02/05/2017 ~ Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 58:1-9a (9b-12) ; Psalm 112:1-9 (10); 1 Corinthians 2:1-12 (13-16); Matthew 5:13-20 ~ Communion Sunday.
Your Light
“Is not this the fast I choose, / the fast that pleases me: / that the bonds of injustice / be removed, / undo the thongs, / the rope of the yoke! / Let those who are oppressed go free, / and break every yoke you encounter! / Share your bread / with those who are hungry,...” — Isaiah 58:6-7a.
I have often said the Rev. Carol Anderson was one of my mentors in ministry. Carol was in the first class of women ordained in the Episcopal Church. In the sequence of those, she was the third ordained, the first in the New York Diocese.
In a newspaper interview around that time she was asked how people might address her: Reverend? Father? Mother? She responded, “My name is Carol.”
The interviewer pressed: should you not now be addressed with some title? She said nothing has changed with me, with who I am, with what I do. I have been working in ministry for years and my name has certainly not changed. I’m just a woman from New Jersey. And my name is Carol. (Slight pause.)
Carol was always clear about something else. She understood ordination is, or at least can be, a recognition of ministry someone is doing already or has done.
What had Carol already done? She had, for instance, gone to the South one Summer in the 60s to work on voter registration. Carol would be the first to say she made a small contribution to a larger effort. She helped at most a little more than hundred people whereas tens of thousands were registered.
One more item: Carol understood that, not for centuries but for millennia, many women felt called to ordained ministry and were not afforded that recognition. Since she did feel called to ordination she understood she was privileged to live in a time that afforded her recognition. But she, herself, felt the sum total of what she did was infinitesimal compared to what had been done by the many who had gone before her and were not allowed ordination.
And she also understood ministry is about doing one thing at a time, taking one step at a time. And, most importantly, she understood she was... simply... just... Carol— no... big... deal. (Slight pause.)
And so it came to pass that Carol served as Rector— that’s Episcopal talk for Pastor— Carol served as Rector at All Angels Episcopal Church on the Upper West Side of Manhattan where I was a member. And when I say Carol was a mentor as I said earlier, I tied to take to heart her lesson that ministry is about doing one thing at a time, taking one step at a time.
And so it came to pass that All Angels Church that we started a Sunday afternoon lunch for anyone who wanted to come. Mostly people who lived on the street, those without homes, showed up. But also some folks came who simply wanted companionship, social contact.
And so it came to pass that I would arrive at church around 8:00 a.m. on a Sunday, grab a push cart, go around the corner to Zabar’s Deli and pick up their day old bread— boxes and boxes of it. It was good bread but bread they would no longer sell to the public, it being a day old, bread which we would in turn serve with the meal on those Sunday afternoons.
Usually I could not hang out to help with those meals. But I could get the bread at 8:00 a.m. when no one else could. And every Sunday afternoon we, the members of the church, fed hundreds.
So I came to understand ministry is about doing one thing at a time, taking one step at a time, thereby being a part of something larger. And, by the way, I’m a guy from Brooklyn who has come to understand I’m simply... just... Joe— no... big... deal. (Slight pause.)
We hear these words in the Scroll of the Prophet Isaiah: “Is not this the fast I choose, / the fast that pleases me: / that the bonds of injustice / be removed, / undo the thongs, / the rope of the yoke! / Let those who are oppressed go free, / and break every yoke you encounter! / Share your bread / with those who are hungry,...” (Slight pause.)
In my comments a couple of weeks ago I said we are a society that likes big. After all, our American baseball championship is not simply a championship between leagues. It’s called a World Series. Our American football championship game is not simply a game between conferences. We call it a Super Bowl.
And, as I said in those comments a couple of weeks ago, we live in a society that is used to big. Big is how we think. Our culture is uncomfortable with small. (Slight pause.)
You see, in the reading from Matthew Jesus says (quote:) “You are the light of the world.” In our modern way I believe we tend to think of, perhaps, artificial illumination when we hear those words. And we think it’s a bright light, a large light, an intense light.
However, Jesus goes onto say (quote:) “No one, after lighting a lamp, puts it under the bushel basket but on the lamp-stand,....” Jesus could just have easily said, “You light is like the Sun which breaks forth from the clouds on a dreary day.”
But that is not what Jesus said. Jesus said, “No one, after lighting a lamp, puts it under the bushel basket but on the lamp-stand,....” Given that era, how bright would that light have been?
Given that era, there are three things that lamp light would not be: bright, large, intense. But it would have been a light to the world because, as dim as it might have been compared to the Sun, it would be a light to help people see. And it would have been small light, a tiny light. (Slight pause.)
Now to reiterate, we are addicted to big. But I want to suggest ministry is small. Ministry is one person at a time doing what they can, when they can, where they can, as well as they can.
Equally, let me address what ministry is not. Ministry is not hiding in the shadows. Ministry is not being afraid of the night. Ministry means tackling problems.
The problems may be big. Indeed, problems may be and often are systemic, problems which are ingrained, so ingrained we may not even recognize them as problems. But ingrained problems are, by definition, big problems. And the only way to tackle something big is to start small, one step at a time.
Carol may have helped a little more than hundred people register to vote that Summer she spent in the South. And as those things go, that’s not a lot of people. But Carol did her part.
When I scooted around the corner to Zabar’s I picked up 8 or 10 boxes of bread and it took, maybe, a half an hour. As those things go, that’s not a lot of time, not a lot of effort. But the church fed hundreds every week. I did my part.
Ministry, you see, happens in these small steps. And therefore, ministry requires humility— let me say that again— ministry requires humility— the humility to say I am willing to do something small as a part of something larger. Ministry is, hence, often not valued by our society. After all, our society is used to big, likes big, thinks big and is quite uncomfortable with small. (Slight pause.)
Confession: I may not know a lot but I know this: every time I’m tempted to think ministry is about big I remind myself of a basic truth. I’m a guy from Brooklyn who has come to understand I’m just... simply... Joe— no... big... deal. Amen.
02/05/2017
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “There is no question about this: there are systemic problems, big problems. But I do not care who you are or how important you think you are, you cannot fix the system from the top/down. But you can help make things work from the bottom/up. And bottom/up is the basic definition of two things. Bottom/up is the basic definition of who we are as a church: Congregational. And bottom/up is the basic definition of ministry.”
BENEDICTION: We are commissioned by God to carry the peace of God into the world. Our words and our deeds will be used by God, for we become messengers of the Word of God in our actions. Let us recognize that the transforming power of God is forever among us. And may we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much. May we be so in awe of God that we are in awe of no one and nothing else. Amen.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
Sunday, January 29, 2017
SERMON ~ 01/29/2017 ~ “Good”
01/29/2017 ~ Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Micah 6:1-8; Psalm 15; 1 Corinthians 1:18-31; Matthew 5:1-12 ~ Annual Financial Meeting of the Church.
Good
“Listen, O mortal: / God has made abundantly clear / what “good” is; / what does Yahweh require from you / but to simply do justice, / to love covenant loyalty, / and to walk humbly with your God?” — Micah 6:8.
Neil Cazares-Thomas is the Pastor at the Cathedral of Hope, a large church, a member church of the United Church of Christ in Dallas, Texas. He and I are Facebook friends and we have an interesting personal, pastoral connection.
On July 10th, 2011 I officiated at a Commitment Ceremony for our niece Phoebe and her partner Rosalie in the State of Maine. Such ceremonies had no legal standing at that time.
