God and to do the will of God. Why? We— all of us— are one... and as one we are— all of us— chosen. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
05/14/2014
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “As mentioned earlier, this afternoon I will be representing this Congregation at an ordination. And yes, authorized ministry is an office. But in our denomination authorized ministers narrow their responsibilities, generally to teaching and preaching. It is the priesthood of all believers— you, the Congregation, not the pastors— who are prime in accomplishing the multiple tasks of ministry in the church.”
BENEDICTION: Jesus assures us we will be empowered to do great works. We are, in fact, representatives of Christ, as we share the gifts God has granted us. And may the love of God the creator which is real, the Peace of Christ which surpasses all understanding and the companionship of the Holy Spirit which is ever present, keep our hearts and minds in the knowledge of God and in the care of God this day and forever more. Amen.
[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7x1FCfhhrWY
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giulio_Cesare
[3] http://hereandnow.wbur.org/2014/05/15/male-soprano-crowe
[4] The analysis in several of the previous paragraphs is based on the information from Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary, Based on the NRSV - Years A, B and C, the Electronic Version, from the commentary on this lection.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
SERMON ~ 05/11/2014 ~ Fourth Sunday of Easter ~ “I Am”
05/11/2014 ~ Fourth Sunday of Easter ~ *Acts 2:42-47; Psalm 23; 1 Peter 2:19-25; John 10:1-10 ~ Festival of the Christian Home ~ A.K.A. Mother’s Day.
I Am
“I am the gate. / Whoever enters through me will be safe— / you will go in and go out and find pasture. / The thief comes only to steal / and slaughter and destroy. / I came that you might have life / and have it to the full.” — John 10:9-10
In a recent article the Rev. Dr. Martin Copenhaver, who will start a tenure as the President of Andover Newton Theological School June 1st, he addressed what might stand in the way of religious unity. Religious unity— or as the motto of our denomination The United Church of Christ has it (quoting John 17:21)— “That they may all be one.”
To address religious unity, Marty— I feel comfortable calling him Marty; I’ve met him— to address religious unity, Marty started with a shaggy dog story, an old joke. I rarely apologize, myself, for telling shaggy dog stories or old jokes but I should probably apologize in advance for the Rev. Dr. Copenhaver.
Marty started by saying what stands in the way of religious unity are not great differences but small ones. He told the old story of two people who had just met and were trying to discover the similarities and differences in their religious backgrounds.
One of them asked this question: “Are you Protestant or Catholic?”
The other one replied: “Protestant.”
The first one cracked a little smile and said, “Me too! What franchise?”
“Baptist.”
“Why that’s great! Me too!”
“Well,” said the second one also smiling just a little now, “we all know there are many of flavors of Baptists. Are you a Northern Baptist or are you a Southern Baptist?”
A little wary but certainly more hopeful the first one responded “Southern.”
“Oh, gee! That’s great. Me too!”
Given these were Baptists, the two spent some time making comparisons as to where their sympathies found a real home. Finally, the first one asked, “Are you Northern Conservative Fundamentalist Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1879 or are you Northern Conservative Fundamentalist Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912?”
With a cautious tone the second one replied, “Why, I am Northern Conservative Fundamentalist Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912 and proud of it!”
The first one’s eyes lit up like they were on fire. “I knew it! I knew it! Die, you heretic!” (Slight pause.)
I need to note this kind of phenomenon is not limited to Baptists. Yes, in the United Church of Christ we pride ourselves on openness to faith traditions that are very different from our own.
However, at times we can be, if not critical at least not knowledgeable, even about a United Church of Christ nearby. For example, a church in Elmira in our Susquehanna Association is out of the Evangelical and Reform Tradition.
And the pastor at First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ in Greene comes out of the E & R tradition. After being ordained for over 20 years, Greene is the first church in the Congregational tradition that pastor has ever served.
But most of our churches and our contacts are Congregational. So, we know about Congregationalists. But how much do we know about the E & R tradition, a part of the United Church of Christ? Do we know that when the U.C.C. was formed in 1957 the E & R churches had Bishops?
Do we know E & R churches had to give up their Bishops? Why? The agreement of union called for a Congregational structure, less top-down than having Bishops would allow and less top-down than normal for those churches in the E & R tradition. (Slight pause.)
It seems to me whether we’re talking about churches or nearly any other topic, most of the time we want to and like to distinguish ourselves as different, even if those distinctions are cut very thin. Sigmund Freud called this phenomenon, “the narcissism of small differences.” [1] (Slight pause.)
Perhaps when we do this thin slicing what we are doing is protecting our turf, our territory. Perhaps there is some pride involved. Perhaps there is some insecurity involved. And let’s face it, it often seems we to want to be simply... tribal. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Gospel according to the School of John: “I am the gate. / Whoever enters through me will be safe— / you will go in and go out and find pasture. / The thief comes only to steal / and slaughter and destroy. / I came that you might have life / and have it to the full.” (Slight pause.)
More than any other Gospel John addresses Christology. And the “I am” statements of Jesus appear only in John.
Now, let me unpack that $64 word for you— Christology. Christology is the study of the nature and person of Jesus, especially as that relates to the nature and person of Yahweh, God.
As I have said here before, when Jesus asks “who do you say that I am” those who first heard that question understood the actual question being asked was this: “how does the person Jesus, who we claim to be the Christ, the Messiah of God, fit into and fit with the concept that God is One.” Christology tries to study the relationship of God and Jesus.
That takes us to a simple basic: monotheism is the primary premise of Judaism. God is One.
So, if you are a Jew living in the First Century, how do you explain Jesus? Is Jesus something extra, another god? Is Jesus simply a wise Rabbi, a great teacher?
I think this passage helps us understand Jesus and probably helped those who first heard it understand Jesus. You see, Jesus is not making a self-comparison to the gate— I am the gate.
Nor is Jesus making a comparison to any of the other descriptions found in John— I am— comparisons to Bread, Light, a Door, a Good Shepherd, the Life, the Way, the Truth, the Vine. The important part of these sentences, the important part of these comparisons is not the object of the sentence. It is the subject and verb— “I am.”
You see, if we listened to these words with First Century ears, we would recognize right away that with the words “I am” Jesus is referring to Yahweh, God. And Yahweh, the name of God in Hebrew, is a form of the verb “to be”— “I am.”
So, Jesus claims “the gate” as a metaphor of self description and then says (quote:) “I came that you may have life and have it to the full.” Therefore, we also need to realize in the Jewish tradition the way people in the First Century would understand this— in te Jewish tradition God gives life and gives it to the full. Put another way, Jesus is here addressing a relationship with God.
That brings me back to what Freud called this phenomenon of “the narcissism of small differences.” As far as I can tell a lot of churches get caught up in what might loosely termed doctrinal differences. One of my favorites is when someone asks: “Have you found Jesus?” I sometimes want to say, “I did not know Jesus was lost.”
But the theologian in me also wants to say, “Did Jesus somehow become detached from Trinity? Has the Holy Spirit also gone AWOL?”
In all seriousness, asking someone about finding Jesus is narcissism. The question does not point to Jesus and does not point to the individual being engaged. The question is self referential and points only to the person asking the question.
