03/13/2016 ~ Fifth Sunday in Lent ~ Isaiah 43:16-21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3:4b-14; John 12:1-8.
The Future
“Beloved— sisters and brothers— I do not consider that I have made it my own; I do not think that I have reached the finish line. But this one thing I do: I give no thought to what lies behind; I forget what lies behind. I strain, I push forward on to what lies ahead.” — Philippians 3:13.
As I think and hope you all know, after the service today we will have a soup and bread lunch. Do not worry if you forgot to bring something for that meal or didn’t bring something for that meal. Believe me, there is enough to go around. I’ve looked.
At 12:30 that lunch will be followed by Adventures with Bonnie and Joe. Adventures with Bonnie and Joe is the report from my sabbatical, our trip across country and back, a trip we made between the end of last June and the end of September. And, even if you don’t stay for the lunch, do come back for that. We will start no earlier than 12:30. O.K.? So, if your not staying for lunch just come on back.
Now, last October, at the first service of worship I led after our return, I said when Bonnie and I were first married and going on a trip of some distance we’d get in the car and before Bonnie stepped on the gas— as many of you know when we were first married, since I arrived to the great State of Maine from the caverns of New York City I did not yet drive because Subways are the major mode of transportation in the city and I used them pretty exclusively— so, before Bonnie stepped on the gas we would look at each other and in unison say, ‘Adventures with Bonnie and Joe.’ And off we’d go: another adventure.
And so, On June 27th, last, when we left on our trip, we once again said to one another “Adventures with Bonnie and Joe.” So, if you are here for the presentation, you will hear about some of those adventures from encounters with Bison, to seeing a Major League Baseball game, to visiting the National Monument known as Devils Tower.
Since we are offering a report about the trip today, I want to point out a couple of things. First, I hope it’s evident that what we will offer is, in many ways, testimony. How so? We will talk about how educational, how interesting, how challenging, how enjoyable, how emotional, how engaging it all was— in short it was a great and useful experience.
But I want to also point out something else which should be obvious. The trip happened in the past. And yes, our memories of it are wonderful. They will linger with us until we leave the frail bonds of the time allotted to us.
But we cannot relive what happened. We cannot experience it again. Even if we went on another trip, it could be only similar. It would not be the same.
Hence and by definition, to give testimony means to reflect on experience, to reflect on something which happened. Thereby, testimony does not address the future and only in a peripheral way touches on the present. Testimony deals with the past. That testimony deals with the past does not render the past or the testimony about it invalid or useless.
The past often can and often should be treasured. The past can teach amazing and valuable lessons as we move on. Perhaps the only danger with testimony is when we are insistent about dwelling in the past.... and refusing to relinquish it. Living in the past is not just unhealthy. It is dangerous. (Slight pause.)
And we find these words in the work known as Philippians: “Beloved— sisters and brothers— I do not consider that I have made it my own; I do not think that I have reached the finish line. But this one thing I do: I give no thought to what lies behind; I forget what lies behind. I strain, I push forward on to what lies ahead.” (Slight pause.)
When this reading was introduced it was said the way the little story of Paul’s life becomes meaningful is by its relation to the big story of God’s activity. Unlike many modern autobiographies, Paul’s story does not invite readers to do their own thing or to copy Paul but asks them, asks the readers, to see themselves in the light of the divine story.
To elaborate on that thought, this is an autobiography in three stages. There is a statement of Paul’s heritage, Paul’s religious location. In offering this reflection, the Apostle gives a reevaluation of that aforementioned religious location in light of the reality of the Christ. Then Paul insists the possibilities of the present abound because of the reality of the Christ.
Those two stages together express experience, express testimony. It is that testimony, that history which spurs Paul on and into a life of active anticipation. In fact, it needs to be noted Paul’s present possibilities are valid only if lived out into the future, only if lived in active anticipation.
And the life Paul strives to live out, is lived out in a future created by God, not a future determined by Paul. It is God’s future which beckons. Also and therefore, Paul’s story is unfinished, unsure. The denouement, the outcome, the result of Paul’s story has not yet arrived when Paul writes these words.
On top of that, I think we are also meant hear these with words a sense of our acceptance by God. How is that so? How is that acceptance, our acceptance by God, expressed by Paul? It is expressed in the testimony offered by Paul, his story, his history.
In fact, that is why Paul’s testimony, any testimony, is valid. Paul understands this very basic reality about God. God acts. It is God who reaches out to Paul.
And the point of the testimony offered by Paul is not just that God acts. It is that God has reached out to Paul. The point of the testimony is to proclaim that God reaches out to each of us, all of us. God accepts us, as we are, where we are. If that failed to be true, if God did not reach out to each of us, what would be the point of giving any testimony?
You see, if God did not reach out to each of us, testimony would be reduced to a set of self-centered statements. Testimony would become diminished to mere bragging. And, thereby, since bragging is self-centered, such testimony could not be about God.
Hence, everything which Paul recites as history, everything in this testimony, does not point toward the past, does not point toward self-centeredness, does not point toward individual experience. Rather, everything points toward God and toward the future. Everything points toward a future to which we are invited by God. (Slight pause.)
Sometimes the words I’m about to use are called the Eleventh Commandment of the church. Sometimes the words I’m about to use are called the seven last words of the church. “But we’ve never done it that way.”
I have a colleague who has two framed posters in her office. Once of them has that Eleventh Commandment, those seven last words: “But we’ve never done it that way.” Another has a more sober, more true assessment of reality. “We live in a world of constant change.”
I want to suggest no one, not myself, not you, not Paul can really prognosticate. None of us can predict the future. None of us can predict what the inevitable change— and we all know change will happen— none of us can predict what the inevitable change around us will bring with any certainty.
And, rumor to the contrary, predicting the future is not the point of theology. Predicting the future is not the point of living out one’s faith. Living into the future God has for us, living into the future God has for us and for those around us, for all humanity, Living into the future is the point living out one’s faith. (Slight pause.)
So, if you come to Adventures with Bonnie and Joe later today you will hear testimony. You will hear all about where we’ve been. But all testimony can do is inform us about where we were, where we’ve been.
Indeed, when Bonnie and I left on our trip we knew where we were going, or at least where we intended to go. But we did not know what would happen. We did not really know the future. And unless we use what happened to us to help us live into the future, God’s future, the testimony we offer will be trivial.
So, I think what Paul is getting at is not what I would call not a larger idea, or even a logical idea. But it is a theological idea, God centered logic. That theological idea is that God beckons us into an unknown future. At least it is unknown in terms of the kind of detail we often crave: where, how, why.
But there is one aspect of the future to which God beckons us that is both known and knowable. And that aspect is with Whom the future will happen. We are beckoned to walk toward the future with God.
We are beckoned to walk toward the future knowing God is both holy and good. We are beckoned to walk toward the future knowing that God walks with us, that God cherishes us, that God loves us. In that, our future is both known and assured. God loves us. Amen.
03/13/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “So, what is testimony, really? I think often we in the Main Line have an image of an Elmer Gantry preacher out there just giving testimony and it frightens us a little. If truth be told, testimony is simply being friendly. One of my mentors, the Rev. Carol Anderson, used to say we Americans are strange. We read a book, see a movie or TV show we like and what do we do? We share it. We tell a friend about it. In so doing we are simply being friendly. When we have a community of faith we like what do we do? [The pastor puts hand to mouth and makes several muffled sounds.] Doesn’t make a lot of sense does it? Testimony is simply being friendly. That’s all it is.”
BENEDICTION: In Christ, we experience God’s presence together. Where Christ leads, let us follow. Where God calls us to service, let us go. And may the peace of God which surpasses all understanding keep our hearts and minds in the knowledge of God, the love of Jesus, the Christ, and the companionship of the Holy Spirit, this day and forevermore. Amen.
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Sunday, March 6, 2016
SERMON ~ 03/06/2016 ~ “Them and Us”
03/06/2016 ~ Fourth Sunday in Lent ~ Joshua 5:9-12; Psalm 32; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 ~ Communion Sunday.
Them and Us
“So this makes us ambassadors for Christ, since God is making an appeal directly through us. Therefore, we entreat and implore you on behalf of Christ, and in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God.” — 2 Corinthians 5:20.
When I was very young, my family lived in Brooklyn in the kind of house that was, both then and now, called a railroad flat. It gets that odd name because these houses are long and quite narrow, like a railroad car. Part of what gave a railroad flat a railroad car kind of look to its interior design was the fact that it was built on only half a city lot.
Generally, a typical lot size in Brooklyn was 23 feet wide. Therefore, half a lot was eleven and a half feet. And two of these railroad flats houses fit on a single 23 foot wide lot. The two house addresses on a lot would, hence and for instance, be 74 A Schaefer Street and 74 B Schaefer Street, each house taking up half a lot number 74— section A and section B.
All the railroad flat houses on an entire street were connected, side by side— no spaces in between. Once you subtract the thickness of the walls on each side that drops the useable width, the room width in any one railroad flat, to under eleven feet wide.
And, since the useable space was under eleven feet that poses the obvious question about railroad cars: how wide is an Amtrak car? About 10 feet, two inches— long and narrow— so you can see how the railroad flat got its name.
Under eleven feet is not a lot of living space. And the kitchens were really tiny— New York City kitchens— really tiny. The one in the house of my youth was crammed into what could only be called a cubby hole off a dinning room. It had a stove, a sink and cabinets all squeezed into it.
Well, when I was young one of the chores often assigned in rotation to myself, my brother and my sister was helping my mother do the dishes. Being the oldest, I was the first one who could actually help my mother do this. So once, when I was maybe six or seven and helping her (because I would have been the doing that at this point), I was standing on a stool over the sink washing. She was drying.
I am not sure how this happened, but at one point she lifted a large, cast iron frying pan out of the drying rack. It suddenly slipped from her hands and landed on her foot— the big toe of her left foot to be precise.
Good Irish Catholic woman that she was, she did not curse. However, I do remember her jumping up and down in place on the good foot because of the pain and the words “Jesus, Mary and Joseph” escaping from her lips. (If no one has ever told you this, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph” is what passes as a curse from a good Irish Catholic woman.)
I know she went to the doctor right away, since I went to the doctor with her. The doctor had to remove the nail on her big toe. And the nail was never the same. It eventually grew back but always looked ugly, bumpy, twisted.
Now, the reason I’m telling this story is my impressionable young brain somehow absorbed this incident, this accident, as being my fault. I was standing there! It must have been my fault!
I somehow translated what happened to my mother as my having caused her to drop the heavy pan on her toe. And not only did I think it was my fault. I became convinced that she would never forgive me.
Neither of those things were, of course, true. It is simply what I perceived to be true. (Slight pause.)
Well, one day when I was in my mid-thirties and talking with my mother, I mentioned this incident. Then I told her I realized the accident was my fault and, at this late date, I wanted to say I was sorry.
She looked at me like I had just landed in a spaceship from Mars. “I dropped the pan on my own foot,” she said. “You... had nothing to do with it.”
“But, but...” I stammered, “you took me to the doctor with you. That’s one reason I thought it was my fault.”