As I am sure you know these marriages acquired legal standing on June 26th, 2014 with a ruling by the Supreme Court. Shortly after that, in part because these unions were now legal, Neil, who was at that time in Los Angels and the pastor of Rosalie and Phoebe, officiated at another ceremony for them and signed a legal document.
This happened on July the 10, 2014— the same date as initial ceremony so their anniversary could be the same. Neil also used the same ceremony I had used, making it very special.
In a recent Facebook post, Facebook being a place where Neil and I can maintain our relationship, he said he was participating currently in a creative writing class. This writing came forth from his pen because of that class. (Slight pause.)
In our world today we are often so busy reacting, we have no time to process and to respond to the Spirit’s call on our lives. Listening to Spirit, listening to one another— to hear God— is something Jesus often did.
Jesus took time to pray and to discern God’s direction. We need to listen more deeply amid the noise of the world. The noise heard in this world often portrays a God Who is in stark contrast to the God lived out in the life of Jesus.
So— Neil then wrote— I am here to holler out— I have a God who has been misrepresented, misplaced, here to holler out that the real voice of God is little spoken of in a world so determined to see God in its image. That secular God is a God who appeases misogyny, racism, sexism, homophobia— everything that separates us, moves us away from love.
I am here to holler out about a God who dares us— dares me— to embody, to reclaim, to proclaim the God of the oppressed, the marginalized, the victimized. I am here to holler out and awake in us a God who remakes us, a God who remakes us not in our own image of God but in God’s image in us.
You, me, us— let us holler together and rise again like a phoenix, rise to greet the challenge of a God in us, in me, in you. I am here to holler out, to shout out, to scream out, like a voice in the wilderness, a voice in the darkness, a voice to awaken us from our sleep and from our slumber — words of the Reverend Mr. Neil Cazares-Thomas— perhaps sounding a little like Lin Miranda-Manuel in Hamilton. [1] (Pause.)
We hear these words in the work known as Micah: “Listen, O mortal: / God has made abundantly clear / what “good” is; / what does Yahweh require from you / but to simply do justice, / to love covenant loyalty, / and to walk humbly with your God?” (Slight pause.)
The challenge here is clear: “what is good?” Doing good is not the same as doing well. And we, as the words written by Neil indicate, we live in a society much more concerned with doing well than doing good— God in its image, God in the image of the world— instead of God’s image reflected in us.
To be clear: I am not against doing well. But should doing well be a priority? Or should doing good be a priority? The prophet Micah is clear. God has a priority: do good. Live life in God’s image— humble covenant justice. (Slight pause.)
In a short time we shall look at a budget. I would be the first to say a lot of what we do with that budget does good in many ways. These things are listed and cover all kinds of stuff from the Deacons Fund to Family Counseling Ministry to Hospice.
But I also think we need to follow the imperative of Micah as we consider the budget. We need to be much more concerned with doing good than with doing well.
You see, if doing well becomes our priority as we examine these numbers, then we abandon the imperative God has for the world. We abandon the imperative God has for us. And what is that imperative? Do... good... first. Or as the Prophet Micah says, do justice, love covenant loyalty, walk humbly with your God. Amen.
01/29/2017
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
Annual Meeting Sunday [2]
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “We heard from the Prophet Micah today. We also heard the passage commonly known as the Beatitudes. If I were to sum all of them up in a single sentence I think it would come out something like this: ‘Blessed are those who do good.’ Not once could any of the statements in the Beatitudes be condensed to say ‘Blessed are those who do well.’”
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: these words are not surrounded by quotation marks because they were slightly edited for this context. Any alteration in meaning is the fault of the one offering the sermon as opposed to the original author.
[2] Since the Annual Budget Meeting of the church happens within the service of worship, this sermon is shorter than many.
Good
“Listen, O mortal: / God has made abundantly clear / what “good” is; / what does Yahweh require from you / but to simply do justice, / to love covenant loyalty, / and to walk humbly with your God?” — Micah 6:8.
Neil Cazares-Thomas is the Pastor at the Cathedral of Hope, a large church, a member church of the United Church of Christ in Dallas, Texas. He and I are Facebook friends and we have an interesting personal, pastoral connection.
On July 10th, 2011 I officiated at a Commitment Ceremony for our niece Phoebe and her partner Rosalie in the State of Maine. Such ceremonies had no legal standing at that time.
As I am sure you know these marriages acquired legal standing on June 26th, 2014 with a ruling by the Supreme Court. Shortly after that, in part because these unions were now legal, Neil, who was at that time in Los Angels and the pastor of Rosalie and Phoebe, officiated at another ceremony for them and signed a legal document.
This happened on July the 10, 2014— the same date as initial ceremony so their anniversary could be the same. Neil also used the same ceremony I had used, making it very special.
In a recent Facebook post, Facebook being a place where Neil and I can maintain our relationship, he said he was participating currently in a creative writing class. This writing came forth from his pen because of that class. (Slight pause.)
In our world today we are often so busy reacting, we have no time to process and to respond to the Spirit’s call on our lives. Listening to Spirit, listening to one another— to hear God— is something Jesus often did.
Jesus took time to pray and to discern God’s direction. We need to listen more deeply amid the noise of the world. The noise heard in this world often portrays a God Who is in stark contrast to the God lived out in the life of Jesus.
So— Neil then wrote— I am here to holler out— I have a God who has been misrepresented, misplaced, here to holler out that the real voice of God is little spoken of in a world so determined to see God in its image. That secular God is a God who appeases misogyny, racism, sexism, homophobia— everything that separates us, moves us away from love.
I am here to holler out about a God who dares us— dares me— to embody, to reclaim, to proclaim the God of the oppressed, the marginalized, the victimized. I am here to holler out and awake in us a God who remakes us, a God who remakes us not in our own image of God but in God’s image in us.
You, me, us— let us holler together and rise again like a phoenix, rise to greet the challenge of a God in us, in me, in you. I am here to holler out, to shout out, to scream out, like a voice in the wilderness, a voice in the darkness, a voice to awaken us from our sleep and from our slumber — words of the Reverend Mr. Neil Cazares-Thomas— perhaps sounding a little like Lin Miranda-Manuel in Hamilton. [1] (Pause.)
We hear these words in the work known as Micah: “Listen, O mortal: / God has made abundantly clear / what “good” is; / what does Yahweh require from you / but to simply do justice, / to love covenant loyalty, / and to walk humbly with your God?” (Slight pause.)
The challenge here is clear: “what is good?” Doing good is not the same as doing well. And we, as the words written by Neil indicate, we live in a society much more concerned with doing well than doing good— God in its image, God in the image of the world— instead of God’s image reflected in us.
To be clear: I am not against doing well. But should doing well be a priority? Or should doing good be a priority? The prophet Micah is clear. God has a priority: do good. Live life in God’s image— humble covenant justice. (Slight pause.)
In a short time we shall look at a budget. I would be the first to say a lot of what we do with that budget does good in many ways. These things are listed and cover all kinds of stuff from the Deacons Fund to Family Counseling Ministry to Hospice.
But I also think we need to follow the imperative of Micah as we consider the budget. We need to be much more concerned with doing good than with doing well.
You see, if doing well becomes our priority as we examine these numbers, then we abandon the imperative God has for the world. We abandon the imperative God has for us. And what is that imperative? Do... good... first. Or as the Prophet Micah says, do justice, love covenant loyalty, walk humbly with your God. Amen.