In fact, the person asking the question appears to be seeking affirmation of what they believe. More troubling: the question, itself, separates Jesus from the Trinity.
I want to suggest the claim that Jesus is the Messiah does not separate Jesus from God or from the Holy Spirit. The point of Trinity is that Jesus, God and the Holy Spirit are inseparably intertwined. And that is, you see, both the impossible reality and the incredible truth: God is Trinity. (Slight pause.)
Well, Jesus— part of the Trinity— clearly taught God includes everyone. The God of Trinity makes no claim that some are unwelcome, unclean, unacceptable. The narcissism of small differences has no place with the God of Trinity. (Slight pause.)
True story: just last week I heard someone say one person was related to them by blood but another person who had married into the family was not related by blood. Now, in this day of DNA testing and genome decoding, being related by blood and not being related by blood is meaningless. DNA testing and genome decoding proves this: we are all related. (Slight pause.)
In several minutes, when we have the Prayers of the People, you will be invited to pray for the girls held captive in Nigeria. [2] Why? After all, they are in Africa. We are in North American.
According to reports, they are mostly Muslim. We are Christians. It’s likely I could slice this very thin, exercise the narcissism of small differences.
But, to quote John 17:21, we are all one. And so we pray. We pray not knowing the outcome. We pray believing God treasures each of us. We pray because we are one, relying on the mercy of God— God who is “I am”; God who is Trinity. Amen.
05/11/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said this: ‘We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly… We aren’t going to have peace on Earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us rejoice for Christ is risen. This service of worship is over but our service in the name of God continues outside these doors. 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 else and nothing else. Amen.
[1] http://www.ucc.org/feed-your-spirit/daily-devotional/too-close-for-comfort.html
[2] A full list of the names of all the girls was included in the bulletin. 96 names were unknown. Each of those was listed separately with this: “Child of God, Name Unknown.” Each person present was asked to pray for one or two of the names on the list.
I Am
“I am the gate. / Whoever enters through me will be safe— / you will go in and go out and find pasture. / The thief comes only to steal / and slaughter and destroy. / I came that you might have life / and have it to the full.” — John 10:9-10
In a recent article the Rev. Dr. Martin Copenhaver, who will start a tenure as the President of Andover Newton Theological School June 1st, he addressed what might stand in the way of religious unity. Religious unity— or as the motto of our denomination The United Church of Christ has it (quoting John 17:21)— “That they may all be one.”
To address religious unity, Marty— I feel comfortable calling him Marty; I’ve met him— to address religious unity, Marty started with a shaggy dog story, an old joke. I rarely apologize, myself, for telling shaggy dog stories or old jokes but I should probably apologize in advance for the Rev. Dr. Copenhaver.
Marty started by saying what stands in the way of religious unity are not great differences but small ones. He told the old story of two people who had just met and were trying to discover the similarities and differences in their religious backgrounds.
One of them asked this question: “Are you Protestant or Catholic?”
The other one replied: “Protestant.”
The first one cracked a little smile and said, “Me too! What franchise?”
“Baptist.”
“Why that’s great! Me too!”
“Well,” said the second one also smiling just a little now, “we all know there are many of flavors of Baptists. Are you a Northern Baptist or are you a Southern Baptist?”
A little wary but certainly more hopeful the first one responded “Southern.”
“Oh, gee! That’s great. Me too!”
Given these were Baptists, the two spent some time making comparisons as to where their sympathies found a real home. Finally, the first one asked, “Are you Northern Conservative Fundamentalist Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1879 or are you Northern Conservative Fundamentalist Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912?”
With a cautious tone the second one replied, “Why, I am Northern Conservative Fundamentalist Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912 and proud of it!”
The first one’s eyes lit up like they were on fire. “I knew it! I knew it! Die, you heretic!” (Slight pause.)
I need to note this kind of phenomenon is not limited to Baptists. Yes, in the United Church of Christ we pride ourselves on openness to faith traditions that are very different from our own.
However, at times we can be, if not critical at least not knowledgeable, even about a United Church of Christ nearby. For example, a church in Elmira in our Susquehanna Association is out of the Evangelical and Reform Tradition.
And the pastor at First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ in Greene comes out of the E & R tradition. After being ordained for over 20 years, Greene is the first church in the Congregational tradition that pastor has ever served.
But most of our churches and our contacts are Congregational. So, we know about Congregationalists. But how much do we know about the E & R tradition, a part of the United Church of Christ? Do we know that when the U.C.C. was formed in 1957 the E & R churches had Bishops?
Do we know E & R churches had to give up their Bishops? Why? The agreement of union called for a Congregational structure, less top-down than having Bishops would allow and less top-down than normal for those churches in the E & R tradition. (Slight pause.)
It seems to me whether we’re talking about churches or nearly any other topic, most of the time we want to and like to distinguish ourselves as different, even if those distinctions are cut very thin. Sigmund Freud called this phenomenon, “the narcissism of small differences.” [1] (Slight pause.)
Perhaps when we do this thin slicing what we are doing is protecting our turf, our territory. Perhaps there is some pride involved. Perhaps there is some insecurity involved. And let’s face it, it often seems we to want to be simply... tribal. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Gospel according to the School of John: “I am the gate. / Whoever enters through me will be safe— / you will go in and go out and find pasture. / The thief comes only to steal / and slaughter and destroy. / I came that you might have life / and have it to the full.” (Slight pause.)
More than any other Gospel John addresses Christology. And the “I am” statements of Jesus appear only in John.
Now, let me unpack that $64 word for you— Christology. Christology is the study of the nature and person of Jesus, especially as that relates to the nature and person of Yahweh, God.
As I have said here before, when Jesus asks “who do you say that I am” those who first heard that question understood the actual question being asked was this: “how does the person Jesus, who we claim to be the Christ, the Messiah of God, fit into and fit with the concept that God is One.” Christology tries to study the relationship of God and Jesus.
That takes us to a simple basic: monotheism is the primary premise of Judaism. God is One.
So, if you are a Jew living in the First Century, how do you explain Jesus? Is Jesus something extra, another god? Is Jesus simply a wise Rabbi, a great teacher?
I think this passage helps us understand Jesus and probably helped those who first heard it understand Jesus. You see, Jesus is not making a self-comparison to the gate— I am the gate.
Nor is Jesus making a comparison to any of the other descriptions found in John— I am— comparisons to Bread, Light, a Door, a Good Shepherd, the Life, the Way, the Truth, the Vine. The important part of these sentences, the important part of these comparisons is not the object of the sentence. It is the subject and verb— “I am.”
You see, if we listened to these words with First Century ears, we would recognize right away that with the words “I am” Jesus is referring to Yahweh, God. And Yahweh, the name of God in Hebrew, is a form of the verb “to be”— “I am.”
So, Jesus claims “the gate” as a metaphor of self description and then says (quote:) “I came that you may have life and have it to the full.” Therefore, we also need to realize in the Jewish tradition the way people in the First Century would understand this— in te Jewish tradition God gives life and gives it to the full. Put another way, Jesus is here addressing a relationship with God.