“I took you with me to the doctor for two reasons,” she insisted. “I did not want to burden your grandmother with all three of you at once and if I had fainted dead away on the street from pain at least you were old enough to have asked someone for help.” (Slight pause.)
One wonders, of course, why I felt both culpable and unforgiven. Well, as I said, I was young. I was impressionable. And the truth is, a lack of maturity can contribute to a total misreading of reality. (Slight pause.)
These words are found in Second Corinthians: “So this makes us ambassadors for Christ, since God is making an appeal directly through us. Therefore, we entreat and implore you on behalf of Christ, and in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God.” (Slight pause.)
Nothing may be more difficult for Christians in North America in the early Twenty-first Century than adopting the new way of discernment— Paul’s way of discernment— which is inherent in the message of Scripture. Part of that discernment has this basic truth: the old categories— race, gender, social status— all of which Paul references earlier in Second Corinthians— the old categories have become obsolete when it comes to judging people.
It seems obvious to me these categories— used in Paul’s day as well as our own— these categories— race, gender, social status— and others, are, in fact, how people judge. And yet, the message offered is stunningly clear. With God there are no categories. With God there is no them and us. The message is plain, simple: be reconciled to God.
Further, God acts to shape a new creation out of the chaos of alienation, estrangement, which frankly we can feel around us. What is, to use the same words again— stunningly clear, stunningly clear— is that the love of God knows no limitations. (Slight pause.)
In that Fifteenth Chapter of Luke we hear three parables. It has become an unfortunate traditional that some Bibles print headings for different sections, especially parables.
I say it’s unfortunate we get these headings because the headings are not part of the underlying text. Indeed, the translators of the text do not put these headings in. The decision which places these headings in Bibles are made by editors and publishers.
For the casual reader the headings may make stories easier to find. But they can also leave an inaccurate impression as to the nature of the stories.
Among these three parables in the Fifteenth Chapter each is often seen with the following headings: The Parable of the Lost Sheep, The Parable of the Lost Coin, The Parable of the Prodigal Son. But, again, those titles imply what is at best an inaccurate assessment of the stories.
If one was to continue with the ill advised practice of placing headings in the text but named these stories more accurately, the appropriate titles might be: The Parable of the Diligent Housekeeper, The Parable of the Passionate Shepherd, The Parable of the Loving Parent. I want to suggest just seeing the parables in a way which reflects what they really say changes our whole perspective on their meaning. And their meaning is not about us being lost. Their meaning is about God who loves.
And their meaning is not just that the love of God knows no limitations. Their meaning is that God acts and God acts first. God actively seeks to be reconciled with us.
That brings me back to the story of the interaction I had with my mother and the misconception under which I labored for thirty or so years. I thought I was both culpable and unforgiven. Well, I was young, impressionable. And the truth is a lack of maturity can contribute to misreading.
And I think part of our problem today is we, as a society, read Scripture in a way that lacks maturity. So, the question with which that thought presents us is straightforward: can we discern what Scripture actually says or does the culture in which we live inhibit us? Does the culture in which we live entice to read Scripture in an immature way?
After all, what Scripture says is both clear and runs counter to a cultural message we encounter on a daily basis— a cultural message of fear. What Scripture says is the love of God knows no limitations. What Scripture says is God actively seeks to be reconciled with us. What Scripture says is God wants us to be reconciled with one another. Amen.
03/06/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
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: “There is, of course, one thing in the words of this passage which really frightens us. It is that we are (quote:) “entrusted us with this message of reconciliation.” This frightens us because the clear implication is that we must spread that word, share that word. But Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson says this: ‘It’s funny that you can preach a judgmental and vengeful and angry God and nobody will mind. But when you start preaching a God that is too accepting, too loving too forgiving, too merciful, too kind you are in trouble.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us seek to love as we have been loved by God, welcoming our brothers and sisters. Let us rejoice in God’s goodness and steadfast love. Let us follow where God leads. Let us go on our way with Christ as our companion. 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.
Them and Us
“So this makes us ambassadors for Christ, since God is making an appeal directly through us. Therefore, we entreat and implore you on behalf of Christ, and in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God.” — 2 Corinthians 5:20.
When I was very young, my family lived in Brooklyn in the kind of house that was, both then and now, called a railroad flat. It gets that odd name because these houses are long and quite narrow, like a railroad car. Part of what gave a railroad flat a railroad car kind of look to its interior design was the fact that it was built on only half a city lot.
Generally, a typical lot size in Brooklyn was 23 feet wide. Therefore, half a lot was eleven and a half feet. And two of these railroad flats houses fit on a single 23 foot wide lot. The two house addresses on a lot would, hence and for instance, be 74 A Schaefer Street and 74 B Schaefer Street, each house taking up half a lot number 74— section A and section B.
All the railroad flat houses on an entire street were connected, side by side— no spaces in between. Once you subtract the thickness of the walls on each side that drops the useable width, the room width in any one railroad flat, to under eleven feet wide.
And, since the useable space was under eleven feet that poses the obvious question about railroad cars: how wide is an Amtrak car? About 10 feet, two inches— long and narrow— so you can see how the railroad flat got its name.
Under eleven feet is not a lot of living space. And the kitchens were really tiny— New York City kitchens— really tiny. The one in the house of my youth was crammed into what could only be called a cubby hole off a dinning room. It had a stove, a sink and cabinets all squeezed into it.
Well, when I was young one of the chores often assigned in rotation to myself, my brother and my sister was helping my mother do the dishes. Being the oldest, I was the first one who could actually help my mother do this. So once, when I was maybe six or seven and helping her (because I would have been the doing that at this point), I was standing on a stool over the sink washing. She was drying.
I am not sure how this happened, but at one point she lifted a large, cast iron frying pan out of the drying rack. It suddenly slipped from her hands and landed on her foot— the big toe of her left foot to be precise.
Good Irish Catholic woman that she was, she did not curse. However, I do remember her jumping up and down in place on the good foot because of the pain and the words “Jesus, Mary and Joseph” escaping from her lips. (If no one has ever told you this, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph” is what passes as a curse from a good Irish Catholic woman.)
I know she went to the doctor right away, since I went to the doctor with her. The doctor had to remove the nail on her big toe. And the nail was never the same. It eventually grew back but always looked ugly, bumpy, twisted.
Now, the reason I’m telling this story is my impressionable young brain somehow absorbed this incident, this accident, as being my fault. I was standing there! It must have been my fault!
I somehow translated what happened to my mother as my having caused her to drop the heavy pan on her toe. And not only did I think it was my fault. I became convinced that she would never forgive me.
Neither of those things were, of course, true. It is simply what I perceived to be true. (Slight pause.)
Well, one day when I was in my mid-thirties and talking with my mother, I mentioned this incident. Then I told her I realized the accident was my fault and, at this late date, I wanted to say I was sorry.
She looked at me like I had just landed in a spaceship from Mars. “I dropped the pan on my own foot,” she said. “You... had nothing to do with it.”
“But, but...” I stammered, “you took me to the doctor with you. That’s one reason I thought it was my fault.”
“I took you with me to the doctor for two reasons,” she insisted. “I did not want to burden your grandmother with all three of you at once and if I had fainted dead away on the street from pain at least you were old enough to have asked someone for help.” (Slight pause.)
One wonders, of course, why I felt both culpable and unforgiven. Well, as I said, I was young. I was impressionable. And the truth is, a lack of maturity can contribute to a total misreading of reality. (Slight pause.)
These words are found in Second Corinthians: “So this makes us ambassadors for Christ, since God is making an appeal directly through us. Therefore, we entreat and implore you on behalf of Christ, and in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God.” (Slight pause.)
Nothing may be more difficult for Christians in North America in the early Twenty-first Century than adopting the new way of discernment— Paul’s way of discernment— which is inherent in the message of Scripture. Part of that discernment has this basic truth: the old categories— race, gender, social status— all of which Paul references earlier in Second Corinthians— the old categories have become obsolete when it comes to judging people.
It seems obvious to me these categories— used in Paul’s day as well as our own— these categories— race, gender, social status— and others, are, in fact, how people judge. And yet, the message offered is stunningly clear. With God there are no categories. With God there is no them and us. The message is plain, simple: be reconciled to God.
Further, God acts to shape a new creation out of the chaos of alienation, estrangement, which frankly we can feel around us. What is, to use the same words again— stunningly clear, stunningly clear— is that the love of God knows no limitations. (Slight pause.)
In that Fifteenth Chapter of Luke we hear three parables. It has become an unfortunate traditional that some Bibles print headings for different sections, especially parables.
I say it’s unfortunate we get these headings because the headings are not part of the underlying text. Indeed, the translators of the text do not put these headings in. The decision which places these headings in Bibles are made by editors and publishers.
For the casual reader the headings may make stories easier to find. But they can also leave an inaccurate impression as to the nature of the stories.
Among these three parables in the Fifteenth Chapter each is often seen with the following headings: The Parable of the Lost Sheep, The Parable of the Lost Coin, The Parable of the Prodigal Son. But, again, those titles imply what is at best an inaccurate assessment of the stories.
If one was to continue with the ill advised practice of placing headings in the text but named these stories more accurately, the appropriate titles might be: The Parable of the Diligent Housekeeper, The Parable of the Passionate Shepherd, The Parable of the Loving Parent. I want to suggest just seeing the parables in a way which reflects what they really say changes our whole perspective on their meaning. And their meaning is not about us being lost. Their meaning is about God who loves.
And their meaning is not just that the love of God knows no limitations. Their meaning is that God acts and God acts first. God actively seeks to be reconciled with us.
That brings me back to the story of the interaction I had with my mother and the misconception under which I labored for thirty or so years. I thought I was both culpable and unforgiven. Well, I was young, impressionable. And the truth is a lack of maturity can contribute to misreading.
And I think part of our problem today is we, as a society, read Scripture in a way that lacks maturity. So, the question with which that thought presents us is straightforward: can we discern what Scripture actually says or does the culture in which we live inhibit us? Does the culture in which we live entice to read Scripture in an immature way?
After all, what Scripture says is both clear and runs counter to a cultural message we encounter on a daily basis— a cultural message of fear. What Scripture says is the love of God knows no limitations. What Scripture says is God actively seeks to be reconciled with us. What Scripture says is God wants us to be reconciled with one another. Amen.
03/06/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
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: “There is, of course, one thing in the words of this passage which really frightens us. It is that we are (quote:) “entrusted us with this message of reconciliation.” This frightens us because the clear implication is that we must spread that word, share that word. But Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson says this: ‘It’s funny that you can preach a judgmental and vengeful and angry God and nobody will mind. But when you start preaching a God that is too accepting, too loving too forgiving, too merciful, too kind you are in trouble.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us seek to love as we have been loved by God, welcoming our brothers and sisters. Let us rejoice in God’s goodness and steadfast love. Let us follow where God leads. Let us go on our way with Christ as our companion. 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.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
SERMON ~ 02/28/2016 ~ “The Ways of God”
02/28/2016 ~ Third Sunday in Lent ~ Isaiah 55:1-9; Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Luke 13:1-9.