01/29/2017
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
Annual Meeting Sunday [2]
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “We heard from the Prophet Micah today. We also heard the passage commonly known as the Beatitudes. If I were to sum all of them up in a single sentence I think it would come out something like this: ‘Blessed are those who do good.’ Not once could any of the statements in the Beatitudes be condensed to say ‘Blessed are those who do well.’”
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: these words are not surrounded by quotation marks because they were slightly edited for this context. Any alteration in meaning is the fault of the one offering the sermon as opposed to the original author.
[2] Since the Annual Budget Meeting of the church happens within the service of worship, this sermon is shorter than many.
Monday, January 16, 2017
SERMON ~ 01/15/2017 ~ “Small”
01/15/2017 ~ Second Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42 ~ Weekend of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday on the Secular Calendar ~ Communion Sunday.
Small
“Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, together with our brother Sosthenes, to the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified, consecrated, in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God, together with all those who, wherever they may be, call on the name of Jesus, the Christ, who is both their Savior and ours:...” — 1 Corinthians 1:1-2.
I have at least several other occasions started my Sunday comments in the way I am about to start them. “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....”
To be clear, a long time ago would be somewhere between thirty and forty years in the past— that certainly seems like it’s a long time ago. A galaxy far, far away would be New York City— that certainly seems like it’s at least a different planet.
And in that time long ago, that galaxy called New York City, among the many jobs which kept food on my table while I was also working as a writer in professional theater was that of being a tour guide at South Street Seaport Museum. As a tour guide there I needed to know a lot about the museum and its grounds.
Yes, a seaport museum is about ships, but South Street is more than that. A significant part of the grounds are on dry land.
One section of the waterfront is a group of buildings known as the Schermerhorn Row. This set of six brick structures was built by one Peter Schermerhorn in 1811 to serve the growing seaport called New York.
These buildings were counting houses. What are counting houses? When cargo came off the ships which were right there it moved into these structures and was accounted for— counted there.
A more modern term for a counting house is warehouse. Please note: each of these structures is quite small— only four stories tall. Each took up only a tiny section of a city block. Put the other way around, these brick buildings are not at all big, at least not big the way we think of about the size of a warehouse today.
Today a warehouse can take up what is the equivalent of several large city blocks. So a little more than 200 years ago what they thought of as quite large— a warehouse where cargo was processed— we, today, think of as quite small, even tiny. Now, in 1811 the population of this country was just over 7,000,000. Today it’s about 319 million.
That’s more than 45 times larger than in 1811. In drawing this parallel I am trying to help us understand how different things are— small verses big— and how different things have become in just 200 years. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in First Corinthians: “Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, together with our brother Sosthenes, to the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified, consecrated, in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God, together with all those who, wherever they may be, call on the name of Jesus, the Christ, who is both their Savior and ours:...” (Slight pause.)
Today we live a society that is used to big. The seating capacity of stadiums used for major sporting events in this time is now often more than 50,000. Big is what we like. Big is how we think. In one sense, a cultural sense, we are uncomfortable with small.
The same was true of Roman society in New Testament times. That society thought big. That society was used to big. Big is what they liked. The population of the city of Rome— that’s the city of Rome not the Roman Empire— population in the city of Rome was about one million. In fact, the seating capacity of the Coliseum was about... 50,000.
All that sounds pretty modern, does it not? Indeed, in one sense, a cultural sense, the Romans were quite uncomfortable with small.
To be clear, at least 90% of that population of 1,000,000 in the city of Rome lived under conditions that you and I would call slavery. Hence, the economic system could only be described as an economic system based on domination— humans enslaving humans. When you get down to it, it seems to me humans enslaving other humans might simply a by-product of big— it lacks intimacy— big. (Slight pause.)
And so, Paul writes to this church in Corinth in this society. How big is the church in Corinth? How many people made up the membership of that church? Hundreds? Thousands? Did they gathered in some large amphitheater to listen to Paul? (Slight pause.)
No one really knows how big that church was. But we can and do have a very educated guess. The church in Corinth was not just small. The church in Corinth was very, very small— tiny. It would have had less than 50 people.
And we can make an educated guess like that because Biblical scholars and secular historians are fairly confident about two dates and one fact. The two dates: we are fairly confident this letter to the Church in Corinth was composed in the year 54 of the Common Era. We are fairly confident Paul died in the year 64 of the Common Era.
The fact: we are fairly confident that in the year 100 of the Common Era— 36 years after Paul dies— the number of Christians in the entire Mediterranean basin is also very, very small— tiny by any standard. Biblical scholars and secular historians are fairly confident the number of Christians in the entire Mediterranean basin in the year 100 is still less than... 10,000.
Please also note and as was already stated, population of Rome was about 1,000,000; the seating capacity of the Coliseum was about 50,000— big. The Christian population in the Mediterranean basin in the year 100? 10,000— small. (Slight pause.)
At the end of this reading we hear these words (quote:) “For God, through whom you have been called into intimacy with Jesus, our Savior, is faithful.”
Intimacy— now there’s an interesting word, especially in reference to God. One of several definitions of the word says intimacy is an interpersonal relationship that involves emotion. Intimacy, therefore, demands one on one relationship. Intimacy demands closeness. Intimacy demands looking someone else in the eye. This is obvious: you do not have lunch with 50,000 of your closest friends. Closeness demands small. (Slight pause.)
This weekend we remember the legacy of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Often what we remember about Dr. King is big— the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, the “I have a dream...” speech, the Nobel Prize and the speech King gave on that occasion. Those are big things.
But I think King’s most important contributions had a much smaller feel, such as the one on one interactions it’s likely this pastor had with parishioners in times of crisis. That is what pastor do often, you know— one on one.
So perhaps what we need to realize today is things may become big, may make a splash, may make noise. But often making noise results in us losing our voice... our real voice. Why? I think big requires that we get too loud.
And when we get too loud, we lose our real voice because we lose intimacy. We lose our one to one touch with others. As I suggested, intimacy is not about having lunch with 50,000 of your closest friends. Intimacy is more real than that. (Slight pause.)
All that leads me to a question: what is our real voice? What is our true self? Well, Paul says Jesus is faithful. And perhaps that is a key.
You see, I think we need to emulate Jesus in faithfulness. We need to be aware the call of God on our lives is to walk in the will of God, to express the love of God, to know the path of God.
I think the path God would have us trod, the path to which God calls us is intimate, small, one on one. Therefore, instead of thinking about issues of justice in big ways perhaps what we, each of us, needs to do is to seek the justice God seeks one on one, person to person, one step at a time.
Indeed, as Paul tells us, we are called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God. And I believe that work means faithfully— faithfully seeking justice one step at a time, one person at a time.
So, this is where I’m at: seeking justice is a small act. And it is small act because it is done one on one, face to face. Indeed, it is hard to deny another person justice when you are looking them in the eye, when you know them.
And when each of us seeks the justice of God— each of us acting in small ways, each of us doing our own part, each of us taking personal responsibility to seek justice— that— that is when seeking justice becomes big. Indeed, I believe when we seek justice we become faithful disciples of Christ. Faithfulness— now there is a big thought— faithfulness. Amen.
01/15/2017
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Scripture tells us— First Kings 19 to be precise— Scripture tells us the voice of God comes in a gentle whisper. I, myself, tend to be wary of loud. So, please do listen for a gentle whispers. And please don’t reject small simply because it’s small.”
BENEDICTION: Let us learn as faithful disciples of Christ. Let us know that God is available to us at any time and in any place. Let us give thanks for the grace of God in Christ, Jesus. Let us trust in God for all time and for all eternity. Amen.