That brings me back to what Freud called this phenomenon of “the narcissism of small differences.” As far as I can tell a lot of churches get caught up in what might loosely termed doctrinal differences. One of my favorites is when someone asks: “Have you found Jesus?” I sometimes want to say, “I did not know Jesus was lost.”
But the theologian in me also wants to say, “Did Jesus somehow become detached from Trinity? Has the Holy Spirit also gone AWOL?”
In all seriousness, asking someone about finding Jesus is narcissism. The question does not point to Jesus and does not point to the individual being engaged. The question is self referential and points only to the person asking the question.
In fact, the person asking the question appears to be seeking affirmation of what they believe. More troubling: the question, itself, separates Jesus from the Trinity.
I want to suggest the claim that Jesus is the Messiah does not separate Jesus from God or from the Holy Spirit. The point of Trinity is that Jesus, God and the Holy Spirit are inseparably intertwined. And that is, you see, both the impossible reality and the incredible truth: God is Trinity. (Slight pause.)
Well, Jesus— part of the Trinity— clearly taught God includes everyone. The God of Trinity makes no claim that some are unwelcome, unclean, unacceptable. The narcissism of small differences has no place with the God of Trinity. (Slight pause.)
True story: just last week I heard someone say one person was related to them by blood but another person who had married into the family was not related by blood. Now, in this day of DNA testing and genome decoding, being related by blood and not being related by blood is meaningless. DNA testing and genome decoding proves this: we are all related. (Slight pause.)
In several minutes, when we have the Prayers of the People, you will be invited to pray for the girls held captive in Nigeria. [2] Why? After all, they are in Africa. We are in North American.
According to reports, they are mostly Muslim. We are Christians. It’s likely I could slice this very thin, exercise the narcissism of small differences.
But, to quote John 17:21, we are all one. And so we pray. We pray not knowing the outcome. We pray believing God treasures each of us. We pray because we are one, relying on the mercy of God— God who is “I am”; God who is Trinity. Amen.
05/11/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said this: ‘We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly… We aren’t going to have peace on Earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us rejoice for Christ is risen. This service of worship is over but our service in the name of God continues outside these doors. 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 else and nothing else. Amen.
[1] http://www.ucc.org/feed-your-spirit/daily-devotional/too-close-for-comfort.html
[2] A full list of the names of all the girls was included in the bulletin. 96 names were unknown. Each of those was listed separately with this: “Child of God, Name Unknown.” Each person present was asked to pray for one or two of the names on the list.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
SERMON ~ 05/04/2014 ~ Third Sunday of Easter ~ “On the Road Again: the Journey”
05/04/2014 ~ Third Sunday of Easter ~ Acts 2:14a, 36-41; Psalm 116:1-4, 12-19; 1 Peter 1:17-23; Luke 24:13-35.
On the Road Again: the Journey
“They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while Jesus was talking to us on the road, explaining the Scriptures to us?’” — Luke 24:32.
As you know, Bonnie and I arrived here in Norwich from the great State of Maine. And, as you know— I think— once or twice or sometimes three times a year, we point the car north and head out toward Maine.
Cars, fortunately or unfortunately, are not like horses. If you take a horse down a road often enough, once a horse knows that road, you simply give the horse its head, point the horse on the right trail. The horse will take you wherever it is you usually go without much urging or coaxing or guidance.
While Bonnie and I occasionally kid each other that our car knows the way to Brunswick, Bangor and Deer Isle— the places we hang out in Maine— it does not. There may be a lot of horses under the hood but we need to guide those horses pretty carefully to get where we’re going. We know the road; metal horses don’t. (Slight pause.)
My guess is we take a lot of trips on which we don’t actually know the destination, trips when we don’t really know where we’re going. These include the first day of school, a first date, a new job, a marriage. If you think you know where you’re going with any of those, don’t trust that knowledge.
When we travel, when we go to a country we’ve never visited before, France, India, New Zealand— wherever— we don’t really know where we’re going. We simply know the name of the destination. (Slight pause.)
Not to pull something slightly different in here— 2014, as you know, marks the 200th Anniversary year of this church. One of the things we are doing to take note of that milestone is most weeks the cover of the bulletin reflects some aspect of those 200 years.
Please do me a favor? Take a look at the cover of today’s bulletin. (Slight pause.) There you will find the picture of one Reverend Mr. Samuel Scoville. Sam was the longest serving pastor this church has ever known. Sam served from 1861 to 1879— a total of 6,675 days.
As it happens, I am now the second longest serving pastor. The date I was called to this pulpit was June 2nd, 1996. Therefore— God willing and the creeks don’t rise— in mid-September— the 12th to be precise— I will have served this pulpit 6,676 days, one day longer than Sam.
Now, when Bonnie and I pointed our car south and first traveled from Bangor to Norwich, we did know what our destination was: Norwich. But we did not know what the journey would entail, what the journey would be.
Indeed, a couple of weeks ago, when members of the laity disguised a laity Sunday and surprised me with a Pastor’s Appreciation Sunday I had a fairly strong emotional reaction as I looked around the nave. That happened because I saw people with whom I had interacted over the years on many levels and in many ways.
I officiated at weddings of some of the people in attendance that day. I officiated at Memorial services for relatives and friends of some of the people in attendance that day. There were people present who I had counseled, consoled, visited in the hospital, visited at their home.
There were people whose children I have seen born and whose children I have Baptized. There were people whose children I have seen grow to maturity.
Of equal importance, there were people with whom I had shared a joke, a dinner, a round of golf, people with whom I had chatted about baseball, football, music, art, television shows, movies, performances at the Arts Council. Additionally, as I looked around the nave, in my mind’s eye I could see those who had been here and had moved away. And I could see those been freed from the bonds of this frail life. (Slight pause.)
You see, the trip from Bangor to Norwich was not the journey. That was only a trip down a road. The journey— the real journey— was being involved with people, involved with their lives, striving to know them as deeply as I could and, yes— striving to love them as well as I could.
Part of the point I am trying to make is this was not just my journey. People are born, people die, people leave for other locations, people return. And that is— all of it— the journey. And it is not just my journey. It is our journey, all of us, together with one another. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work commonly called Luke: “They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while Jesus was talking to us on the road, explaining the Scriptures to us?’” (Slight pause.)
I suspect Cleopas and a companion are walking down a road they have traveled often. I suspect they know their destination. That possibility can certainly be gleaned from the story.
But does that mean they know where they are going? Does that mean they know about the journey? I think not. And I think that’s what they find out from the traveler who joins them on the road.
I think what they really learn from that traveler is a lesson about being on the road, a lesson about the journey. Yes, Jesus explains the Scripture. Yes, Jesus explains the Messiah. But what is that explanation, really? (Slight pause.)
You have heard me say this on many occasions: the work known as Luke and the work known as Acts are two volumes of one work. We need to understand the stories in one resonate with the stories in the other. Taken as a whole, they inform us about both.
I think the reading we heard from Acts helps fill out the explanation of the Messiah. That passage is filled with illustrations explaining the Messiah, but let me concentrate on one verse (quote): “Even upon the most insignificant of my people, both women and men, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they will prophesy.” (Slight pause.)
As often as we take it this way, you see, the advent of the Messiah is not an end point, not a stopping point, not a goal, not a destination. It is especially not some promise about the “sweet by and by.”