The Ways of God
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, / so are my ways higher than your ways / and my thoughts than your thoughts.” — Isaiah 55:9.
Well, we are in the crazy season again. The crazy season— that’s what I call each year we have a national election— the crazy season. This one may be crazier than a lot of others.
My guess is no one else here has had an experience similar to mine when it comes to a national election. My experience starts with the fact that I was, as many of you have heard, a theater professional. As a consequence, I worked a lot of odd jobs in my time.
One of those odd jobs— a very odd job— was surveying potential voters for the Harris organization. I was one of those often spoken of but rarely spotted presidential poll takers. It was 1980, the year Ronald Regan ran against Jimmy Carter.
To be clear, I know I have told this story before, so I apologize to those who might remember it. Others will not remember it. And, since it fits the direction in which I’m going today, it’s hard to not reuse a good story. Now, in order to tell you this story about being a poll taker, I do need to let you know some items which are both standard and vital for professional polling.
First, there should not be too many questions. A good survey lasts no longer than five to seven minutes.
Questions need to be, therefore, short— multiple choice or yes and no responses. Multiple choice questions should offer no more than four possible answers. A good poll also gets demographic data: age, ethnicity, faith background, etc., etc., etc.
Paradoxically, it’s vital the individual with whom the poll taker makes contact gives their own answer, not an answer a poll taker assumes. You can’t put words in their mouths. That’s a paradox because the poll taker, obviously, offers all the answers— yes or no, A, B, C or D. But the person contacted must say those words, those answers, for themselves.
Last, all the questions need to be answered. If one question is not answered or answered with the words the poll taker supplied, all the answers are thrown out. They do not count. All these are considered industry standards.
Well, let me take you back to 1980 for a minute— Carter verses Regan. I dialed a random number. What makes it random? The poll taker is assigned an area code and the first three digits of the phone number. That locates the call in a specific region. What presumably ensures randomness is the poll taker makes up the last four numbers.
The area I dialed that night was in Alabama. One call stands out in my memory. The questions about presidential preference were successfully navigated.
That brought up the demographic questions. Using my best imitation of a nationally known televison broadcast journalist, I asked the standard question about faith tradition: “Are you Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or other.”
“I’m a Baptist,” was a response.
Now, as I said, the person being polled needs to say one of those four words I offered as an answer. I tried to rephrase the question. “Many people would say the Baptist tradition is a part of the group known as Protestants. ‘Are you a Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or other.’”
“I’m a Baptist.”
I said, “Some people think a Baptist should not be classified as a Protestant but should fall under the category called ‘other.’ ‘Are you a Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or other.’”
“I’m a Baptist.”
The consequence of that interaction is all the answers this person gave did not count. They were thrown out. The voice of that person was never included in the 1980 presidential poll taken by Harris. (Slight pause.)
These words are from the Scroll of the Prophet Isaiah, the second Prophet in the Scroll: “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, / so are my ways higher than your ways / and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Slight pause.)
Vince Amlin is a United Church of Christ pastor. In a recent blog post he spoke of a parishioner who asked: “What do you expect of me as a fellow church member?”
Amlin said he loved this question, first, because it reminded him that he is a people, a church member— a member with a specific office— but a member. Therefore, this person was not asking a minister about expectations. This person was asking the people around her, fellow theologians— and like it or not, if we profess a belief in God, any god, we are theologians— this person was asking her fellow theologians who happen to also be churchgoers what they expected of her.
Now that very question about expectation begins, perhaps somewhat uncomfortably, with expectations. You see, if I am a people, a member of a congregation, a member of any group— not just churches, any group— it means others in that group make claims on me. Others make a claim on my time, a claim on my resources and, especially in a church, a claim might be made on my heart.
They expect me, a people, to pray for their father who is diagnosed with dementia. They expect me, a people, to be gracious to their children, perhaps buy some cookies to support a school activity or scouts of different flavors. They expect me, a people, to make soup or to bake for a potluck.
And this might be the most terrifying aspect— they might expect me, a people, to expect things of them in return. Others might expect me to need their care. Others might expect me to invite their concern. Others might expect me to partake of their casseroles— Vince Amlin a pastor with the United Church of Christ. [1] (Slight pause.)
All that poses a provocative question: to what is God calling us? Is it membership of some form or another? Doesn’t membership break out into tribes, as in “I’m a Baptist?” (Slight pause.)
Mike Flanagan, an Episcopal priest offers a reflection on this. “When I became clergy, I was all about the worship, the liturgy being just right and good preaching.”
Today, says Flanagan, my role is helping people discern their callings, their talents and connecting those to the needs of both the parish and the surrounding community. Says Flanagan (quote:) “Membership is a passive term. I can be a member and do nothing.”
This Episcopal priest no longer refers to parishioners as members. Instead, he refers to them as disciples. Disciples— that’s not a passive word. [2] (Slight pause.)
Poet Maren Tirabassi recently wrote a poem called Lenten reflection — I’d like a church – make mine double. These are her words.
I know a church / that only embraces prodigals – / tech industry nones / or folks who live in their cars, / those who identify as gender non-conforming, / formerly incarcerated, / in recovery, post-evangelical, / lapsed, doubters or inked.
I know a church / that only celebrates long-timers, / the ones who CROP walk, / or teach Sunday School, / the ones who are life-deacons, / chaperone mission trips, / shovel snow, / visit nursing homes, / get wax out of / Christmas morning carpet.
What I want is — / a church like / the completely dysfunctional family / Jesus told stories about – / with the designated lover / always out on the road / to welcome in or argue back — / someone staggering from / a hit-and-run, / someone stuck in their ruts. [3] (Slight pause) Lenten reflection — I’d like a church – make mine a double by Maren Tirabassi.
That brings me back to Isaiah’s proclamation that the ways of God are not our ways. In part, I think Maren’s poem is getting at a truth that may also be uncomfortable: God’s ways are not our ways, especially in church.
To illustrate that I think we need to realize the verse about the ways of God not being our ways actually refers to the first words in this passage (quote:) “I call out to all who thirst: / come to the waters; / and you that have no money, / come, buy and eat! / Come, buy wine and milk / without money and without price.”
God’s ways are not about a transaction, about what we can purchase, what we can trade, about how much we have. God’s ways are not about the tribalism of groups, not about who we know. God’s ways are definitely not about what we know.
Therefore, I think this reality should help us focus on the term disciple. This is a definition. A dictionary definition: a disciple is someone who accepts and helps spread teachings. (Slight pause.)
Some basic teachings are both clear and are found in this passage. God abundantly and freely pardons. We are forgiven in the eyes of God.
God’s economy is all inclusive. This really is a free market. There are no transactions. You do not pay.
God’s club is all inclusive. Everyone is welcome. (Slight pause.) So, how can we, as disciples, spread that word about the ways of God?
A disciple will incorporate these ways into their own lives. That is the method by which disciples really teach. (Slight pause.)
You have heard me say this hundreds of times. These ideals can be summed up this way: love God; love neighbor. These are God’s ways. These are God’s thoughts. Amen.
02/28/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I want to leave you with a quote from Archbishop Desmond Tutu: “In the end it matters not how good we are but how good God is. It matters not how much we love God but how much God loves us. And God loves us whoever we are, whatever we’ve done or failed to do, whatever we believe or can’t believe.”
BENEDICTION: God’s steadfast love endures forever. Let us live our days offering thanks to God who feeds our souls. Let us go on our way with Christ as our companion. And may 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] Adapted for this context.
http://www.ucc.org/daily_devotional_raised_expectations
[2]
https://baptistnews.com/ministry/congregations/item/30951-trading-membership-for-discipleship-helping-churches-christians
[3] Posted on Maren Tirabassi’s Facebook page.
The Ways of God
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, / so are my ways higher than your ways / and my thoughts than your thoughts.” — Isaiah 55:9.
Well, we are in the crazy season again. The crazy season— that’s what I call each year we have a national election— the crazy season. This one may be crazier than a lot of others.
My guess is no one else here has had an experience similar to mine when it comes to a national election. My experience starts with the fact that I was, as many of you have heard, a theater professional. As a consequence, I worked a lot of odd jobs in my time.
One of those odd jobs— a very odd job— was surveying potential voters for the Harris organization. I was one of those often spoken of but rarely spotted presidential poll takers. It was 1980, the year Ronald Regan ran against Jimmy Carter.
To be clear, I know I have told this story before, so I apologize to those who might remember it. Others will not remember it. And, since it fits the direction in which I’m going today, it’s hard to not reuse a good story. Now, in order to tell you this story about being a poll taker, I do need to let you know some items which are both standard and vital for professional polling.
First, there should not be too many questions. A good survey lasts no longer than five to seven minutes.
Questions need to be, therefore, short— multiple choice or yes and no responses. Multiple choice questions should offer no more than four possible answers. A good poll also gets demographic data: age, ethnicity, faith background, etc., etc., etc.
Paradoxically, it’s vital the individual with whom the poll taker makes contact gives their own answer, not an answer a poll taker assumes. You can’t put words in their mouths. That’s a paradox because the poll taker, obviously, offers all the answers— yes or no, A, B, C or D. But the person contacted must say those words, those answers, for themselves.
Last, all the questions need to be answered. If one question is not answered or answered with the words the poll taker supplied, all the answers are thrown out. They do not count. All these are considered industry standards.
Well, let me take you back to 1980 for a minute— Carter verses Regan. I dialed a random number. What makes it random? The poll taker is assigned an area code and the first three digits of the phone number. That locates the call in a specific region. What presumably ensures randomness is the poll taker makes up the last four numbers.
The area I dialed that night was in Alabama. One call stands out in my memory. The questions about presidential preference were successfully navigated.
That brought up the demographic questions. Using my best imitation of a nationally known televison broadcast journalist, I asked the standard question about faith tradition: “Are you Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or other.”
“I’m a Baptist,” was a response.
Now, as I said, the person being polled needs to say one of those four words I offered as an answer. I tried to rephrase the question. “Many people would say the Baptist tradition is a part of the group known as Protestants. ‘Are you a Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or other.’”
“I’m a Baptist.”
I said, “Some people think a Baptist should not be classified as a Protestant but should fall under the category called ‘other.’ ‘Are you a Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or other.’”
“I’m a Baptist.”
The consequence of that interaction is all the answers this person gave did not count. They were thrown out. The voice of that person was never included in the 1980 presidential poll taken by Harris. (Slight pause.)
These words are from the Scroll of the Prophet Isaiah, the second Prophet in the Scroll: “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, / so are my ways higher than your ways / and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Slight pause.)
Vince Amlin is a United Church of Christ pastor. In a recent blog post he spoke of a parishioner who asked: “What do you expect of me as a fellow church member?”
Amlin said he loved this question, first, because it reminded him that he is a people, a church member— a member with a specific office— but a member. Therefore, this person was not asking a minister about expectations. This person was asking the people around her, fellow theologians— and like it or not, if we profess a belief in God, any god, we are theologians— this person was asking her fellow theologians who happen to also be churchgoers what they expected of her.