Small
“Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, together with our brother Sosthenes, to the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified, consecrated, in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God, together with all those who, wherever they may be, call on the name of Jesus, the Christ, who is both their Savior and ours:...” — 1 Corinthians 1:1-2.
I have at least several other occasions started my Sunday comments in the way I am about to start them. “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....”
To be clear, a long time ago would be somewhere between thirty and forty years in the past— that certainly seems like it’s a long time ago. A galaxy far, far away would be New York City— that certainly seems like it’s at least a different planet.
And in that time long ago, that galaxy called New York City, among the many jobs which kept food on my table while I was also working as a writer in professional theater was that of being a tour guide at South Street Seaport Museum. As a tour guide there I needed to know a lot about the museum and its grounds.
Yes, a seaport museum is about ships, but South Street is more than that. A significant part of the grounds are on dry land.
One section of the waterfront is a group of buildings known as the Schermerhorn Row. This set of six brick structures was built by one Peter Schermerhorn in 1811 to serve the growing seaport called New York.
These buildings were counting houses. What are counting houses? When cargo came off the ships which were right there it moved into these structures and was accounted for— counted there.
A more modern term for a counting house is warehouse. Please note: each of these structures is quite small— only four stories tall. Each took up only a tiny section of a city block. Put the other way around, these brick buildings are not at all big, at least not big the way we think of about the size of a warehouse today.
Today a warehouse can take up what is the equivalent of several large city blocks. So a little more than 200 years ago what they thought of as quite large— a warehouse where cargo was processed— we, today, think of as quite small, even tiny. Now, in 1811 the population of this country was just over 7,000,000. Today it’s about 319 million.
That’s more than 45 times larger than in 1811. In drawing this parallel I am trying to help us understand how different things are— small verses big— and how different things have become in just 200 years. (Slight pause.)
We find these words in First Corinthians: “Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, together with our brother Sosthenes, to the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified, consecrated, in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God, together with all those who, wherever they may be, call on the name of Jesus, the Christ, who is both their Savior and ours:...” (Slight pause.)
Today we live a society that is used to big. The seating capacity of stadiums used for major sporting events in this time is now often more than 50,000. Big is what we like. Big is how we think. In one sense, a cultural sense, we are uncomfortable with small.
The same was true of Roman society in New Testament times. That society thought big. That society was used to big. Big is what they liked. The population of the city of Rome— that’s the city of Rome not the Roman Empire— population in the city of Rome was about one million. In fact, the seating capacity of the Coliseum was about... 50,000.
All that sounds pretty modern, does it not? Indeed, in one sense, a cultural sense, the Romans were quite uncomfortable with small.
To be clear, at least 90% of that population of 1,000,000 in the city of Rome lived under conditions that you and I would call slavery. Hence, the economic system could only be described as an economic system based on domination— humans enslaving humans. When you get down to it, it seems to me humans enslaving other humans might simply a by-product of big— it lacks intimacy— big. (Slight pause.)
And so, Paul writes to this church in Corinth in this society. How big is the church in Corinth? How many people made up the membership of that church? Hundreds? Thousands? Did they gathered in some large amphitheater to listen to Paul? (Slight pause.)
No one really knows how big that church was. But we can and do have a very educated guess. The church in Corinth was not just small. The church in Corinth was very, very small— tiny. It would have had less than 50 people.
And we can make an educated guess like that because Biblical scholars and secular historians are fairly confident about two dates and one fact. The two dates: we are fairly confident this letter to the Church in Corinth was composed in the year 54 of the Common Era. We are fairly confident Paul died in the year 64 of the Common Era.
The fact: we are fairly confident that in the year 100 of the Common Era— 36 years after Paul dies— the number of Christians in the entire Mediterranean basin is also very, very small— tiny by any standard. Biblical scholars and secular historians are fairly confident the number of Christians in the entire Mediterranean basin in the year 100 is still less than... 10,000.
Please also note and as was already stated, population of Rome was about 1,000,000; the seating capacity of the Coliseum was about 50,000— big. The Christian population in the Mediterranean basin in the year 100? 10,000— small. (Slight pause.)
At the end of this reading we hear these words (quote:) “For God, through whom you have been called into intimacy with Jesus, our Savior, is faithful.”
Intimacy— now there’s an interesting word, especially in reference to God. One of several definitions of the word says intimacy is an interpersonal relationship that involves emotion. Intimacy, therefore, demands one on one relationship. Intimacy demands closeness. Intimacy demands looking someone else in the eye. This is obvious: you do not have lunch with 50,000 of your closest friends. Closeness demands small. (Slight pause.)
This weekend we remember the legacy of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Often what we remember about Dr. King is big— the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, the “I have a dream...” speech, the Nobel Prize and the speech King gave on that occasion. Those are big things.
But I think King’s most important contributions had a much smaller feel, such as the one on one interactions it’s likely this pastor had with parishioners in times of crisis. That is what pastor do often, you know— one on one.
So perhaps what we need to realize today is things may become big, may make a splash, may make noise. But often making noise results in us losing our voice... our real voice. Why? I think big requires that we get too loud.
And when we get too loud, we lose our real voice because we lose intimacy. We lose our one to one touch with others. As I suggested, intimacy is not about having lunch with 50,000 of your closest friends. Intimacy is more real than that. (Slight pause.)
All that leads me to a question: what is our real voice? What is our true self? Well, Paul says Jesus is faithful. And perhaps that is a key.
You see, I think we need to emulate Jesus in faithfulness. We need to be aware the call of God on our lives is to walk in the will of God, to express the love of God, to know the path of God.
I think the path God would have us trod, the path to which God calls us is intimate, small, one on one. Therefore, instead of thinking about issues of justice in big ways perhaps what we, each of us, needs to do is to seek the justice God seeks one on one, person to person, one step at a time.
Indeed, as Paul tells us, we are called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God. And I believe that work means faithfully— faithfully seeking justice one step at a time, one person at a time.
So, this is where I’m at: seeking justice is a small act. And it is small act because it is done one on one, face to face. Indeed, it is hard to deny another person justice when you are looking them in the eye, when you know them.
And when each of us seeks the justice of God— each of us acting in small ways, each of us doing our own part, each of us taking personal responsibility to seek justice— that— that is when seeking justice becomes big. Indeed, I believe when we seek justice we become faithful disciples of Christ. Faithfulness— now there is a big thought— faithfulness. Amen.
01/15/2017
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Scripture tells us— First Kings 19 to be precise— Scripture tells us the voice of God comes in a gentle whisper. I, myself, tend to be wary of loud. So, please do listen for a gentle whispers. And please don’t reject small simply because it’s small.”
BENEDICTION: Let us learn as faithful disciples of Christ. Let us know that God is available to us at any time and in any place. Let us give thanks for the grace of God in Christ, Jesus. Let us trust in God for all time and for all eternity. Amen.
Sunday, January 8, 2017
SERMON ~ 01/08/2017 ~ “The Forgotten Person”
01/08/2017 ~ First Sunday after the Epiphany, Known in Some Traditions as the Baptism of the Christ and Know in Some Traditions as the First Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Proper 1 ~ Isaiah 42:1-9; Psalm 29; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17 ~ Un-decorate Church ~ Soup and Bread Lunch ~ Blessing of the Stuffed Animals ~ Contribution of Stuffed Animals for Those in Need.
The Forgotten Person
“Peter was still speaking and had not yet finished these words when the Holy Spirit was upon all who were listening to the message Peter was sharing.” — Acts 10:44
I want to start my comments today with a little history— local history. The Chenango Canal was built and operated in the mid-19th century. It was a 97 miles long towpath canal.