Rather, the advent of the Messiah is an invitation for us to participate in the journey and a promise that, if we participate in the work of God, we will be empowered by God for that work. The advent of the Messiah is a sign and seal of a promise made to us by God that the covenant offered by God is real.
Jesus, you see, is not the destination. Jesus is not a goal. Jesus is the Messiah, a sign of the truth of the covenant.
Claiming Jesus is a destination and claiming Jesus as a destination is triumphalism, simply another way of saying ‘I win you lose.’ “I win, you lose” is not a Christian claim. The Christian claim is that with the advent of the Messiah we are and have been summoned by God to be a priesthood of believers, doing the will of God, doing the work of God.
Hence, the “Road to Emmaus” is not about a destination. The road to Emmaus is about the journey. And on that journey Jesus interpreted the Scriptures. Certainly therefore, some of this road is about learning. And some of this road is about learning from the journey. And some of this road is about learning on the journey. (Slight pause.)
If I know nothing else, I know this about the road, I know this about the journey: it does not matter how long the road is and it does not even matter if you fully know where you are going or where the road is going. Every journey starts with one given. Every journey starts with taking the first step.
Or perhaps even more to the point, every journey starts with being willing to take the first step. And that is, I think, the basic question posed to us by the story of the road to Emmaus: are we willing to be on the road, on the journey with God and with each other? Are we willing to learn? Are we willing to take that first step? Amen.
05/04/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Theologian Miroslav Volf of Yale University has said this (quote): ‘Trust in God is a leap into the invisible, a risk taken in conviction that what cannot be seen is more secure than that which we can see.’ And, indeed, a willingness to be on the journey is a leap into the invisible, a risk taken in conviction that what cannot be seen is more secure than that which we can see. Are we willing?”
BENEDICTION: Let us serve the world in the name of Christ. Let the love of Christ find expression in 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 else and nothing else. Amen.
On the Road Again: the Journey
“They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while Jesus was talking to us on the road, explaining the Scriptures to us?’” — Luke 24:32.
As you know, Bonnie and I arrived here in Norwich from the great State of Maine. And, as you know— I think— once or twice or sometimes three times a year, we point the car north and head out toward Maine.
Cars, fortunately or unfortunately, are not like horses. If you take a horse down a road often enough, once a horse knows that road, you simply give the horse its head, point the horse on the right trail. The horse will take you wherever it is you usually go without much urging or coaxing or guidance.
While Bonnie and I occasionally kid each other that our car knows the way to Brunswick, Bangor and Deer Isle— the places we hang out in Maine— it does not. There may be a lot of horses under the hood but we need to guide those horses pretty carefully to get where we’re going. We know the road; metal horses don’t. (Slight pause.)
My guess is we take a lot of trips on which we don’t actually know the destination, trips when we don’t really know where we’re going. These include the first day of school, a first date, a new job, a marriage. If you think you know where you’re going with any of those, don’t trust that knowledge.
When we travel, when we go to a country we’ve never visited before, France, India, New Zealand— wherever— we don’t really know where we’re going. We simply know the name of the destination. (Slight pause.)
Not to pull something slightly different in here— 2014, as you know, marks the 200th Anniversary year of this church. One of the things we are doing to take note of that milestone is most weeks the cover of the bulletin reflects some aspect of those 200 years.
Please do me a favor? Take a look at the cover of today’s bulletin. (Slight pause.) There you will find the picture of one Reverend Mr. Samuel Scoville. Sam was the longest serving pastor this church has ever known. Sam served from 1861 to 1879— a total of 6,675 days.
As it happens, I am now the second longest serving pastor. The date I was called to this pulpit was June 2nd, 1996. Therefore— God willing and the creeks don’t rise— in mid-September— the 12th to be precise— I will have served this pulpit 6,676 days, one day longer than Sam.
Now, when Bonnie and I pointed our car south and first traveled from Bangor to Norwich, we did know what our destination was: Norwich. But we did not know what the journey would entail, what the journey would be.
Indeed, a couple of weeks ago, when members of the laity disguised a laity Sunday and surprised me with a Pastor’s Appreciation Sunday I had a fairly strong emotional reaction as I looked around the nave. That happened because I saw people with whom I had interacted over the years on many levels and in many ways.
I officiated at weddings of some of the people in attendance that day. I officiated at Memorial services for relatives and friends of some of the people in attendance that day. There were people present who I had counseled, consoled, visited in the hospital, visited at their home.
There were people whose children I have seen born and whose children I have Baptized. There were people whose children I have seen grow to maturity.
Of equal importance, there were people with whom I had shared a joke, a dinner, a round of golf, people with whom I had chatted about baseball, football, music, art, television shows, movies, performances at the Arts Council. Additionally, as I looked around the nave, in my mind’s eye I could see those who had been here and had moved away. And I could see those been freed from the bonds of this frail life. (Slight pause.)
You see, the trip from Bangor to Norwich was not the journey. That was only a trip down a road. The journey— the real journey— was being involved with people, involved with their lives, striving to know them as deeply as I could and, yes— striving to love them as well as I could.
Part of the point I am trying to make is this was not just my journey. People are born, people die, people leave for other locations, people return. And that is— all of it— the journey. And it is not just my journey. It is our journey, all of us, together with one another. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work commonly called Luke: “They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while Jesus was talking to us on the road, explaining the Scriptures to us?’” (Slight pause.)
I suspect Cleopas and a companion are walking down a road they have traveled often. I suspect they know their destination. That possibility can certainly be gleaned from the story.
But does that mean they know where they are going? Does that mean they know about the journey? I think not. And I think that’s what they find out from the traveler who joins them on the road.
I think what they really learn from that traveler is a lesson about being on the road, a lesson about the journey. Yes, Jesus explains the Scripture. Yes, Jesus explains the Messiah. But what is that explanation, really? (Slight pause.)
You have heard me say this on many occasions: the work known as Luke and the work known as Acts are two volumes of one work. We need to understand the stories in one resonate with the stories in the other. Taken as a whole, they inform us about both.
I think the reading we heard from Acts helps fill out the explanation of the Messiah. That passage is filled with illustrations explaining the Messiah, but let me concentrate on one verse (quote): “Even upon the most insignificant of my people, both women and men, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they will prophesy.” (Slight pause.)
As often as we take it this way, you see, the advent of the Messiah is not an end point, not a stopping point, not a goal, not a destination. It is especially not some promise about the “sweet by and by.”
Rather, the advent of the Messiah is an invitation for us to participate in the journey and a promise that, if we participate in the work of God, we will be empowered by God for that work. The advent of the Messiah is a sign and seal of a promise made to us by God that the covenant offered by God is real.
Jesus, you see, is not the destination. Jesus is not a goal. Jesus is the Messiah, a sign of the truth of the covenant.
Claiming Jesus is a destination and claiming Jesus as a destination is triumphalism, simply another way of saying ‘I win you lose.’ “I win, you lose” is not a Christian claim. The Christian claim is that with the advent of the Messiah we are and have been summoned by God to be a priesthood of believers, doing the will of God, doing the work of God.