Now that very question about expectation begins, perhaps somewhat uncomfortably, with expectations. You see, if I am a people, a member of a congregation, a member of any group— not just churches, any group— it means others in that group make claims on me. Others make a claim on my time, a claim on my resources and, especially in a church, a claim might be made on my heart.
They expect me, a people, to pray for their father who is diagnosed with dementia. They expect me, a people, to be gracious to their children, perhaps buy some cookies to support a school activity or scouts of different flavors. They expect me, a people, to make soup or to bake for a potluck.
And this might be the most terrifying aspect— they might expect me, a people, to expect things of them in return. Others might expect me to need their care. Others might expect me to invite their concern. Others might expect me to partake of their casseroles— Vince Amlin a pastor with the United Church of Christ. [1] (Slight pause.)
All that poses a provocative question: to what is God calling us? Is it membership of some form or another? Doesn’t membership break out into tribes, as in “I’m a Baptist?” (Slight pause.)
Mike Flanagan, an Episcopal priest offers a reflection on this. “When I became clergy, I was all about the worship, the liturgy being just right and good preaching.”
Today, says Flanagan, my role is helping people discern their callings, their talents and connecting those to the needs of both the parish and the surrounding community. Says Flanagan (quote:) “Membership is a passive term. I can be a member and do nothing.”
This Episcopal priest no longer refers to parishioners as members. Instead, he refers to them as disciples. Disciples— that’s not a passive word. [2] (Slight pause.)
Poet Maren Tirabassi recently wrote a poem called Lenten reflection — I’d like a church – make mine double. These are her words.
I know a church / that only embraces prodigals – / tech industry nones / or folks who live in their cars, / those who identify as gender non-conforming, / formerly incarcerated, / in recovery, post-evangelical, / lapsed, doubters or inked.
I know a church / that only celebrates long-timers, / the ones who CROP walk, / or teach Sunday School, / the ones who are life-deacons, / chaperone mission trips, / shovel snow, / visit nursing homes, / get wax out of / Christmas morning carpet.
What I want is — / a church like / the completely dysfunctional family / Jesus told stories about – / with the designated lover / always out on the road / to welcome in or argue back — / someone staggering from / a hit-and-run, / someone stuck in their ruts. [3] (Slight pause) Lenten reflection — I’d like a church – make mine a double by Maren Tirabassi.
That brings me back to Isaiah’s proclamation that the ways of God are not our ways. In part, I think Maren’s poem is getting at a truth that may also be uncomfortable: God’s ways are not our ways, especially in church.
To illustrate that I think we need to realize the verse about the ways of God not being our ways actually refers to the first words in this passage (quote:) “I call out to all who thirst: / come to the waters; / and you that have no money, / come, buy and eat! / Come, buy wine and milk / without money and without price.”
God’s ways are not about a transaction, about what we can purchase, what we can trade, about how much we have. God’s ways are not about the tribalism of groups, not about who we know. God’s ways are definitely not about what we know.
Therefore, I think this reality should help us focus on the term disciple. This is a definition. A dictionary definition: a disciple is someone who accepts and helps spread teachings. (Slight pause.)
Some basic teachings are both clear and are found in this passage. God abundantly and freely pardons. We are forgiven in the eyes of God.
God’s economy is all inclusive. This really is a free market. There are no transactions. You do not pay.
God’s club is all inclusive. Everyone is welcome. (Slight pause.) So, how can we, as disciples, spread that word about the ways of God?
A disciple will incorporate these ways into their own lives. That is the method by which disciples really teach. (Slight pause.)
You have heard me say this hundreds of times. These ideals can be summed up this way: love God; love neighbor. These are God’s ways. These are God’s thoughts. Amen.
02/28/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I want to leave you with a quote from Archbishop Desmond Tutu: “In the end it matters not how good we are but how good God is. It matters not how much we love God but how much God loves us. And God loves us whoever we are, whatever we’ve done or failed to do, whatever we believe or can’t believe.”
BENEDICTION: God’s steadfast love endures forever. Let us live our days offering thanks to God who feeds our souls. Let us go on our way with Christ as our companion. And may 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] Adapted for this context.
http://www.ucc.org/daily_devotional_raised_expectations
[2]
https://baptistnews.com/ministry/congregations/item/30951-trading-membership-for-discipleship-helping-churches-christians
[3] Posted on Maren Tirabassi’s Facebook page.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
SERMON ~ 02/21/2016 ~ “The One Way Covenant”
02/21/2016 ~ Second Sunday in Lent ~ Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35 or Luke 9:28-36, (37-43a).
The One Way Covenant
“On that day Yahweh, God, made a covenant with Abram, saying, ‘To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates,....’” — Genesis 15:18.
Many of you know this about me but some might not. I love puns. I love making them up. I love telling them. In fact, at the Children’s Moment earlier it took all my strength to say, “Gee! Songs about ducks that drives me quackers.” [1]
This week anyone who is my Facebook friend and who did not know about me and puns found out about it. Not once, not twice but three times someone wrote on my Facebook page and labeled me a punster.
Well, at first I maintained my self control. I did nothing in response. But then, after I was accused in public of being a punster three times, and I am guilty, I simply could not take it any longer. In retaliation I let forth, I responded with a torrent of puns on Facebook. These are some but not all of the puns I posted. (Slight pause.)
How does Moses make tea? Hebrews it. Venison for dinner again? Oh deer! I used to be a banker, but I lost interest.
England has no kidney bank, but I hear it does have a Liverpool. I tried to catch some fog, but I mist. They told me I had type-A blood, but it was a typ-o.
Jokes about German sausage are the wurst. I know a guy who’s addicted to brake fluid but he says he can stop any time. I stayed up all night to see where the sun went, and then it dawned on me.
I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. I just can’t put it down. I wrote a play filled with puns. It was a play on words.
I didn’t like my beard at first but then it grew on me. Broken pencils are pointless. What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus. [2]
I dropped out of communism class because of lousy Marx. I got a job at a bakery. I kneaded dough. Velcro— what a rip off. [3] (Slight pause.)
Well, I’m glad I got those out of me. They were causing indigestion. That were probably causing indigestion for you too. I hope you were not too offended. (Slight pause.)
I think those of us who are fond of puns love language and what language can do. I’m guilty— I love language and what language can do. On the topic of what language can do— language, by its nature, will always have some degree of ambiguity about it.
In any language there will be many words whose meaning cannot be pinned down, whose definitions cannot be stated with totally certainty. In any language words which sound the same will have multiple meanings.
Indeed, one of the greatest punsters in the English language was William Shakespeare. In Romeo and Juliet the character Tybalt is pictured as a punster extraordinaire. And when this character is accidently stabbed and is dying, he says, “ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man.” (Slight pause.) Shakespeare— he loved language.
Those of us who love language are also very aware of the limitations with which language confronts us. English has many limitations when it come to a very important word: love. We pretty much use that one word to describe a number of things.
Greek, on the other hand, has at least six words which describe different aspects of love. There is, of course, the obvious word— eros, named after the Greek god of fertility.
Another word for love in Greek is philia or friendship, which the Greeks valued far more than eros. Philia was about showing loyalty to your friends, sacrificing for them, as well as sharing your emotions with them.
Perhaps we should all ask ourselves how much comradery, how much philia we have in our lives. That might, indeed, be an important question in an age when we attempt to amass “friends” on Facebook or “followers” on Twitter— achievements which would have hardly impressed the Greeks given the depth of emotion intended by the word philia.
The word ludus, another Greek words for love, meant playful love. It referred to affection between children or young lovers. Perhaps the closest comparison in English would be puppy love.
On the other hand, there are times we all live out the idea of love expressed by the word ludus. This happens when we sit around bantering and laughing with friends or maybe spending an evening playing a board game with friends.
If you’ve been around Christianity for any amount of time it’s likely you’ve heard another Greek word for love: agape. Agape love is perhaps the most radical and most formidable type of love. Agape is selfless love, a love that you extended to everyone, to all people, even love for distant strangers.
Christian apologist C. S. Lewis referred to agape as “gift love,” love offered with no expectation of getting anything in return, and also described it as the highest form of Christian love. To be clear, agape is also known in other religious traditions.
Another word for love in Greek is pragma. This is longstanding love, mature love, love which has, for instance, developed between a couple over an extensive period of time.
By definition, pragma is also about making compromises to help a relationship work over time. It is, therefore, not just about love relying on patience. It recognizes this love counts on patience.
In English we often talk about falling in love. But pragma is about how to “stand in constant love” and how to make an effort to give love rather than receive it.
The sixth and last word in Greek for love is philautia, or love of self. The Greeks were clever. They realized there were two types of philautia.
One was an unhealthy variety associated with narcissism, self-obsession, a focus on personal fame and fortune. A healthy version of philautia enhanced one’s wider capacity to love, a self love which enabled love of neighbor— a self love which enabled love of neighbor. [4] (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Genesis: “On that day Yahweh, God, made a covenant with Abram, saying, ‘To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates,....’” (Slight pause.)
Passages like this one can illustrate the limitations of our language, any language. First, the story contained therein is a theophany, a description of the real presence of God. No language yet invented is adequate to describe the real presence of God. So we tell stories and hope that will suffice.
This story contains countless stars, the experience of a trance, darkness, a smoking barrier, a fire pot, a flaming torch. It is an amazing story, meant to take us to another way of thinking, another realm, and still it’s likely we all know this story is inadequate in its efforts to speak about the presence of God.
It is, hence, imperative to realize these words also have a clear theological outlook. We call that outlook covenant. Here again, our language falls short. When we hear the word covenant we think in terms of transaction, a give and take situation.
But that is not what the words say nor what they mean. There is no transaction here, no contract, no give and take. The covenant God makes is not transactional.
(Quote:) “Fear not, Abram! I am your shield.” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything.
(Quote:) “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can! As many as that— so shall your descendants be.” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything.
(Quote:) “I am God who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land as a possession.” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything.
(Quote:) “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates,....” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything. (Slight pause.)
This is the theology expressed: God is the prime mover. God has made the covenant. We do not need to offer something in return. We may want to offer something in return. That is not the issue.
Perhaps this is why the Greek word agape is considered so important for us. As I said earlier, C. S. Lewis referred to agape as “gift love,” love offered with no expectation of getting anything in return.
All that brings us back to the various words for love in Greek and this strange problem of language being inadequate. The word covenant, you see, has a similar problem: inadequacy. There are many facets, many aspects to covenant.
When I last preached on this passage I tried to illuminate some of what covenant might mean by offering a list of words. These are the words I used.
Covenant— trust, growth, peace, respect, longing, joy, wisdom, freedom, hope, knowledge, understanding... and yes— love. Love with all its meanings. And therefore, what God offers us should be quite clear. God offers us covenant— covenant fraught with incredible, multiple, perhaps infinite meanings. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
02/21/2016
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 Walter Brueggemann has said this: ‘Covenant (and, therefore, true spirituality), consists on learning the skills and sensitivities that include both the courage to assert self and the grace to abandon self to another.’ In short, covenant is not possible unless you recognize the needs of others. I would suggest God covenants with us and recognizes our needs. Perhaps our call us to covenant with one another.”