For much of its course this waterway followed the Chenango River and followed what would today mostly be along Route 12 from Binghamton to Utica. It provided a significant link in the water transportation system of the northeastern United States and more specifically connected the Susquehanna River to the Erie Canal.
Mostly Irish and Scottish immigrant laborers built the ditch— digging by hand— using pick and shovel, chipping through rock, wading through marsh. They were paid $11 per month. $11 a month was three times the wage of a common laborer in that era.
The canal became fully operational in 1836. As a comparison, the Erie Canal opened in 1825, just 11 years earlier. But hindsight tells us, as these things go, 1836 was a little late in the grand era of canals on this continent.
Needless to say new technology caught up with the canal. In 1848 trains first arrived in Binghamton. That new technology, the arrival of the ‘iron horse’ spelled the eventual end for the canal. The railroad built north up that same Chenango River Valley.
The canal closed in 1878. Let me do the math for you. 1836 to 1878— that means the Chenango Canal was open and operational for a grand total of just 42 years. Even in that earlier time, 42 years was less than a single lifetime.
Of course, all technology has its day. The railroads were eventually replaced by the so called ‘horseless carriages.’
But rather than think of these changes in terms of the technology, I want to invite you to think of them in terms of people. With each technological innovation— from the canal to the iron horse to the horseless carriage— these innovations meant two things for people.
Each transition meant fewer jobs, fewer people needed to do what had been done before. For many each transition meant learning a new technology. Each of these transitions also and importantly meant a profound disruption in the workplace and a profound disruption in the economy at large.
Here’s good news and bad news: change is still happening. There is much talk these days about driver-less cars. Indeed, they are happening and they will happen on a much larger scale than is current.
But that will not be the big change. The big change will be driver-less delivery trucks. Supermarket and store deliveries, deliveries of packages to your front door will be automated, done without any need for human involvement. That means less jobs. Imagine the disruption to the economy when most of the jobs in the trucking industry just disappear. (Slight pause.)
In a recent New York Times article Dov Seidman, C.E.O. of an outfit which advises companies on leadership and how to build ethical cultures said, “What we are experiencing today bears similarities in size and implications to the scientific revolution that began in the late 16th century. The discoveries of Copernicus and Galileo, which spurred that scientific revolution, challenged our whole understanding of the world— the world right around and the world beyond us— and forced us as humans to rethink our place within it.”
“Once scientific methods became enshrined, we used science and reason— thinking— to navigate our way forward. The French philosopher René Descartes crystallized this age of reason in one phrase: ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Descartes’s point was that it is our ability to ‘think’ that most distinguished humans from all the other animals on earth.”
But the technological revolution is forcing us to answer a profound question— one we’ve never had to ask before. ‘What does it mean to be human in the age of intelligent machines?’ Machines, after all, now think. The answer, says Seidman, is the one thing machines will never have: “heart”— humans have heart. [1] (Slight pause.)
We hear these words in Luke/Acts in the section commonly called Acts: “Peter was still speaking and had not yet finished these words when the Holy Spirit was upon all who were listening to the message Peter was sharing.” (Slight pause.)
In this reading the message Peter offers starts with these words (quote): “Now I begin to see that God shows no partiality and I truly understand that in any nation anyone who is in awe of God and does what is right is acceptable to God.” What this tells us about where Peter is at should be obvious.
Even at this late point it is evident Peter maintains a resistance to the radical inclusion and inclusiveness of all humanity. But this— radical inclusion and inclusiveness— is a key portion of the preaching of Jesus.
In Peter’s defense, for me that raises a simple question. Why should all humanity be included? What is it in a proclamation of Jesus which insists on inclusion and inclusiveness? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest the proclamation of Jesus says... God is present; the proclamation of Jesus says God is real, the proclamation of Jesus says God is with us, says God is active. For me that is why an insistence in this passage that the Holy Spirit is present is a pivotal point. This is a proclamation that the presence of the Spirit of God, the presence of God, is a given. God is here, with us, now.
I therefore also want to suggest a proclamation of the Gospel inherently insists God loves us. With God there are no outcasts. With God there is no one who is less than any other. God loves each of us. God loves all of us. God loves humanity. Put differently, God has heart. Indeed, this is the way we usually hear that same idea: God loves. (Slight pause.)
That beings us back to the question, ‘What does it mean to be human?’ Seidman said we have the one thing machines will never have: “heart.” We love. And the Gospel message, the message of the Spirit of God, the message of the presence of God, is that we are all included in the love God offers and... God wants us to love one another. (Slight pause.)
In a couple of moments we will have our blessing of the stuffed animals. These hare inanimate objects, are they not? However, they can also represent the love we have. And sometimes that representation is helpful for us.
So let us understand how God relates to us: love. Let us understand what makes us human: love. Let us understand God invites us to love one another. Let us understand what radical inclusion and inclusiveness really is. Let us understand how it is really defined: love. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
01/08/2017
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Earlier I asked the question what does it mean to be human. One could argue that to be human means to experience constant change— changes in the workplace, changes in the economic system, changes in our family situations. For the most part and as a species we don’t like change. Fine. Let me suggest the constant in our lives is the presence of God and the love of God.”
BENEDICTION: May the Spirit of the God of light and love, the God of truth and justice, the God of song and joy, the God of all, be with you this day and forever more. Amen.
[1]
http://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/04/opinion/from-hands-to-heads-to-hearts.html?emc=edit_tnt_20170104&nlid=11820119&tntemail0=y
NY Times ~ The Opinion Pages ~ Op-Ed Columnist ~ From Hands to Heads to Hearts ~ Thomas L. Friedman ~ JAN. 4, 2017. Note: these words are occasionally paraphrased to fit the context of the sermon. Hence, any misrepresentation is the fault of this writer.
The Forgotten Person
“Peter was still speaking and had not yet finished these words when the Holy Spirit was upon all who were listening to the message Peter was sharing.” — Acts 10:44
I want to start my comments today with a little history— local history. The Chenango Canal was built and operated in the mid-19th century. It was a 97 miles long towpath canal.
For much of its course this waterway followed the Chenango River and followed what would today mostly be along Route 12 from Binghamton to Utica. It provided a significant link in the water transportation system of the northeastern United States and more specifically connected the Susquehanna River to the Erie Canal.
Mostly Irish and Scottish immigrant laborers built the ditch— digging by hand— using pick and shovel, chipping through rock, wading through marsh. They were paid $11 per month. $11 a month was three times the wage of a common laborer in that era.
The canal became fully operational in 1836. As a comparison, the Erie Canal opened in 1825, just 11 years earlier. But hindsight tells us, as these things go, 1836 was a little late in the grand era of canals on this continent.
Needless to say new technology caught up with the canal. In 1848 trains first arrived in Binghamton. That new technology, the arrival of the ‘iron horse’ spelled the eventual end for the canal. The railroad built north up that same Chenango River Valley.
The canal closed in 1878. Let me do the math for you. 1836 to 1878— that means the Chenango Canal was open and operational for a grand total of just 42 years. Even in that earlier time, 42 years was less than a single lifetime.
Of course, all technology has its day. The railroads were eventually replaced by the so called ‘horseless carriages.’
But rather than think of these changes in terms of the technology, I want to invite you to think of them in terms of people. With each technological innovation— from the canal to the iron horse to the horseless carriage— these innovations meant two things for people.
Each transition meant fewer jobs, fewer people needed to do what had been done before. For many each transition meant learning a new technology. Each of these transitions also and importantly meant a profound disruption in the workplace and a profound disruption in the economy at large.