Hence, the “Road to Emmaus” is not about a destination. The road to Emmaus is about the journey. And on that journey Jesus interpreted the Scriptures. Certainly therefore, some of this road is about learning. And some of this road is about learning from the journey. And some of this road is about learning on the journey. (Slight pause.)
If I know nothing else, I know this about the road, I know this about the journey: it does not matter how long the road is and it does not even matter if you fully know where you are going or where the road is going. Every journey starts with one given. Every journey starts with taking the first step.
Or perhaps even more to the point, every journey starts with being willing to take the first step. And that is, I think, the basic question posed to us by the story of the road to Emmaus: are we willing to be on the road, on the journey with God and with each other? Are we willing to learn? Are we willing to take that first step? Amen.
05/04/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Theologian Miroslav Volf of Yale University has said this (quote): ‘Trust in God is a leap into the invisible, a risk taken in conviction that what cannot be seen is more secure than that which we can see.’ And, indeed, a willingness to be on the journey is a leap into the invisible, a risk taken in conviction that what cannot be seen is more secure than that which we can see. Are we willing?”
BENEDICTION: Let us serve the world in the name of Christ. Let the love of Christ find expression in 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 else and nothing else. Amen.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
SERMON ~ 04/27/2014 ~ “Being Sent”
04/27/2014 ~ Second Sunday of Easter ~ Acts 2:14a, 22-32; Psalm 16; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31.
“Then Jesus said, ‘As Abba God has sent me, so I am sending you.’ After saying this, Jesus breathed on them and said: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” — John 20:21b-22.
Today, this very morning— and you may know about this or have seen a story about it— today Pope Francis will hold a ceremony or has held a ceremony at which two Papal predecessors will be Canonized, declared Saints of the church. The new saints are John the XXIII and John Paul the II.
When something like this happens, when some church function with high visibility happens, be it in the Roman Church or another church, say Rick Warren’s Church, I believe the lens through which most people see these events focuses our view in such a way that we tend to see church as monolith. Put another way, when highly visible church events happen our tendency is to see the church both as a much more universal and a much more unified institution than either today’s reality or the reality of the record we find in history suggests.
Hence, today’s events lead me to ask two questions: ‘what is church?’ and ‘who is a saint?’ Put differently: ‘how do we define church’ and ‘how do we define sainthood?’
For starters, let me tackle the ‘what is church?’ question. (Slight pause.) First, for those of us in the Congregational tradition, the one thing we should never say (although I sometimes do find myself saying it) is using the word church to mean building.
This building is not a church. This building is a meeting house. The people are the church. In the Hebrew Scriptures the assembly or the congregation is the term used and it always refers to the people, not to a structure, not even an institution.
Next, today people often assume the early church was much more unified, more organized, more universal, more monolithic than that aforementioned record we find in history suggests. But in the first four centuries after the resurrection the church was very local and not very organized. Yes, there was a hierarchy with Bishops. But it was a local hierarchy. Each Bishop was in charge of their own see, their own area, their own territory.
In the early church each area often held different beliefs and even had different collections of what we, today, call Scripture— for the first four centuries! In short, beyond the local area top-down oversight and/or a broad sense of unity simply did not exist. The church was a bottom-up operation.
Some degree of unity does come into the picture when Constantine declares Christianity the official state religion of Rome and its Empire. That decree takes hold in the decade between 315 and 325 of the Common Era. In 325 the Council of Nicaea is summoned into session not by any cleric but by the Emperor.
This is, of course, the council which publishes the Nicene Creed. Constantine assumed a unified creed would produce a unified church and help unify the Empire. In that sense the writing of the Creed was a political act.
But the Creed did not really unify the church, nor was it meant to unify the church by those who wrote it. In fact, the Creed was composed to embody a broad understanding of Christianity.
Today we do not often acknowledge this truth about the Creed: it allows for a range of interpretation. As the Creed embodies a broad understanding of Christianity it, therefore, did not encourage a unity of belief in the Empire.
The political unity which did happen in that era came about more because Constantine enforced Council edicts— Constantine, the State, enforced council edicts. Among the most important of those edicts was no the Creed but was the adoption of the Roman Secular Calendar which moved the church away from the Lunar Calendar. In short, the State could only emphasize politics and practicality. Belief was a completely different matter. [1] (Slight pause.)
I’m trying to illustrate a simple idea here. What was true early on is still true today: the church is not a monolith. All church is local. All church is based in the local community.
That brings up the second and perhaps simpler question: what, or rather, who is a saint? John the XXIII and John Paul the II may or may not have been special people. But being special is not the actual church definition of a saint.
A saint is a person set aside by God to do the work and the will of God. And, God willing [the pastor leaves the pulpit, heads toward the congregation and points to different people in the congregation one by one], you are a saint and you are a saint and you are a saint and you are a saint. [The pastor returns to the front of the enter isle and says this:] We are all saints set aside by God to do the work and the will of God gathered in community, gathered in the local church. (Slight pause.)
These words are from that Gospel according to the School of John: “Then Jesus said, ‘As Abba God has sent me, so I am sending you.’ After saying this, Jesus breathed on them and said: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” (Slight pause as the pastor returns to the pulpit.)
When this reading was introduced it was noted the story names those in the room as disciples. These people were not just the leadership. This was the community. To use another word, these were the saints— people set aside by God to do the work and the will of God gathered in community. (Slight pause.)
Next, it needs to be noted the risen Christ repeats a phrase three times. “Peace be with you.”
The peace of God does not mean the absence of conflict. The peace of God acknowledges that the presence of God is real. Hence, “Peace be with you” repeated three times is meant to emphasize the reality of the presence of God. So the reality of the presence of God is affirmed by the risen Christ among the saints, the gathered community.
Once that is acknowledged, Christ says “As Abba God has sent me, so I am sending you.” (Slight pause.) For what are we, the saints, being sent? Are we being sent to conquer the world, to convert all humanity, to be empire? (Slight pause.)
Perhaps that would be the goal if the community of saints consisted of only the leadership of the Roman Empire. Conquest was, you see, the only goal of the Roman Empire. Conquest is, you see, the only goal of any empire.
Conquest is not the goal of the gathered local community, the saints. Conquest is not the goal of the church. (Slight pause.) So, what might be the goal of the gathered community of saints? Why and for what are we, the saints, being sent? (Slight pause.)
Later in the reading the risen Christ says this: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” I think we often mis-read these words.
And the reason we mis-read them is we do often think in terms of empire, we do think in terms of the church as monolith, as institution. Therefore, we tend read these words as if Christ has offered us some kind of universal power to forgive or to not forgive all humanity. That reading seems somewhat presumptions, does it not? That kind of reading seems to presume the church is empire.
When we read these words carefully and in the context of the community gathered and in the context of the saints gathered, what do we see? First, Christ is addressing the gathered community of saints. Second, Christ proclaims the presence of God and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” No small thing— that.
Then comes the words about forgiving and retaining. I am well convinced these words apply to the gathered community, to those sitting near us and next to us. I am well convinced these words apply to forgiving one another, to forgiving those we know.
You see, I am well convinced all church is local. I am well convinced the church is not about empire. (Slight pause.) I am well convinced the local church has no business as grandiose as forgiving or retaining anything unless we can forgive the saints right in this meeting house. And I think that’s what Jesus was saying.