BENEDICTION: Let our hearts take courage. Our God meets us where our needs rest. God is our shelter and shield. God’s blessings outnumber the stars. Let us go on our way with Christ as our companion. And may 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] At the children’s time a song about ducks— Five Little Ducks— was used.
[2] A parishioner called out “Tell us when it’s over!”
[3] It is an understatement to say the Congregation responded with laughter.
[4] This information is well known but you may want to reference this fairly current article, as I did.
http://www.yesmagazine.org/happiness/the-ancient-greeks-6-words-for-love-and-why-knowing-them-can-change-your-life
The One Way Covenant
“On that day Yahweh, God, made a covenant with Abram, saying, ‘To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates,....’” — Genesis 15:18.
Many of you know this about me but some might not. I love puns. I love making them up. I love telling them. In fact, at the Children’s Moment earlier it took all my strength to say, “Gee! Songs about ducks that drives me quackers.” [1]
This week anyone who is my Facebook friend and who did not know about me and puns found out about it. Not once, not twice but three times someone wrote on my Facebook page and labeled me a punster.
Well, at first I maintained my self control. I did nothing in response. But then, after I was accused in public of being a punster three times, and I am guilty, I simply could not take it any longer. In retaliation I let forth, I responded with a torrent of puns on Facebook. These are some but not all of the puns I posted. (Slight pause.)
How does Moses make tea? Hebrews it. Venison for dinner again? Oh deer! I used to be a banker, but I lost interest.
England has no kidney bank, but I hear it does have a Liverpool. I tried to catch some fog, but I mist. They told me I had type-A blood, but it was a typ-o.
Jokes about German sausage are the wurst. I know a guy who’s addicted to brake fluid but he says he can stop any time. I stayed up all night to see where the sun went, and then it dawned on me.
I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. I just can’t put it down. I wrote a play filled with puns. It was a play on words.
I didn’t like my beard at first but then it grew on me. Broken pencils are pointless. What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus. [2]
I dropped out of communism class because of lousy Marx. I got a job at a bakery. I kneaded dough. Velcro— what a rip off. [3] (Slight pause.)
Well, I’m glad I got those out of me. They were causing indigestion. That were probably causing indigestion for you too. I hope you were not too offended. (Slight pause.)
I think those of us who are fond of puns love language and what language can do. I’m guilty— I love language and what language can do. On the topic of what language can do— language, by its nature, will always have some degree of ambiguity about it.
In any language there will be many words whose meaning cannot be pinned down, whose definitions cannot be stated with totally certainty. In any language words which sound the same will have multiple meanings.
Indeed, one of the greatest punsters in the English language was William Shakespeare. In Romeo and Juliet the character Tybalt is pictured as a punster extraordinaire. And when this character is accidently stabbed and is dying, he says, “ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man.” (Slight pause.) Shakespeare— he loved language.
Those of us who love language are also very aware of the limitations with which language confronts us. English has many limitations when it come to a very important word: love. We pretty much use that one word to describe a number of things.
Greek, on the other hand, has at least six words which describe different aspects of love. There is, of course, the obvious word— eros, named after the Greek god of fertility.
Another word for love in Greek is philia or friendship, which the Greeks valued far more than eros. Philia was about showing loyalty to your friends, sacrificing for them, as well as sharing your emotions with them.
Perhaps we should all ask ourselves how much comradery, how much philia we have in our lives. That might, indeed, be an important question in an age when we attempt to amass “friends” on Facebook or “followers” on Twitter— achievements which would have hardly impressed the Greeks given the depth of emotion intended by the word philia.
The word ludus, another Greek words for love, meant playful love. It referred to affection between children or young lovers. Perhaps the closest comparison in English would be puppy love.
On the other hand, there are times we all live out the idea of love expressed by the word ludus. This happens when we sit around bantering and laughing with friends or maybe spending an evening playing a board game with friends.
If you’ve been around Christianity for any amount of time it’s likely you’ve heard another Greek word for love: agape. Agape love is perhaps the most radical and most formidable type of love. Agape is selfless love, a love that you extended to everyone, to all people, even love for distant strangers.
Christian apologist C. S. Lewis referred to agape as “gift love,” love offered with no expectation of getting anything in return, and also described it as the highest form of Christian love. To be clear, agape is also known in other religious traditions.
Another word for love in Greek is pragma. This is longstanding love, mature love, love which has, for instance, developed between a couple over an extensive period of time.
By definition, pragma is also about making compromises to help a relationship work over time. It is, therefore, not just about love relying on patience. It recognizes this love counts on patience.
In English we often talk about falling in love. But pragma is about how to “stand in constant love” and how to make an effort to give love rather than receive it.
The sixth and last word in Greek for love is philautia, or love of self. The Greeks were clever. They realized there were two types of philautia.
One was an unhealthy variety associated with narcissism, self-obsession, a focus on personal fame and fortune. A healthy version of philautia enhanced one’s wider capacity to love, a self love which enabled love of neighbor— a self love which enabled love of neighbor. [4] (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Genesis: “On that day Yahweh, God, made a covenant with Abram, saying, ‘To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates,....’” (Slight pause.)
Passages like this one can illustrate the limitations of our language, any language. First, the story contained therein is a theophany, a description of the real presence of God. No language yet invented is adequate to describe the real presence of God. So we tell stories and hope that will suffice.
This story contains countless stars, the experience of a trance, darkness, a smoking barrier, a fire pot, a flaming torch. It is an amazing story, meant to take us to another way of thinking, another realm, and still it’s likely we all know this story is inadequate in its efforts to speak about the presence of God.
It is, hence, imperative to realize these words also have a clear theological outlook. We call that outlook covenant. Here again, our language falls short. When we hear the word covenant we think in terms of transaction, a give and take situation.
But that is not what the words say nor what they mean. There is no transaction here, no contract, no give and take. The covenant God makes is not transactional.
(Quote:) “Fear not, Abram! I am your shield.” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything.
(Quote:) “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can! As many as that— so shall your descendants be.” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything.
(Quote:) “I am God who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land as a possession.” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything.
(Quote:) “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates,....” Theological translation: you don’t have to do anything. (Slight pause.)
This is the theology expressed: God is the prime mover. God has made the covenant. We do not need to offer something in return. We may want to offer something in return. That is not the issue.
Perhaps this is why the Greek word agape is considered so important for us. As I said earlier, C. S. Lewis referred to agape as “gift love,” love offered with no expectation of getting anything in return.
All that brings us back to the various words for love in Greek and this strange problem of language being inadequate. The word covenant, you see, has a similar problem: inadequacy. There are many facets, many aspects to covenant.
When I last preached on this passage I tried to illuminate some of what covenant might mean by offering a list of words. These are the words I used.
Covenant— trust, growth, peace, respect, longing, joy, wisdom, freedom, hope, knowledge, understanding... and yes— love. Love with all its meanings. And therefore, what God offers us should be quite clear. God offers us covenant— covenant fraught with incredible, multiple, perhaps infinite meanings. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
02/21/2016
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 Walter Brueggemann has said this: ‘Covenant (and, therefore, true spirituality), consists on learning the skills and sensitivities that include both the courage to assert self and the grace to abandon self to another.’ In short, covenant is not possible unless you recognize the needs of others. I would suggest God covenants with us and recognizes our needs. Perhaps our call us to covenant with one another.”
BENEDICTION: Let our hearts take courage. Our God meets us where our needs rest. God is our shelter and shield. God’s blessings outnumber the stars. Let us go on our way with Christ as our companion. And may 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] At the children’s time a song about ducks— Five Little Ducks— was used.
[2] A parishioner called out “Tell us when it’s over!”
[3] It is an understatement to say the Congregation responded with laughter.
[4] This information is well known but you may want to reference this fairly current article, as I did.
http://www.yesmagazine.org/happiness/the-ancient-greeks-6-words-for-love-and-why-knowing-them-can-change-your-life
Sunday, February 14, 2016
SERMON ~ 02/14/2016 ~ “No Distinction”
02/14/2016 ~ First Sunday in Lent ~ Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16; Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13.
No Distinction
“...there is no distinction between Jew and Greek— all have the same Creator, rich in mercy towards those who call.” — Romans 10:12.
I have, a number of times here, addressed the fact that I grew up in New York City. One joke line I have about is that I was born in Manhattan, raised in Brooklyn, lived in Queens, went to school in the Bronx and way before I met Bonnie, way before Bonnie came into my life, dated a girl from Staten Island.
I guess that is to say I know city life and how to survive in it. In fact, know at what point the Subway cars will stop in a station, so I don’t have to run down the platform to climb aborad. I know a mathematic formula which can determine the location of a building on the north/south avenues in Manhattan. I know about the codes on the lampposts in Central Park which tell you which east/west cross street you are at in the park. Yes, I know all kinds of strange things from my time in the city.
I have to also said I grew up in a relatively poor section of Brooklyn which, at that point in time, could be described as a ghetto. Mind you, today this section of the Borough has undergone significant gentrification. Given that, I could probably not afford to live there now. (If no one has told you this before: timing can mean everything in life.)
There is, however another way to look my origins, where I was born and the circumstances under which I was raised, since there are both advantages and disadvantages to one’s background. Having already addressed a disadvantage— being poor— let me mention one advantage of growing up when I did and where I did in New York City.
One advantage to which I extensively availed myself, was an ability to be in touch with and be exposed to world class music and world class art, especially when I could get it for free, which is possible in the city. Given that I deliberately sought out world class music and art I always said I was the black sheep of the family.
More than my siblings or even my parents I was attuned to classical music and also to what was showing at the Guggenheim and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I know it’s strange or it may sound strange to some but in my teens I was more of a fan of Leonard Bernstein and Leonardo da Vinci than a fan of pop music and comic books. Given both aspects of those early years— both the poverty and the exposure to world class opportunities— what I just described includes something most would call both a large disadvantage but also a large advantage.
I understand this description, a description with an advantage and a disadvantage, offers an internal paradox. But my bet is all of us could describe incongruities when it comes to our early experiences. Things are not always as cut and dry as they seem.
All that having been said, I want to reduced this description— this concept of time and place of origin— to a phrase academic sociologists use to describe one’s time and place of origin. Sociologists use a simple term: social location— social location. We all have a time and a place of origin. Therefore, we all come from and have a social location.
I need to unpack that just a little. Is money or lack thereof a strong influence on how one sees the world? Yes. Where-with-all matters when it comes to how one sees the world. Is race an influence? Yes. If we do not recognize that the structure of race relations in this country and world-wide matters, we have our eyes closed to reality.
But many other things matter too. The community in which we are reared matters. That’s a strong influence. And so does the country in which we come to our majority. This is a strong influence. And the people around whom we grow up are unquestionably a strong influence. In short, social location has many variables and many influences.
The point is, like it or not, our time and place of origin, our social location, has a nearly overwhelming influence on our view of the world. This social location— and what I am about to say is true both when we are aware of our social location and when we are blissfully unaware of social location— our social location helps shape which concepts are intelligible to us, which concepts help us shape the world around us and help that world make sense to us.