Here’s good news and bad news: change is still happening. There is much talk these days about driver-less cars. Indeed, they are happening and they will happen on a much larger scale than is current.
But that will not be the big change. The big change will be driver-less delivery trucks. Supermarket and store deliveries, deliveries of packages to your front door will be automated, done without any need for human involvement. That means less jobs. Imagine the disruption to the economy when most of the jobs in the trucking industry just disappear. (Slight pause.)
In a recent New York Times article Dov Seidman, C.E.O. of an outfit which advises companies on leadership and how to build ethical cultures said, “What we are experiencing today bears similarities in size and implications to the scientific revolution that began in the late 16th century. The discoveries of Copernicus and Galileo, which spurred that scientific revolution, challenged our whole understanding of the world— the world right around and the world beyond us— and forced us as humans to rethink our place within it.”
“Once scientific methods became enshrined, we used science and reason— thinking— to navigate our way forward. The French philosopher René Descartes crystallized this age of reason in one phrase: ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Descartes’s point was that it is our ability to ‘think’ that most distinguished humans from all the other animals on earth.”
But the technological revolution is forcing us to answer a profound question— one we’ve never had to ask before. ‘What does it mean to be human in the age of intelligent machines?’ Machines, after all, now think. The answer, says Seidman, is the one thing machines will never have: “heart”— humans have heart. [1] (Slight pause.)
We hear these words in Luke/Acts in the section commonly called Acts: “Peter was still speaking and had not yet finished these words when the Holy Spirit was upon all who were listening to the message Peter was sharing.” (Slight pause.)
In this reading the message Peter offers starts with these words (quote): “Now I begin to see that God shows no partiality and I truly understand that in any nation anyone who is in awe of God and does what is right is acceptable to God.” What this tells us about where Peter is at should be obvious.
Even at this late point it is evident Peter maintains a resistance to the radical inclusion and inclusiveness of all humanity. But this— radical inclusion and inclusiveness— is a key portion of the preaching of Jesus.
In Peter’s defense, for me that raises a simple question. Why should all humanity be included? What is it in a proclamation of Jesus which insists on inclusion and inclusiveness? (Slight pause.)
I want to suggest the proclamation of Jesus says... God is present; the proclamation of Jesus says God is real, the proclamation of Jesus says God is with us, says God is active. For me that is why an insistence in this passage that the Holy Spirit is present is a pivotal point. This is a proclamation that the presence of the Spirit of God, the presence of God, is a given. God is here, with us, now.
I therefore also want to suggest a proclamation of the Gospel inherently insists God loves us. With God there are no outcasts. With God there is no one who is less than any other. God loves each of us. God loves all of us. God loves humanity. Put differently, God has heart. Indeed, this is the way we usually hear that same idea: God loves. (Slight pause.)
That beings us back to the question, ‘What does it mean to be human?’ Seidman said we have the one thing machines will never have: “heart.” We love. And the Gospel message, the message of the Spirit of God, the message of the presence of God, is that we are all included in the love God offers and... God wants us to love one another. (Slight pause.)
In a couple of moments we will have our blessing of the stuffed animals. These hare inanimate objects, are they not? However, they can also represent the love we have. And sometimes that representation is helpful for us.
So let us understand how God relates to us: love. Let us understand what makes us human: love. Let us understand God invites us to love one another. Let us understand what radical inclusion and inclusiveness really is. Let us understand how it is really defined: love. Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
01/08/2017
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Earlier I asked the question what does it mean to be human. One could argue that to be human means to experience constant change— changes in the workplace, changes in the economic system, changes in our family situations. For the most part and as a species we don’t like change. Fine. Let me suggest the constant in our lives is the presence of God and the love of God.”
BENEDICTION: May the Spirit of the God of light and love, the God of truth and justice, the God of song and joy, the God of all, be with you this day and forever more. Amen.
[1]
http://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/04/opinion/from-hands-to-heads-to-hearts.html?emc=edit_tnt_20170104&nlid=11820119&tntemail0=y
NY Times ~ The Opinion Pages ~ Op-Ed Columnist ~ From Hands to Heads to Hearts ~ Thomas L. Friedman ~ JAN. 4, 2017. Note: these words are occasionally paraphrased to fit the context of the sermon. Hence, any misrepresentation is the fault of this writer.
Monday, December 26, 2016
SERMON ~ 12/24/2016 ~ “The Light”
12/24/2016 ~ 12/25/2016 ~ Nativity of the Christ - Proper I ~ Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14, (15-20) ~ Proper II ~ Isaiah 62:6-12; Psalm 97; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:(1-7), 8-20 ~ Proper III ~ Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98; Hebrews 1:1-4, (5-12); John 1:1-14.
The Light
“The people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who lived in a land of deep shadows— / on them light is shining.” — Isaiah 9:2.
The depth of night had come upon the land. There was no light even though the stars were shining brightly in the sky and the moon was full. Their light was obliterated by a dense fog. Hence, the possibility of natural light illuminating anything was non-existent.
Dense fog was normal for the early Spring. [1] On this night it seemed to course through the hills around Bethlehem with a vengeance— thick, wet, impenetrable. But the fact that there was so little light, that it was so hard to see on this night mattered not to the master carpenter who lived and plied that trade, the trade of shaping, crafting, forming wood in this small, backwater town.
Already a full apprentice by age ten, at that tender age this carpenter somehow instinctively understood the sizing and shaping of tables, chairs. By dint of this early apprenticeship, the youngster learned how one bends wood to one’s own will. By twenty this worker of wood had launched a thriving, prosperous business.
Over the years many helpers were employed in the shop. Over the years those who showed promise, an aptitude, just as he had, also became full apprentices. Eventually, the best of these would work the trade themselves, branch out on their own. (Slight pause.)
The name of this carpenter was Isaiah. He always thought bearing the name of the prophet who spoke so often about light was an odd twist of fate.
That dense fog which coursed through the hills around Bethlehem this night making the world hard to see was meaningless to him. He could not see. This loss of vision happened when he was just thirty. It was no accident.
Isaiah had been standing outside the shop. Five soldiers of the occupying army of Rome chased a beggar up the street. Or was the one being chased a common criminal, or perhaps someone who had simply insulted a Roman official? It did not matter. The soldiers had charged up the street pushing people out of their way, shouting, overturning carts, cursing.
One of these soldiers seemed to think Isaiah got in the way. But the carpenter was simply trying to get out of the way. An unsheathed weapon slashed the air near Isaiah’s head. Trying to duck, he fell to the ground.
When he managed to struggle to his feet, bleeding, he realized... he could no longer see. It was mid-day. The sun was shining brightly. And he could... no... longer... see. And so, the absence of light in the depth of this particular night did not matter to Isaiah one bit. (Slight pause.)
Now— some thirty years after that incident— he still maintained the shop. He still had apprentices. And they loved him. He was kind, gentle, caring. And together, they— Isaiah and all those whom he mentored— produced a well made product.
He relied on those apprentices. After all, he could see only with his hands. Once a piece was made, the rough hewn hands of Isaiah touched every planed surface, every crevice, every angle of everything they made together to make sure it was right.
Only when the hands of the master carpenter said the work was good did it leave the shop. And so, the apprentices loved him not just for his kindness, his gentleness, his caring. They loved him for an ability to perceive.
And indeed, now an old man— in his sixties— he had experienced a lot, been through a lot and tested many, many works of art made of wood using those hands. But perception, his ability to perceive despite not seeing, was unsurpassed.