After all, the one who is not there the first time— Didymus, Thomas— well, Thomas is going to need forgiveness. But it is not for doubting anything that Thomas will be in need of forgiveness. Thomas will be in need of forgiving for not trusting.
Which brings me to the last point. In the Greek the word for believe and the word for trust is the same— pistis. Belief is, you see, something we control. Either we believe something or we do not but we control that belief.
Trust, on the other hand, is something we do not control. Trust is something we surrender. And people who are connected to God trust God, surrender to God. People who are connected to God do not need to steer their own life, their own agenda.
People who are connected to God live in a state of grace, a state of trust. In short, those who hand themselves over to God, trust God. [2] (Slight pause.) Oh, yeah... that one’s not easy, either. (Slight pause.)
If you have heard me say this once, you have heard me say it a hundred times: the lesson found in the Bible can be summed up in four words: love God; love neighbor. Let me go even a little further than that, a little shorter than that. The lesson in the Bible can be summed up in two words: trust God. Amen.
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Last week— Easter Sunday— our Thought for Meditation was from Diana Butler Bass. She says this: ‘The point isn’t that you believe in the resurrection. Any fool can believe in a resurrection from the dead. The point is that you trust in the resurrection. And that’s much, much harder to do.’ Belief is, you see a fairly low bar. Trust... that’s another story.”
BENEDICTION: Go out in the strength and love God provides. Praise the deeds of God by the way you live, by the way you love. And may the steadfast love of God and the peace of Christ, which surpasses understanding, keep our minds and hearts in the companionship and will of the Holy Spirit, this day and forever more. Amen.
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantine_the_Great
[2] http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Richard-Rohr-s-Meditation--Let-Go-of-Control--Let-God-s-Life-Flow.html?soid=1103098668616&aid=waK7AgKxdW8
Being Sent
“Then Jesus said, ‘As Abba God has sent me, so I am sending you.’ After saying this, Jesus breathed on them and said: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” — John 20:21b-22.
Today, this very morning— and you may know about this or have seen a story about it— today Pope Francis will hold a ceremony or has held a ceremony at which two Papal predecessors will be Canonized, declared Saints of the church. The new saints are John the XXIII and John Paul the II.
When something like this happens, when some church function with high visibility happens, be it in the Roman Church or another church, say Rick Warren’s Church, I believe the lens through which most people see these events focuses our view in such a way that we tend to see church as monolith. Put another way, when highly visible church events happen our tendency is to see the church both as a much more universal and a much more unified institution than either today’s reality or the reality of the record we find in history suggests.
Hence, today’s events lead me to ask two questions: ‘what is church?’ and ‘who is a saint?’ Put differently: ‘how do we define church’ and ‘how do we define sainthood?’
For starters, let me tackle the ‘what is church?’ question. (Slight pause.) First, for those of us in the Congregational tradition, the one thing we should never say (although I sometimes do find myself saying it) is using the word church to mean building.
This building is not a church. This building is a meeting house. The people are the church. In the Hebrew Scriptures the assembly or the congregation is the term used and it always refers to the people, not to a structure, not even an institution.
Next, today people often assume the early church was much more unified, more organized, more universal, more monolithic than that aforementioned record we find in history suggests. But in the first four centuries after the resurrection the church was very local and not very organized. Yes, there was a hierarchy with Bishops. But it was a local hierarchy. Each Bishop was in charge of their own see, their own area, their own territory.
In the early church each area often held different beliefs and even had different collections of what we, today, call Scripture— for the first four centuries! In short, beyond the local area top-down oversight and/or a broad sense of unity simply did not exist. The church was a bottom-up operation.
Some degree of unity does come into the picture when Constantine declares Christianity the official state religion of Rome and its Empire. That decree takes hold in the decade between 315 and 325 of the Common Era. In 325 the Council of Nicaea is summoned into session not by any cleric but by the Emperor.
This is, of course, the council which publishes the Nicene Creed. Constantine assumed a unified creed would produce a unified church and help unify the Empire. In that sense the writing of the Creed was a political act.
But the Creed did not really unify the church, nor was it meant to unify the church by those who wrote it. In fact, the Creed was composed to embody a broad understanding of Christianity.
Today we do not often acknowledge this truth about the Creed: it allows for a range of interpretation. As the Creed embodies a broad understanding of Christianity it, therefore, did not encourage a unity of belief in the Empire.
The political unity which did happen in that era came about more because Constantine enforced Council edicts— Constantine, the State, enforced council edicts. Among the most important of those edicts was no the Creed but was the adoption of the Roman Secular Calendar which moved the church away from the Lunar Calendar. In short, the State could only emphasize politics and practicality. Belief was a completely different matter. [1] (Slight pause.)
I’m trying to illustrate a simple idea here. What was true early on is still true today: the church is not a monolith. All church is local. All church is based in the local community.
That brings up the second and perhaps simpler question: what, or rather, who is a saint? John the XXIII and John Paul the II may or may not have been special people. But being special is not the actual church definition of a saint.
A saint is a person set aside by God to do the work and the will of God. And, God willing [the pastor leaves the pulpit, heads toward the congregation and points to different people in the congregation one by one], you are a saint and you are a saint and you are a saint and you are a saint. [The pastor returns to the front of the enter isle and says this:] We are all saints set aside by God to do the work and the will of God gathered in community, gathered in the local church. (Slight pause.)
These words are from that Gospel according to the School of John: “Then Jesus said, ‘As Abba God has sent me, so I am sending you.’ After saying this, Jesus breathed on them and said: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” (Slight pause as the pastor returns to the pulpit.)
When this reading was introduced it was noted the story names those in the room as disciples. These people were not just the leadership. This was the community. To use another word, these were the saints— people set aside by God to do the work and the will of God gathered in community. (Slight pause.)
Next, it needs to be noted the risen Christ repeats a phrase three times. “Peace be with you.”
The peace of God does not mean the absence of conflict. The peace of God acknowledges that the presence of God is real. Hence, “Peace be with you” repeated three times is meant to emphasize the reality of the presence of God. So the reality of the presence of God is affirmed by the risen Christ among the saints, the gathered community.
Once that is acknowledged, Christ says “As Abba God has sent me, so I am sending you.” (Slight pause.) For what are we, the saints, being sent? Are we being sent to conquer the world, to convert all humanity, to be empire? (Slight pause.)
Perhaps that would be the goal if the community of saints consisted of only the leadership of the Roman Empire. Conquest was, you see, the only goal of the Roman Empire. Conquest is, you see, the only goal of any empire.
Conquest is not the goal of the gathered local community, the saints. Conquest is not the goal of the church. (Slight pause.) So, what might be the goal of the gathered community of saints? Why and for what are we, the saints, being sent? (Slight pause.)
Later in the reading the risen Christ says this: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” I think we often mis-read these words.
And the reason we mis-read them is we do often think in terms of empire, we do think in terms of the church as monolith, as institution. Therefore, we tend read these words as if Christ has offered us some kind of universal power to forgive or to not forgive all humanity. That reading seems somewhat presumptions, does it not? That kind of reading seems to presume the church is empire.