Social location impacts what claims will get through to us, what it is we actually hear and how they are understood by us. Social location can block or can illuminate the features of the world are salient, relevant, forceful, credible.
Well, let’s put that academic stuff aside for a minute. Perhaps this is a less academic way to put it— a quick easier way. If you grew up in circumstances of wealth, your take on a lot of things is likely to be different than if you grew up in circumstances of poverty.
If you grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota, your take on a lot of things is likely to be different than if you grew up in San Francisco. If you grew up in London, England, your take on a lot of things is likely to be different an if you grew up in Tokyo, Japan. If you grew up in Chenango County.... well, you get the idea. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Letter to the Church in Rome, often called Romans: “...there is no distinction between Jew and Greek— all have the same Creator, rich in mercy towards those who call.” (Slight pause.)
There is a term, a label, I hear being flung around a lot these days. “Loser!” I think most of the time those who use this— and I think it’s obviously being used as an accusation— those who use this are attempting to utter a pejorative, an insult, a put down.
But it’s also clear most invectives like “loser” and a bunch of others set up an us/them dichotomy, an us/them separation. What is left unsaid is, ‘If there are losers, there must be winners.’ Winners and losers— that’s the way the real world works, right? Indeed, separating people into categories, groups begs the question: ‘What is the purpose of drawing us/them lines?’ ‘Why draw up these categories, these separations?’ (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to Paul’s proclamation about there being no distinction between Jew and Greek. The season of Lent, you see, always brings the church back to the basics, to issues that are bedrock and essential.
The texts assigned in Lent invite us to reflect on where we, as communities and individuals, stand in relation to that center. They also invite us to a process of self-examination, forgiveness, new life, repentance.
And to be clear, repentance is not being sorry about something. Repentance means turning ourselves toward God and turning our lives over to God. Therefore and in short, this reading confronts us with some fundamental theological concepts and psychological affirmations. Further, these concepts and affirmations can help us define who we are in helpful ways.
Indeed, the text challenges us to ask a basic question: who is to be included into our community? Clearly the answer is everyone. You see, there is no distinction between Jew and Greek.
And, given Paul’s social location, that means everyone. You were either a Jew or a gentile, to use the modern term— Greek. And, given the concept of social location, Paul is insisting social location should not be the determining factor when it comes to who is acceptable and who is not.
So, let’s come back to our own social location for a minute. Given the world we see today— given the world Paul saw— I would actually argue that the human tendency is to break out into tribes. Our human tendency is to pick winners and losers. It is what might be called a natural tendency.
I would also argue that the call of the Gospel counters that. The call of the Gospel is to live in the grace God offers. The call of the Gospel is to see everyone as being gathered into in one tribe— the tribe of God.
Let me give a label to this idea, that everyone belongs to one tribe— the tribe of God. That everyone might belong to one tribe is not a natural tendency. It is a supernatural tendency. It is a tendency which relies on the grace God offers to each of us, Jew and Greek. Put in a different way our own social location is not and should not be a consideration when we ask ‘who belongs to the tribe of God?’
So, to what social location do we belong? Do we really belong to a social location which chooses up sides— winners and losers? Or do we belong to the social location about which Paul writes?
And yes, it is a challenge to refrain from picking sides. It is a challenge to love as God would have us love. But I suspect— no, I am convinced— that is the call of the Gospel, a call to the supernatural, the realm of God— here, now, with us. Amen.
02/14/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “I think the deep theological point I was trying to make may be more simple than what said. Do not be trapped by your social location. Instead embrace God who invites us toward unity and growth. Therefore, I want to call your attention to the thought for meditation in today’s bulletin (quote:) ‘Lent is not a “penitential season.” Lent is a “growing season.”’ Indeed, Lent is a time for growth. So, let us pray for the grace to, grow in service, grow in friendship, grow in love.”
BENEDICTION: God heals and restores. God grants to us the grace and the talent to witness to the love God has for us. Let us be ready as we go into the world, for we are baptized in the power of the Spirit. And may 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.
No Distinction
“...there is no distinction between Jew and Greek— all have the same Creator, rich in mercy towards those who call.” — Romans 10:12.
I have, a number of times here, addressed the fact that I grew up in New York City. One joke line I have about is that I was born in Manhattan, raised in Brooklyn, lived in Queens, went to school in the Bronx and way before I met Bonnie, way before Bonnie came into my life, dated a girl from Staten Island.
I guess that is to say I know city life and how to survive in it. In fact, know at what point the Subway cars will stop in a station, so I don’t have to run down the platform to climb aborad. I know a mathematic formula which can determine the location of a building on the north/south avenues in Manhattan. I know about the codes on the lampposts in Central Park which tell you which east/west cross street you are at in the park. Yes, I know all kinds of strange things from my time in the city.
I have to also said I grew up in a relatively poor section of Brooklyn which, at that point in time, could be described as a ghetto. Mind you, today this section of the Borough has undergone significant gentrification. Given that, I could probably not afford to live there now. (If no one has told you this before: timing can mean everything in life.)
There is, however another way to look my origins, where I was born and the circumstances under which I was raised, since there are both advantages and disadvantages to one’s background. Having already addressed a disadvantage— being poor— let me mention one advantage of growing up when I did and where I did in New York City.
One advantage to which I extensively availed myself, was an ability to be in touch with and be exposed to world class music and world class art, especially when I could get it for free, which is possible in the city. Given that I deliberately sought out world class music and art I always said I was the black sheep of the family.
More than my siblings or even my parents I was attuned to classical music and also to what was showing at the Guggenheim and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I know it’s strange or it may sound strange to some but in my teens I was more of a fan of Leonard Bernstein and Leonardo da Vinci than a fan of pop music and comic books. Given both aspects of those early years— both the poverty and the exposure to world class opportunities— what I just described includes something most would call both a large disadvantage but also a large advantage.
I understand this description, a description with an advantage and a disadvantage, offers an internal paradox. But my bet is all of us could describe incongruities when it comes to our early experiences. Things are not always as cut and dry as they seem.
All that having been said, I want to reduced this description— this concept of time and place of origin— to a phrase academic sociologists use to describe one’s time and place of origin. Sociologists use a simple term: social location— social location. We all have a time and a place of origin. Therefore, we all come from and have a social location.
I need to unpack that just a little. Is money or lack thereof a strong influence on how one sees the world? Yes. Where-with-all matters when it comes to how one sees the world. Is race an influence? Yes. If we do not recognize that the structure of race relations in this country and world-wide matters, we have our eyes closed to reality.
But many other things matter too. The community in which we are reared matters. That’s a strong influence. And so does the country in which we come to our majority. This is a strong influence. And the people around whom we grow up are unquestionably a strong influence. In short, social location has many variables and many influences.
The point is, like it or not, our time and place of origin, our social location, has a nearly overwhelming influence on our view of the world. This social location— and what I am about to say is true both when we are aware of our social location and when we are blissfully unaware of social location— our social location helps shape which concepts are intelligible to us, which concepts help us shape the world around us and help that world make sense to us.
Social location impacts what claims will get through to us, what it is we actually hear and how they are understood by us. Social location can block or can illuminate the features of the world are salient, relevant, forceful, credible.
Well, let’s put that academic stuff aside for a minute. Perhaps this is a less academic way to put it— a quick easier way. If you grew up in circumstances of wealth, your take on a lot of things is likely to be different than if you grew up in circumstances of poverty.
If you grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota, your take on a lot of things is likely to be different than if you grew up in San Francisco. If you grew up in London, England, your take on a lot of things is likely to be different an if you grew up in Tokyo, Japan. If you grew up in Chenango County.... well, you get the idea. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Letter to the Church in Rome, often called Romans: “...there is no distinction between Jew and Greek— all have the same Creator, rich in mercy towards those who call.” (Slight pause.)
There is a term, a label, I hear being flung around a lot these days. “Loser!” I think most of the time those who use this— and I think it’s obviously being used as an accusation— those who use this are attempting to utter a pejorative, an insult, a put down.
But it’s also clear most invectives like “loser” and a bunch of others set up an us/them dichotomy, an us/them separation. What is left unsaid is, ‘If there are losers, there must be winners.’ Winners and losers— that’s the way the real world works, right? Indeed, separating people into categories, groups begs the question: ‘What is the purpose of drawing us/them lines?’ ‘Why draw up these categories, these separations?’ (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to Paul’s proclamation about there being no distinction between Jew and Greek. The season of Lent, you see, always brings the church back to the basics, to issues that are bedrock and essential.
The texts assigned in Lent invite us to reflect on where we, as communities and individuals, stand in relation to that center. They also invite us to a process of self-examination, forgiveness, new life, repentance.
And to be clear, repentance is not being sorry about something. Repentance means turning ourselves toward God and turning our lives over to God. Therefore and in short, this reading confronts us with some fundamental theological concepts and psychological affirmations. Further, these concepts and affirmations can help us define who we are in helpful ways.
Indeed, the text challenges us to ask a basic question: who is to be included into our community? Clearly the answer is everyone. You see, there is no distinction between Jew and Greek.
And, given Paul’s social location, that means everyone. You were either a Jew or a gentile, to use the modern term— Greek. And, given the concept of social location, Paul is insisting social location should not be the determining factor when it comes to who is acceptable and who is not.
So, let’s come back to our own social location for a minute. Given the world we see today— given the world Paul saw— I would actually argue that the human tendency is to break out into tribes. Our human tendency is to pick winners and losers. It is what might be called a natural tendency.
I would also argue that the call of the Gospel counters that. The call of the Gospel is to live in the grace God offers. The call of the Gospel is to see everyone as being gathered into in one tribe— the tribe of God.
Let me give a label to this idea, that everyone belongs to one tribe— the tribe of God. That everyone might belong to one tribe is not a natural tendency. It is a supernatural tendency. It is a tendency which relies on the grace God offers to each of us, Jew and Greek. Put in a different way our own social location is not and should not be a consideration when we ask ‘who belongs to the tribe of God?’
So, to what social location do we belong? Do we really belong to a social location which chooses up sides— winners and losers? Or do we belong to the social location about which Paul writes?
And yes, it is a challenge to refrain from picking sides. It is a challenge to love as God would have us love. But I suspect— no, I am convinced— that is the call of the Gospel, a call to the supernatural, the realm of God— here, now, with us. Amen.
02/14/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “I think the deep theological point I was trying to make may be more simple than what said. Do not be trapped by your social location. Instead embrace God who invites us toward unity and growth. Therefore, I want to call your attention to the thought for meditation in today’s bulletin (quote:) ‘Lent is not a “penitential season.” Lent is a “growing season.”’ Indeed, Lent is a time for growth. So, let us pray for the grace to, grow in service, grow in friendship, grow in love.”
BENEDICTION: God heals and restores. God grants to us the grace and the talent to witness to the love God has for us. Let us be ready as we go into the world, for we are baptized in the power of the Spirit. And may 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.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
SERMON ~ 02/07/2016 ~ “Theophany”
02/07/2016 ~ Last Sunday before Lent ~ Last Sunday in the Season of Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as Transfiguration Sunday ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Communion Sunday ~ Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-36, (37-43a).