And yes, he had trained many, many carpenters. But knowing right away which ones would be good— to be able to sense who would do well— that, that is an art in and of itself. He had an ability to perceive despite... not... seeing. (Slight pause.)
Now sometimes, sometimes one of those apprentices would return, sometimes travel many miles, just to feel the warm embrace of this kind, gentle, old, carpenter— their mentor. They would return to be with him just... one... more... time. (Slight pause.)
And so on this dark night there was a knock on the door of the shop. Isaiah went to the door and opened it. A voice spoke out of the gloom. “I’m glad you’re still awake.”
The old man knew who it was right away. “Joseph! Joseph! How many years has it been?” The two men embraced.
“What brings you to Bethlehem?”
“The Romans! This silly, needless census thing. And once I knew I was required to be here I knew I needed to see you. But come,” continued the younger man, “come. You know that stable over by the inn? My wife is there. She has just had a child.”
Knowing full well Isaiah had lost any possibility of sight lo those many years ago but knowing the real vision the old man had was keen, the younger man then said, “Come. Come see the little one.”
Together, they moved as one toward the inn, Joseph holding the hand of his mentor, feeling peculiar that now he was the one guiding. They entered the shed. His wife smiled and held the baby out to Joseph who took the infant.
“The little one is in my arms and sleeping,” he whispered.
Isaiah followed the voice of Joseph. Hence, knowing where to reach was easy. The rough hewn hands of Isaiah, the master carpenter, touched the infant.
“May I take the child?”
Joseph simply reached out his hands. His mentor could not and did not see this action. Joseph knew Isaiah would sense it.
Isaiah took the child. (Slight pause.) With those old, rough hewn hands Isaiah reached toward the brow of the child with a soft caress. (Slight pause.)
Isaiah was, indeed, experienced. Isaiah had been through a lot. The carpenter knew there are many kinds of darkness. The carpenter knew there are many kinds of light.
He was overwhelmed with what he felt. He did not know why or how but he knew there was a sense of joy in this touch. There was a sense of peace in this touch. There was a sense of hope in this touch. There was a sense of love in this touch.
And, as strange as it may sound, there was a sense of light, a feeling of light in this touch. And this carpenter did, indeed, know there are many kinds of darkness, many kinds of night. But, more importantly, this carpenter knew there are many kinds of light.
And, as this carpenter held the child, the words of the prophet for whom he was named kept repeating themselves over and over in his mind: “The people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who lived in a land of deep shadows— / on them light is shining.” Amen.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “We live in a very secular world. Hence, I never wish people a ‘Merry Christmas.’ That’s a secular term and as an alternative I’ve often, therefore, suggested that as Christians we wish one another a ‘Happy Christmas.’ But I want to make a different suggestion. If somebody says to you either ‘Merry Christmas,’ or ‘Happy Christmas’ say to them ‘Christ is with us.’ That is the real Christian sentiment expressed in the Feast of the Incarnation— Christ is with us.”
BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing from the words of the Prophet Isaiah in the 60th chapter (Isaiah 60:19-20a). “The sun shall no longer be / your light by day, / nor for / brightness shall the moon / give you light by night; / for Yahweh, God, / will be your everlasting light, / and your glory. / Amen.”
[1] At the beginning of the service and as a way to introduce a Christmas Eve service this was said: “Welcome to this, our service of worship, on the eve of the Feast of the Incarnation, the Feast of the Birth of the Messiah. The Hebrew word Messiah is translated into Greek as ‘The Christ’ and means the Anointed One. So, the term ‘Christ’ is not a name, but an office, the office of Messiah. This feast is more commonly called Christmas. Christmas is an Old English word which means Mass or service of worship celebrated on the day upon which the Messiah’s birth is commemorated. So, the word Christmas actually refers to the service of worship, not to the day itself. Now, ancient Rome had a winter solstice celebration, celebrating the return of the sun. And on the Roman calendar the solstice was on the equivalent of the 25th of December. It’s likely Christians adopted this date to celebrate the birth of the Messiah, as we claim Jesus to be both the Messiah and the Light of God born to our lives. Many scholars think Jesus was born in what we would call the year Four Before the Common Era not in the winter but in the Springtime of that year.”
The Light
“The people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who lived in a land of deep shadows— / on them light is shining.” — Isaiah 9:2.
The depth of night had come upon the land. There was no light even though the stars were shining brightly in the sky and the moon was full. Their light was obliterated by a dense fog. Hence, the possibility of natural light illuminating anything was non-existent.
Dense fog was normal for the early Spring. [1] On this night it seemed to course through the hills around Bethlehem with a vengeance— thick, wet, impenetrable. But the fact that there was so little light, that it was so hard to see on this night mattered not to the master carpenter who lived and plied that trade, the trade of shaping, crafting, forming wood in this small, backwater town.
Already a full apprentice by age ten, at that tender age this carpenter somehow instinctively understood the sizing and shaping of tables, chairs. By dint of this early apprenticeship, the youngster learned how one bends wood to one’s own will. By twenty this worker of wood had launched a thriving, prosperous business.
Over the years many helpers were employed in the shop. Over the years those who showed promise, an aptitude, just as he had, also became full apprentices. Eventually, the best of these would work the trade themselves, branch out on their own. (Slight pause.)
The name of this carpenter was Isaiah. He always thought bearing the name of the prophet who spoke so often about light was an odd twist of fate.
That dense fog which coursed through the hills around Bethlehem this night making the world hard to see was meaningless to him. He could not see. This loss of vision happened when he was just thirty. It was no accident.
Isaiah had been standing outside the shop. Five soldiers of the occupying army of Rome chased a beggar up the street. Or was the one being chased a common criminal, or perhaps someone who had simply insulted a Roman official? It did not matter. The soldiers had charged up the street pushing people out of their way, shouting, overturning carts, cursing.
One of these soldiers seemed to think Isaiah got in the way. But the carpenter was simply trying to get out of the way. An unsheathed weapon slashed the air near Isaiah’s head. Trying to duck, he fell to the ground.
When he managed to struggle to his feet, bleeding, he realized... he could no longer see. It was mid-day. The sun was shining brightly. And he could... no... longer... see. And so, the absence of light in the depth of this particular night did not matter to Isaiah one bit. (Slight pause.)
Now— some thirty years after that incident— he still maintained the shop. He still had apprentices. And they loved him. He was kind, gentle, caring. And together, they— Isaiah and all those whom he mentored— produced a well made product.
He relied on those apprentices. After all, he could see only with his hands. Once a piece was made, the rough hewn hands of Isaiah touched every planed surface, every crevice, every angle of everything they made together to make sure it was right.
Only when the hands of the master carpenter said the work was good did it leave the shop. And so, the apprentices loved him not just for his kindness, his gentleness, his caring. They loved him for an ability to perceive.
And indeed, now an old man— in his sixties— he had experienced a lot, been through a lot and tested many, many works of art made of wood using those hands. But perception, his ability to perceive despite not seeing, was unsurpassed.
And yes, he had trained many, many carpenters. But knowing right away which ones would be good— to be able to sense who would do well— that, that is an art in and of itself. He had an ability to perceive despite... not... seeing. (Slight pause.)
Now sometimes, sometimes one of those apprentices would return, sometimes travel many miles, just to feel the warm embrace of this kind, gentle, old, carpenter— their mentor. They would return to be with him just... one... more... time. (Slight pause.)
And so on this dark night there was a knock on the door of the shop. Isaiah went to the door and opened it. A voice spoke out of the gloom. “I’m glad you’re still awake.”