When we read these words carefully and in the context of the community gathered and in the context of the saints gathered, what do we see? First, Christ is addressing the gathered community of saints. Second, Christ proclaims the presence of God and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” No small thing— that.
Then comes the words about forgiving and retaining. I am well convinced these words apply to the gathered community, to those sitting near us and next to us. I am well convinced these words apply to forgiving one another, to forgiving those we know.
You see, I am well convinced all church is local. I am well convinced the church is not about empire. (Slight pause.) I am well convinced the local church has no business as grandiose as forgiving or retaining anything unless we can forgive the saints right in this meeting house. And I think that’s what Jesus was saying.
After all, the one who is not there the first time— Didymus, Thomas— well, Thomas is going to need forgiveness. But it is not for doubting anything that Thomas will be in need of forgiveness. Thomas will be in need of forgiving for not trusting.
Which brings me to the last point. In the Greek the word for believe and the word for trust is the same— pistis. Belief is, you see, something we control. Either we believe something or we do not but we control that belief.
Trust, on the other hand, is something we do not control. Trust is something we surrender. And people who are connected to God trust God, surrender to God. People who are connected to God do not need to steer their own life, their own agenda.
People who are connected to God live in a state of grace, a state of trust. In short, those who hand themselves over to God, trust God. [2] (Slight pause.) Oh, yeah... that one’s not easy, either. (Slight pause.)
If you have heard me say this once, you have heard me say it a hundred times: the lesson found in the Bible can be summed up in four words: love God; love neighbor. Let me go even a little further than that, a little shorter than that. The lesson in the Bible can be summed up in two words: trust God. Amen.
ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Last week— Easter Sunday— our Thought for Meditation was from Diana Butler Bass. She says this: ‘The point isn’t that you believe in the resurrection. Any fool can believe in a resurrection from the dead. The point is that you trust in the resurrection. And that’s much, much harder to do.’ Belief is, you see a fairly low bar. Trust... that’s another story.”
BENEDICTION: Go out in the strength and love God provides. Praise the deeds of God by the way you live, by the way you love. And may the steadfast love of God and the peace of Christ, which surpasses understanding, keep our minds and hearts in the companionship and will of the Holy Spirit, this day and forever more. Amen.
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantine_the_Great
[2] http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Richard-Rohr-s-Meditation--Let-Go-of-Control--Let-God-s-Life-Flow.html?soid=1103098668616&aid=waK7AgKxdW8
Sunday, April 20, 2014
SERMON ~ 04/20/2014 ~ The Feast of the Resurrection ~ “Poetry, Perhaps”
04/20/2014 ~ Resurrection of the Christ ~ Easter Day ~ More Appropriately Known as The Feast of the Resurrection ~ Acts 10:34-43 or Jeremiah 31:1-6; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; Colossians 3:1-4 or Acts 10:34-43; John 20:1-18 or Matthew 28:1-10 ~ Used 1 Corinthians 15:3-7 and John 20:1-18.
Poetry, Perhaps
“Jesus then said, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to Abba, ascended to God. Rather, go to the sisters and brothers and tell them I am ascending to Abba, to my God and your God.’” — John 20:17.
This is a poem Mary of Magdala [1] wrote when she came to understand she was called to write poetry and when she understood what it means to be a poet.
At first there were shadows.
Then it was night...
simply night.
The light came next.
But it was not visible light,
not light one saw.
It was light,
however,
which seemed to sear the soul—
sear the soul with its intensity,
sear the soul with
the length of its presence,
sear the soul with
a sense of its purpose,
sear the soul
because it felt
so unwavering in its reality.
It was light
which could be felt.
But it was light not seen.
It was light hidden
in plain sight. (Pause.)
Mags’ sleep that night— all her friends called her Mags because she was from the town of Magdala— Mags’ sleep that night was... restless. There were dreams.
There were dreams of long forgotten memories; there were dreams about shadows; there were dreams about light. Were she conscious, were she awake, she would have realized there was nothing in the dreams which made total sense. They were ambiguous yet precise. She slept— a sleep crowded with dreams. (Slight pause.)
Mags sat up suddenly, fully awake, sweating, gasping for air. She moved to stand and felt the age of her bones complaining about the effort. But stand she did.
She lifted a finger and scratched behind her ear as she wondered why the dreams had returned after they had been absent for so many years. Perhaps the dreams returned because she seemed to be writing less poetry these days. The truth is the events in these dreams were both a reality singed in her memory and yet distant, somehow disconnected. But still, they were all connected by one thing: poetry. (Slight pause.)
After realizing it was too early to rise, Mags once again rested on the side of the bed. As she sat in silence the memories of that time some thirty years ago erupted within her. There was the dinner with friends. After that they traveled to a garden and Jesus went off to find a quite place to pray.
Then, suddenly, a strange combination of Roman soldiers along with Temple guards were swarming all around them. Roman soldiers and Temple guards never cooperated with one another and yet here they were— together. It made no sense.
And they found Jesus and took the Rabbi away. Why were they interested in Jesus, a Rabbi— a Rabbi who preached about love? It made no sense.
And then... and then the next day— that dreadful day— they executed Jesus. Not that executing a Jew was abnormal. Hundreds of Jews were killed by the Romans every day. Hundreds of Jews were crucified by the Romans every day.
But Jesus was her friend. And she had watched while her friend was murdered. (Slight pause.) It hurt. (Slight pause.) It... made... no... sense. (Slight pause.)
She was thankful for Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph was a Pharisee. Joseph was wealthy. Joseph owned a fresh hewn tomb. Joseph took charge. The Rabbi was buried in the fresh hewn tomb. (Slight pause.)
After the Sabbath, early in the morning, Mags went to the tomb and saw the stone had been removed. She ran, she went to Simon and said, “The Rabbi has been taken from of the tomb!” (Pause.)
To this day she could not explain what happened after that. Jesus was there. The Rabbi was present to her. Mere words failed when Mags tried to speak about what happened, about a presence which seemed to sear the soul with its intensity, sear the soul because of its unwavering reality, sear the soul with a light that could be felt even though it was a light not seen, a light hidden in plain sight. (Pause.)
Time passed. Years passed. Then one day, she realized there were words she could use, words with which she could speak about those days. These words existed. And she started to write... poetry.
Poetry— a way of knowing, of expressing the possibility of grace. Poetry— a way of describing that which cannot be described. Poetry— the only language which broke the bonds of the finite and allowed a glimpse of the infinite.
And so she wrote. (Slight pause.) Over the years of composing, among the many poems she wrote, this is the one Mags liked the best. (Slight pause.)
I am dreaming, perhaps.
I am dreaming... of a time
which happened
and a time yet to come, perhaps.
I am dreaming
of the present, perhaps.
I am dreaming
of a reality unknowable,
a life unthinkable, perhaps,
a dream grounded
on groundless ground, perhaps.
The Presence Who
radically opened the present,
exposed its flaws and its truths,
its complexity and its simplicity
its longing and its fulfillment
is here, is now, is real, perhaps.
Proof of the Presence
seems lacking in faith, perhaps;
for proof of what is believed
seems to, perhaps, not care
for what is truly true,
for what is truly,
deeply believed,
deeply real, perhaps.