Theophany
We find these words in the work known as Exodus: “On entering into the presence of Yahweh, God, on entering in the Tabernacle, Moses would remove the veil. On coming out, Moses would place the veil back on and tell the Israelites what had been instructed.” (Exodus 34:34) and we find these words in the work known as Luke: “Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Own, my Chosen; listen!’” (Luke 9:35).
It is sometimes said of the Hebrew language that all the words contained therein change meaning even as we look at them. They live, they breathe, they move, they transform. That kind of behavior for Hebrew words is very unlike the behavior of words in English. In English words tend to be relatively static [the pastor taps on the side of the pulpit to indicate the static state of words in English], stable in meaning.
Now, there is a term, a Hebrew word— Midrash— which contains many meanings. The word Midrash has its origins in the Hebrew Scriptures and in ancient commentaries on the Hebrew Scriptures. As I suggested and as is typical for Hebrew words, Midrash has a multiplicity of meanings. Indeed, to delve into all the dimensions of the word Midrash would take quite some time.
And I could do that. You see, my Master’s Thesis was on Midrash. But I will offer a fairly narrow explanation and concentrated on one area.
Midrash can be defined as Rabbinic story telling by and through which the narrator, the teller of the story, looks at the witness of Scripture and asks, “what might be present here but has been left unuttered?” What story, true to the underlying theology being expressed, might be offered to help people better understand not the story but the theological point the story makes? It is hence, and for lack of a better way of saying it, an additional story which is also a commentary.
That having been said, a Rabbi friend of mine tells this Midrash, this story, this commentary about Moses and God. (Slight pause.) Moses, when in the presence of God, asks one of the big questions, a question we all want to ask. ‘Why do bad things happen to good people?’
God is silent. God does not answer with words. Instead God shows Moses the otzar ha'tov— the “storehouse of goodness”—the otzar ha'tov— all the good things God gives the world. And it is this vision of good which empowers Moses to continue the work to which God has invited Moses. (Slight pause.)
Often the commentary of Midrash has a simple lesson. The lesson given to Moses here is the same for us, says my Rabbi friend. Despite all the brokenness we see— and there is a lot of brokenness in the world— despite all the brokenness we see we still need to understand the presence of God has touched the world. The presence of God does touch us personally.
In fact, says this Rabbi, when we are filled with awe and wonder, when we find the places where God has been and is, we are close to God. But perhaps that still says little about how can we recognize the presence of God, know when God is close at hand. Well think about this— and this was said in the song lyric we just sang— think about this: when the prophet Elijah tried to explain an experience of God, the explanation said God was not in the great and mighty wind, not in the splitting mountains, the shattering rock, not in the fire. God was in the small, thin voice... of silence. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Exodus: “On entering into the presence of Yahweh, God, on entering in the Tabernacle, Moses would remove the veil. On coming out, Moses would place the veil back on and tell the Israelites what had been instructed.” (Exodus 34:34) And we find these words in the work known as Luke: “Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Own, my Chosen; listen!’” (Slight pause.)
I want to first suggest we worry way too much about finding God, about seeing God, about tangible evidence. I have a friend whose favorite saying when nearly anything happens is, “That must be a sign from God!”
I want to suggest, second, that God is not in the big deals, high places of exhilaration. God is not in the “special effects.” In short, God is rarely found in signs. Rather God is often present in the still voices of the silence, in the tender touching of hearts, the slow shaping of souls.
During both good times and challenging times we need do to keep our eyes on our otzar ha'tov— on the good things that grace our lives every day— the breath of our lips, the touch of fingertips. We may never know exactly why things fall or even fall apart the way they do. But I am convinced the simple, elegant goodness we see all around and I am convinced this helps us find the strength to move on.
All this leads to an obvious question. What is an experience of God? If we have an experience of God, what does it feel like? If we have had an experience of God, how do we describe it? (Slight pause.)
I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to speak very personally, from the heart, for a moment. In part, it has to do with the fact that I am a pastor and I have been doing this now for over 21 years now.
You see, in this vocation I often feel the presence of God, the reality of the presence of God. Those times do tend to be the quiet times. But they also can be stressful times. When are these times? What are these times?
When I officiate at a Baptism and see the smile on the face of the newly Baptized. When I officiate at a wedding, when hope, trust and love intertwine and become perceptible.
When I am visiting someone who is sick, when I pray with them and strive to give support. When I meet with a family about a memorial service and talk about, remember their loved one. You see, one of the privileges of this call in which I am involved is to regularly be with people in times of transition.
Times of transition are often times when God is with us. Please note: I am not suggesting we always know God is with us in these times. But I would insist God is always with us, even when we do not know it, even when we cannot name it.
So, to be clear: I, myself, cannot put into adequate words— and as I think we all know I have a reputation as a wordsmith— I cannot put into adequate words an explanation of what the presence of God feels like. All I can do is affirm that the presence of God is real, tangible, with us.
Further, to proclaim the reality of God in no way diminishes difficult times. We all have difficult times. We all have times when we question the presence of God, the reality of God.
And that brings me back to the readings from Exodus and from Luke. How hard is it to explain an experience of God and put an experience of God into words? Very hard. You see, I think if we look at these two passages as trying to put an experience of God into words, that can help us understand what they are really about. And they are not about signs. They are not about “special effects.”
These passages are a testament to the idea that God is with us. Indeed, I think the message of Scripture can be reduced to one simple truth: God is present among us, now. God is present, with us, among us forever. And that is the message of these stories in Exodus and in Luke. God is with us. Well, and maybe God is with us but that presence is beyond description. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
02/07/2016
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “Have you ever thought about the so called ‘New Testament’ in this way? The New Testament is, largely, a commentary, a Midrash, on the ‘Old Testament.’ Let me say that again: The New Testament is, largely, a commentary, a Midrash, on the ‘Old Testament.’ Nearly every paragraph in the New Testament contains references to the Hebrew Scriptures. If you do not know the Hebrew Scriptures, you cannot begin to make sense of the Christian Scriptures. And not only are they are throughly intertwined. They are both about the experience of God. And what are the stories we heard in Exodus and in Luke about? They are about an experience of the presence of God— nothing more, nothing less.”
BENEDICTION: God heals and restores. God grants to us the grace and the talent to witness to the love God has for us. So let us live in the light God offers. And, therefore, let us be ready as we go into the world, for we are baptized in the power of the Spirit. And may 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] When the Exodus reading was introduced this was said: “Theophany— and theophany is the title of the sermon today— theophany is a $64 word for an experience of the real presence of God.”
[2] The hymn offered after the Luke reading was Dear God Embracing Humankind. One of the lyrics reads: “Let sense be numb, let flesh retire; / speak through the earthquake wind and fire, O still, small voice of calm.”
Theophany
We find these words in the work known as Exodus: “On entering into the presence of Yahweh, God, on entering in the Tabernacle, Moses would remove the veil. On coming out, Moses would place the veil back on and tell the Israelites what had been instructed.” (Exodus 34:34) and we find these words in the work known as Luke: “Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Own, my Chosen; listen!’” (Luke 9:35).
It is sometimes said of the Hebrew language that all the words contained therein change meaning even as we look at them. They live, they breathe, they move, they transform. That kind of behavior for Hebrew words is very unlike the behavior of words in English. In English words tend to be relatively static [the pastor taps on the side of the pulpit to indicate the static state of words in English], stable in meaning.
Now, there is a term, a Hebrew word— Midrash— which contains many meanings. The word Midrash has its origins in the Hebrew Scriptures and in ancient commentaries on the Hebrew Scriptures. As I suggested and as is typical for Hebrew words, Midrash has a multiplicity of meanings. Indeed, to delve into all the dimensions of the word Midrash would take quite some time.
And I could do that. You see, my Master’s Thesis was on Midrash. But I will offer a fairly narrow explanation and concentrated on one area.
Midrash can be defined as Rabbinic story telling by and through which the narrator, the teller of the story, looks at the witness of Scripture and asks, “what might be present here but has been left unuttered?” What story, true to the underlying theology being expressed, might be offered to help people better understand not the story but the theological point the story makes? It is hence, and for lack of a better way of saying it, an additional story which is also a commentary.
That having been said, a Rabbi friend of mine tells this Midrash, this story, this commentary about Moses and God. (Slight pause.) Moses, when in the presence of God, asks one of the big questions, a question we all want to ask. ‘Why do bad things happen to good people?’
God is silent. God does not answer with words. Instead God shows Moses the otzar ha'tov— the “storehouse of goodness”—the otzar ha'tov— all the good things God gives the world. And it is this vision of good which empowers Moses to continue the work to which God has invited Moses. (Slight pause.)
Often the commentary of Midrash has a simple lesson. The lesson given to Moses here is the same for us, says my Rabbi friend. Despite all the brokenness we see— and there is a lot of brokenness in the world— despite all the brokenness we see we still need to understand the presence of God has touched the world. The presence of God does touch us personally.
In fact, says this Rabbi, when we are filled with awe and wonder, when we find the places where God has been and is, we are close to God. But perhaps that still says little about how can we recognize the presence of God, know when God is close at hand. Well think about this— and this was said in the song lyric we just sang— think about this: when the prophet Elijah tried to explain an experience of God, the explanation said God was not in the great and mighty wind, not in the splitting mountains, the shattering rock, not in the fire. God was in the small, thin voice... of silence. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Exodus: “On entering into the presence of Yahweh, God, on entering in the Tabernacle, Moses would remove the veil. On coming out, Moses would place the veil back on and tell the Israelites what had been instructed.” (Exodus 34:34) And we find these words in the work known as Luke: “Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Own, my Chosen; listen!’” (Slight pause.)
I want to first suggest we worry way too much about finding God, about seeing God, about tangible evidence. I have a friend whose favorite saying when nearly anything happens is, “That must be a sign from God!”
I want to suggest, second, that God is not in the big deals, high places of exhilaration. God is not in the “special effects.” In short, God is rarely found in signs. Rather God is often present in the still voices of the silence, in the tender touching of hearts, the slow shaping of souls.
During both good times and challenging times we need do to keep our eyes on our otzar ha'tov— on the good things that grace our lives every day— the breath of our lips, the touch of fingertips. We may never know exactly why things fall or even fall apart the way they do. But I am convinced the simple, elegant goodness we see all around and I am convinced this helps us find the strength to move on.
All this leads to an obvious question. What is an experience of God? If we have an experience of God, what does it feel like? If we have had an experience of God, how do we describe it? (Slight pause.)
I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to speak very personally, from the heart, for a moment. In part, it has to do with the fact that I am a pastor and I have been doing this now for over 21 years now.
You see, in this vocation I often feel the presence of God, the reality of the presence of God. Those times do tend to be the quiet times. But they also can be stressful times. When are these times? What are these times?
When I officiate at a Baptism and see the smile on the face of the newly Baptized. When I officiate at a wedding, when hope, trust and love intertwine and become perceptible.
When I am visiting someone who is sick, when I pray with them and strive to give support. When I meet with a family about a memorial service and talk about, remember their loved one. You see, one of the privileges of this call in which I am involved is to regularly be with people in times of transition.
Times of transition are often times when God is with us. Please note: I am not suggesting we always know God is with us in these times. But I would insist God is always with us, even when we do not know it, even when we cannot name it.
So, to be clear: I, myself, cannot put into adequate words— and as I think we all know I have a reputation as a wordsmith— I cannot put into adequate words an explanation of what the presence of God feels like. All I can do is affirm that the presence of God is real, tangible, with us.
Further, to proclaim the reality of God in no way diminishes difficult times. We all have difficult times. We all have times when we question the presence of God, the reality of God.
And that brings me back to the readings from Exodus and from Luke. How hard is it to explain an experience of God and put an experience of God into words? Very hard. You see, I think if we look at these two passages as trying to put an experience of God into words, that can help us understand what they are really about. And they are not about signs. They are not about “special effects.”
These passages are a testament to the idea that God is with us. Indeed, I think the message of Scripture can be reduced to one simple truth: God is present among us, now. God is present, with us, among us forever. And that is the message of these stories in Exodus and in Luke. God is with us. Well, and maybe God is with us but that presence is beyond description. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
02/07/2016
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “Have you ever thought about the so called ‘New Testament’ in this way? The New Testament is, largely, a commentary, a Midrash, on the ‘Old Testament.’ Let me say that again: The New Testament is, largely, a commentary, a Midrash, on the ‘Old Testament.’ Nearly every paragraph in the New Testament contains references to the Hebrew Scriptures. If you do not know the Hebrew Scriptures, you cannot begin to make sense of the Christian Scriptures. And not only are they are throughly intertwined. They are both about the experience of God. And what are the stories we heard in Exodus and in Luke about? They are about an experience of the presence of God— nothing more, nothing less.”
BENEDICTION: God heals and restores. God grants to us the grace and the talent to witness to the love God has for us. So let us live in the light God offers. And, therefore, let us be ready as we go into the world, for we are baptized in the power of the Spirit. And may 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] When the Exodus reading was introduced this was said: “Theophany— and theophany is the title of the sermon today— theophany is a $64 word for an experience of the real presence of God.”
[2] The hymn offered after the Luke reading was Dear God Embracing Humankind. One of the lyrics reads: “Let sense be numb, let flesh retire; / speak through the earthquake wind and fire, O still, small voice of calm.”
Monday, February 1, 2016
SERMON ~ 01/31/2016 ~ “Prophesying”
01/31/2016 ~ Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Jeremiah 1:4-10; Psalm 71:1-6; 1 Corinthians 13:1-13; Luke 4:21-30 ~ Annual Budget Meeting.
Prophesying [1]
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, / and before you were born I consecrated you; / I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” — Jeremiah 1:5.
I told this story here once here before but it as a long, long time ago so I’m going to chance repeating it. When I was in my twenties I was in a men’s group who got together for what they deemed to be serious discussions.
The evening meetings happened sporadically, usually timed to coincide with a basketball, baseball or football game on television. We would have our so called “serious discussion,” then watch a game, drink beer and eat pretzels.
Which is also to say we may have been serious about it, but the real reason for meeting was not the chosen topic of the day. The real reason was to watch a sporting event, drink beer, eat pretzels and shout at the TV.
One evening the topic was simple: is it O.K. for a Christian to be a communist? After most of the people present delivered a scathing opinion of communism— this was the early 1970s— I piped up and said it was O.K. for a Christian to be a communist, O.K. for a Christian to be a capitalist, O.K. for a Christian to be a socialist, etc., etc., etc.
What was not O.K. was for a Christian to be a greedy communist or a greedy capitalist or a greedy socialist. That ended the discussion, for which the others were grateful since it was nearly game time.
Starting in the late 1940s fear of so called “Godless communism” became rampant in America. As I think that story illustrates, what is Godless in economic systems is not the system. What makes any economic system Godless is greed. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, / and before you were born I consecrated you; / I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” (Slight pause.)
Many of you have heard me say this: a prophet does not predict the future. Biblical prophecy is not about predicting the future. Prophecy, Biblical prophecy, is when one speaks the Word of God, the truth of God, the reality of God. Therefore, prophecy in the Biblical sense is about now— right now. (Slight pause.)
So, I believe this to be a word of prophecy— at least as I see it— and I hope as God sees it. Greed makes communism Godless, socialism Godless, capitalism Godless. And we need to be as wary of Godless capitalism as we need to be wary of Godlessness in any other system or, indeed, anything else.
In fact, in the reading from Luke Jesus offers a prophecy, a true prophecy. Jesus proclaims the Word of God, the truth of God, the reality of God. Jesus says to bring good news to those who are poor, to proclaim release, liberty to those held captive, recovery of sight to those who are blind, release to those in prison and to proclaim the year of God’s favor is prophecy. It is about now.
So, here’s a question: is that prophecy Jesus offered— is that prophecy too tall an order for us in our times, now? And are these words Jesus spoke not a true calling for we Christians, now? (Slight pause.)
Today we have looked at and passed a budget. I want to suggest as dry a topic as finance is for some, especially in budgets we can and we must speak the Word of God.
So the serious question before us today has been— whether or not we acknowledged it— the serious question before us today has been this: is our budget prophetic enough? Did our budget say anything about the truth of the Word of God? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest one way we can infuse prophecy into our budget, the make up of our budget, is for more of us to be involved with it. To be clear, I think the Trustees do an outstanding job, a wonderful job and, as I said, finance can be a dry topic for some of us. But I also think more of us need to be involved with the prophecy found in the budget— and it’s there.
Indeed, I believe prophecy— speaking the Word of God— is our call as Christians, as I said. And our budget needs to be a full fledged part of that prophecy.
Why do I say this? Well, the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah has this statement you heard earlier (quote:) “I appointed you— I appointed you— a prophet to the nations.” Amen.
01/31/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “I want to leave you with two thoughts: the first is from the contemporary troubadour Bob Dylan (quote:) ‘I think you will find / When your death takes its toll / All the money you made / Will never buy back your soul.’ The second is from Saint Basil a fourth century theologian and monastic (quote:) ‘The bread you possess belongs to the hungry. The clothes you store in boxes, belong to the naked. The shoes rotting by you, belong to the bare-foot. The money you hide belongs to anyone in need.’”
BENEDICTION: Through God’s grace, by being attentive to God’s will, our deeds and our words will change our world for we will discover ways to proclaim release from the bondage of narrowness. Let us seek the God of Joy whose wisdom is our God. Let us go in peace to love and serve God. Amen.
[1] Note: this sermon is shorter than usual since our Annual Meeting happens inside the context of worship. Also note: the Baptist Pastor David Spiegel and his wife Martha were in the New York City area welcoming their fifth grandchild, William (first child for their daughter Shannon), into the world. Hence, members of the First Baptist Church were also with us on this day.
Prophesying [1]
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, / and before you were born I consecrated you; / I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” — Jeremiah 1:5.
I told this story here once here before but it as a long, long time ago so I’m going to chance repeating it. When I was in my twenties I was in a men’s group who got together for what they deemed to be serious discussions.
The evening meetings happened sporadically, usually timed to coincide with a basketball, baseball or football game on television. We would have our so called “serious discussion,” then watch a game, drink beer and eat pretzels.
Which is also to say we may have been serious about it, but the real reason for meeting was not the chosen topic of the day. The real reason was to watch a sporting event, drink beer, eat pretzels and shout at the TV.
One evening the topic was simple: is it O.K. for a Christian to be a communist? After most of the people present delivered a scathing opinion of communism— this was the early 1970s— I piped up and said it was O.K. for a Christian to be a communist, O.K. for a Christian to be a capitalist, O.K. for a Christian to be a socialist, etc., etc., etc.
What was not O.K. was for a Christian to be a greedy communist or a greedy capitalist or a greedy socialist. That ended the discussion, for which the others were grateful since it was nearly game time.
Starting in the late 1940s fear of so called “Godless communism” became rampant in America. As I think that story illustrates, what is Godless in economic systems is not the system. What makes any economic system Godless is greed. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, / and before you were born I consecrated you; / I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” (Slight pause.)
Many of you have heard me say this: a prophet does not predict the future. Biblical prophecy is not about predicting the future. Prophecy, Biblical prophecy, is when one speaks the Word of God, the truth of God, the reality of God. Therefore, prophecy in the Biblical sense is about now— right now. (Slight pause.)
So, I believe this to be a word of prophecy— at least as I see it— and I hope as God sees it. Greed makes communism Godless, socialism Godless, capitalism Godless. And we need to be as wary of Godless capitalism as we need to be wary of Godlessness in any other system or, indeed, anything else.
In fact, in the reading from Luke Jesus offers a prophecy, a true prophecy. Jesus proclaims the Word of God, the truth of God, the reality of God. Jesus says to bring good news to those who are poor, to proclaim release, liberty to those held captive, recovery of sight to those who are blind, release to those in prison and to proclaim the year of God’s favor is prophecy. It is about now.
So, here’s a question: is that prophecy Jesus offered— is that prophecy too tall an order for us in our times, now? And are these words Jesus spoke not a true calling for we Christians, now? (Slight pause.)
Today we have looked at and passed a budget. I want to suggest as dry a topic as finance is for some, especially in budgets we can and we must speak the Word of God.
So the serious question before us today has been— whether or not we acknowledged it— the serious question before us today has been this: is our budget prophetic enough? Did our budget say anything about the truth of the Word of God? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest one way we can infuse prophecy into our budget, the make up of our budget, is for more of us to be involved with it. To be clear, I think the Trustees do an outstanding job, a wonderful job and, as I said, finance can be a dry topic for some of us. But I also think more of us need to be involved with the prophecy found in the budget— and it’s there.
Indeed, I believe prophecy— speaking the Word of God— is our call as Christians, as I said. And our budget needs to be a full fledged part of that prophecy.
Why do I say this? Well, the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah has this statement you heard earlier (quote:) “I appointed you— I appointed you— a prophet to the nations.” Amen.
01/31/2016
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “I want to leave you with two thoughts: the first is from the contemporary troubadour Bob Dylan (quote:) ‘I think you will find / When your death takes its toll / All the money you made / Will never buy back your soul.’ The second is from Saint Basil a fourth century theologian and monastic (quote:) ‘The bread you possess belongs to the hungry. The clothes you store in boxes, belong to the naked. The shoes rotting by you, belong to the bare-foot. The money you hide belongs to anyone in need.’”
BENEDICTION: Through God’s grace, by being attentive to God’s will, our deeds and our words will change our world for we will discover ways to proclaim release from the bondage of narrowness. Let us seek the God of Joy whose wisdom is our God. Let us go in peace to love and serve God. Amen.
[1] Note: this sermon is shorter than usual since our Annual Meeting happens inside the context of worship. Also note: the Baptist Pastor David Spiegel and his wife Martha were in the New York City area welcoming their fifth grandchild, William (first child for their daughter Shannon), into the world. Hence, members of the First Baptist Church were also with us on this day.
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