So perhaps, by insisting
I know that I do not know
what I really know,
what I really need to know
I can more fully know.
And what is it
I perhaps do not know—
that which is in reality known?
The Presence is real.
The Presence lives,
The Presence promises
to love forever...
and loving, perhaps, forever
is the reality of life.
(Slight pause.) How many years had it been? Thirty, at least. And this she knew: the Presence, the Rabbi, Jesus, was still there, still at her side.
And she wrote poetry about it. Why? Yes, the reality, the Presence was real but that’s not the reason she wrote. She wrote because perhaps she knew the ambiguous yet precise language of love exists in poetry. Amen.
04/20/2014
Easter Sunday — A.K.A. The Feast of the Resurrection
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I am sure the well known American composer Irving Berlin was a nice fellow. I hold nothing against him. Among other works, he wrote the songs Easter Parade and It’s a Lovely Day, Happy Easter. But these are not Christian sentiments. These are secular sentiments. If someone walks up to you today and says, ‘Happy Easter’ shake their hand and say, ‘Christ is risen.’
BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing and then please join with me in the responsive Easter acclamation found in the bulletin: May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the love of Christ, Jesus, and in the knowledge of the Holy Spirit this day and forever.
ONE: Rejoice, people of God! Christ is risen from the dead! Go in peace to love and serve God. Christ is with you always. Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
MANY: Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!
[1] Mary Magdalene is at best a bad translation of that name. Mary of Magdala is a more appropriate rendering of it.
Poetry, Perhaps
“Jesus then said, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to Abba, ascended to God. Rather, go to the sisters and brothers and tell them I am ascending to Abba, to my God and your God.’” — John 20:17.
This is a poem Mary of Magdala [1] wrote when she came to understand she was called to write poetry and when she understood what it means to be a poet.
At first there were shadows.
Then it was night...
simply night.
The light came next.
But it was not visible light,
not light one saw.
It was light,
however,
which seemed to sear the soul—
sear the soul with its intensity,
sear the soul with
the length of its presence,
sear the soul with
a sense of its purpose,
sear the soul
because it felt
so unwavering in its reality.
It was light
which could be felt.
But it was light not seen.
It was light hidden
in plain sight. (Pause.)
Mags’ sleep that night— all her friends called her Mags because she was from the town of Magdala— Mags’ sleep that night was... restless. There were dreams.
There were dreams of long forgotten memories; there were dreams about shadows; there were dreams about light. Were she conscious, were she awake, she would have realized there was nothing in the dreams which made total sense. They were ambiguous yet precise. She slept— a sleep crowded with dreams. (Slight pause.)
Mags sat up suddenly, fully awake, sweating, gasping for air. She moved to stand and felt the age of her bones complaining about the effort. But stand she did.
She lifted a finger and scratched behind her ear as she wondered why the dreams had returned after they had been absent for so many years. Perhaps the dreams returned because she seemed to be writing less poetry these days. The truth is the events in these dreams were both a reality singed in her memory and yet distant, somehow disconnected. But still, they were all connected by one thing: poetry. (Slight pause.)
After realizing it was too early to rise, Mags once again rested on the side of the bed. As she sat in silence the memories of that time some thirty years ago erupted within her. There was the dinner with friends. After that they traveled to a garden and Jesus went off to find a quite place to pray.
Then, suddenly, a strange combination of Roman soldiers along with Temple guards were swarming all around them. Roman soldiers and Temple guards never cooperated with one another and yet here they were— together. It made no sense.
And they found Jesus and took the Rabbi away. Why were they interested in Jesus, a Rabbi— a Rabbi who preached about love? It made no sense.
And then... and then the next day— that dreadful day— they executed Jesus. Not that executing a Jew was abnormal. Hundreds of Jews were killed by the Romans every day. Hundreds of Jews were crucified by the Romans every day.
But Jesus was her friend. And she had watched while her friend was murdered. (Slight pause.) It hurt. (Slight pause.) It... made... no... sense. (Slight pause.)
She was thankful for Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph was a Pharisee. Joseph was wealthy. Joseph owned a fresh hewn tomb. Joseph took charge. The Rabbi was buried in the fresh hewn tomb. (Slight pause.)
After the Sabbath, early in the morning, Mags went to the tomb and saw the stone had been removed. She ran, she went to Simon and said, “The Rabbi has been taken from of the tomb!” (Pause.)
To this day she could not explain what happened after that. Jesus was there. The Rabbi was present to her. Mere words failed when Mags tried to speak about what happened, about a presence which seemed to sear the soul with its intensity, sear the soul because of its unwavering reality, sear the soul with a light that could be felt even though it was a light not seen, a light hidden in plain sight. (Pause.)
Time passed. Years passed. Then one day, she realized there were words she could use, words with which she could speak about those days. These words existed. And she started to write... poetry.
Poetry— a way of knowing, of expressing the possibility of grace. Poetry— a way of describing that which cannot be described. Poetry— the only language which broke the bonds of the finite and allowed a glimpse of the infinite.
And so she wrote. (Slight pause.) Over the years of composing, among the many poems she wrote, this is the one Mags liked the best. (Slight pause.)
I am dreaming, perhaps.
I am dreaming... of a time
which happened
and a time yet to come, perhaps.
I am dreaming
of the present, perhaps.
I am dreaming
of a reality unknowable,
a life unthinkable, perhaps,
a dream grounded
on groundless ground, perhaps.
The Presence Who
radically opened the present,
exposed its flaws and its truths,
its complexity and its simplicity
its longing and its fulfillment
is here, is now, is real, perhaps.
Proof of the Presence
seems lacking in faith, perhaps;
for proof of what is believed
seems to, perhaps, not care
for what is truly true,
for what is truly,
deeply believed,
deeply real, perhaps.
So perhaps, by insisting
I know that I do not know
what I really know,
what I really need to know
I can more fully know.
And what is it
I perhaps do not know—
that which is in reality known?
The Presence is real.
The Presence lives,
The Presence promises
to love forever...
and loving, perhaps, forever
is the reality of life.
(Slight pause.) How many years had it been? Thirty, at least. And this she knew: the Presence, the Rabbi, Jesus, was still there, still at her side.
And she wrote poetry about it. Why? Yes, the reality, the Presence was real but that’s not the reason she wrote. She wrote because perhaps she knew the ambiguous yet precise language of love exists in poetry. Amen.
04/20/2014
Easter Sunday — A.K.A. The Feast of the Resurrection
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I am sure the well known American composer Irving Berlin was a nice fellow. I hold nothing against him. Among other works, he wrote the songs Easter Parade and It’s a Lovely Day, Happy Easter. But these are not Christian sentiments. These are secular sentiments. If someone walks up to you today and says, ‘Happy Easter’ shake their hand and say, ‘Christ is risen.’
BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing and then please join with me in the responsive Easter acclamation found in the bulletin: May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the love of Christ, Jesus, and in the knowledge of the Holy Spirit this day and forever.
ONE: Rejoice, people of God! Christ is risen from the dead! Go in peace to love and serve God. Christ is with you always. Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
MANY: Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!
[1] Mary Magdalene is at best a bad translation of that name. Mary of Magdala is a more appropriate rendering of it.
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