The old man knew who it was right away. “Joseph! Joseph! How many years has it been?” The two men embraced.
“What brings you to Bethlehem?”
“The Romans! This silly, needless census thing. And once I knew I was required to be here I knew I needed to see you. But come,” continued the younger man, “come. You know that stable over by the inn? My wife is there. She has just had a child.”
Knowing full well Isaiah had lost any possibility of sight lo those many years ago but knowing the real vision the old man had was keen, the younger man then said, “Come. Come see the little one.”
Together, they moved as one toward the inn, Joseph holding the hand of his mentor, feeling peculiar that now he was the one guiding. They entered the shed. His wife smiled and held the baby out to Joseph who took the infant.
“The little one is in my arms and sleeping,” he whispered.
Isaiah followed the voice of Joseph. Hence, knowing where to reach was easy. The rough hewn hands of Isaiah, the master carpenter, touched the infant.
“May I take the child?”
Joseph simply reached out his hands. His mentor could not and did not see this action. Joseph knew Isaiah would sense it.
Isaiah took the child. (Slight pause.) With those old, rough hewn hands Isaiah reached toward the brow of the child with a soft caress. (Slight pause.)
Isaiah was, indeed, experienced. Isaiah had been through a lot. The carpenter knew there are many kinds of darkness. The carpenter knew there are many kinds of light.
He was overwhelmed with what he felt. He did not know why or how but he knew there was a sense of joy in this touch. There was a sense of peace in this touch. There was a sense of hope in this touch. There was a sense of love in this touch.
And, as strange as it may sound, there was a sense of light, a feeling of light in this touch. And this carpenter did, indeed, know there are many kinds of darkness, many kinds of night. But, more importantly, this carpenter knew there are many kinds of light.
And, as this carpenter held the child, the words of the prophet for whom he was named kept repeating themselves over and over in his mind: “The people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who lived in a land of deep shadows— / on them light is shining.” Amen.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Response and Benediction. This is a précis of what was said: “We live in a very secular world. Hence, I never wish people a ‘Merry Christmas.’ That’s a secular term and as an alternative I’ve often, therefore, suggested that as Christians we wish one another a ‘Happy Christmas.’ But I want to make a different suggestion. If somebody says to you either ‘Merry Christmas,’ or ‘Happy Christmas’ say to them ‘Christ is with us.’ That is the real Christian sentiment expressed in the Feast of the Incarnation— Christ is with us.”
BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing from the words of the Prophet Isaiah in the 60th chapter (Isaiah 60:19-20a). “The sun shall no longer be / your light by day, / nor for / brightness shall the moon / give you light by night; / for Yahweh, God, / will be your everlasting light, / and your glory. / Amen.”
[1] At the beginning of the service and as a way to introduce a Christmas Eve service this was said: “Welcome to this, our service of worship, on the eve of the Feast of the Incarnation, the Feast of the Birth of the Messiah. The Hebrew word Messiah is translated into Greek as ‘The Christ’ and means the Anointed One. So, the term ‘Christ’ is not a name, but an office, the office of Messiah. This feast is more commonly called Christmas. Christmas is an Old English word which means Mass or service of worship celebrated on the day upon which the Messiah’s birth is commemorated. So, the word Christmas actually refers to the service of worship, not to the day itself. Now, ancient Rome had a winter solstice celebration, celebrating the return of the sun. And on the Roman calendar the solstice was on the equivalent of the 25th of December. It’s likely Christians adopted this date to celebrate the birth of the Messiah, as we claim Jesus to be both the Messiah and the Light of God born to our lives. Many scholars think Jesus was born in what we would call the year Four Before the Common Era not in the winter but in the Springtime of that year.”
Sunday, December 11, 2016
SERMON ~ 12/11/2016 ~ “The Messiah”
12/11/2016 ~ Third Sunday of Advent ~ Isaiah 35:1-10; Psalm 146:5-10 or Luke 1:46b-55; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11 ~ The Sunday in Advent on Which We Commemorate Love — Sunday Afternoon: Chenango Valley Home.
The Messiah
“John was in prison and heard about the works the Messiah was performing. At that point the Baptizer sent word through a disciple to ask the Rabbi, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ In reply Jesus said, ‘Go back and report to John what you hear and what you see:....’” — Matthew 11:2-4.
I walked into a local supermarket last week and was confronted with a cultural sign of the season: a volunteer ringing a bell. This particular volunteer clearly also thought, besides ringing a bell, a part of the duties in this gig was to sing seasonal ditties a capella.
This person did, in fact, have the vocal ability to pull that off, which impressed me. What did not impress me is I do not think Baby It’s Cold Outside by Frank Loesser is a particularly appropriate vocal choice for someone trying to raise money for those in need, no matter how entertaining the rendition might be. But that was the song being intoned. And, to reiterate, this was, indeed, a very impressive feat of singing since the song is written as a duet but was being offered as a solo. {Note: there as much laughter once the name of the song was mentioned and that laughter continued.}
To be clear, why do I think that song is inappropriate? Loesser wrote Baby It’s Cold Outside to be sung at private parties because he, the writer of this song, thought it to be more than a tad risqué. If, by the way, you listen carefully to the lyric, it is more than a tad risqué.
In fact, the song was used in public only after Loesser sold the rights to MGM, the studio it inserted it into a film and it became, as you probably know, a big hit in short order. But all this raises what are for me, a song writer and a writer of hymns, questions— serious questions.
What is so called seasonal music, really? What is the season about, really? What should we be addressing, what are we addressing and what do we address in the seasons known as Advent and Christmas, really? (Slight pause.)
Five years ago Tom Rasely and I wrote a new Christmas Carol. The title of the work is One Angel Sings. The lyric, in part, reads, “One angel sings, both silent and plain.” A later verse says, “One angel sings, both silent yet clear.”
Internally, that lyric poses another question: what does it mean when someone sings, but yet, is silent? Is that not a paradox?
Since I wrote that lyric I hope it will not surprise you I have an explanation. The truth is you can look at the famous passage from Luke 2, the passage with shepherds and angels and a child in a manger, and never once find any angel who sings. The text does say one angel speaks.
The text does say a multitude of angels praise God. But the text specifically says in offering praise to God the angels speak that praise rather than sing that praise.
To be fair, is it possible the angels sing? Why yes it is. But the text doesn’t say that.
Hence, in terms of what the text actually says, singing angels are a figment of the imagination of artists throughout the centuries. I say singing angels are a figment of the imagination of artists throughout many centuries because it’s quite likely that’s the place from where our image of angels singing emerges. And because Scripture does not mention any angel singing, I wrote this lyric (quote:): “One angel sings, both silent and plain.” (Slight pause.)
All that re-opens what is for me those same key questions: what is the season about? What should we be addressing, what are we addressing and what do we address in the season known as Advent and Christmas? Indeed, is the season about singing angels or is the season about something else? (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Matthew: “John was in prison and heard about the works the Messiah was performing. At that point the Baptizer sent word through a disciple to ask the Rabbi, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ In reply Jesus said, ‘Go back and report to John what you hear and what you see:....’” (Slight pause.)
At Bible Study last Wednesday— a reminder: everyone is invited to join us for Bible study Wednesdays at 6:00 p.m.— at Bible Study last Wednesday I think I, myself, and those who were there came across an interesting precept for reading Scripture. Ignore the details. The details of the story are interesting and can illustrate many points.
But Scripture can be said to be about one thing and one thing only. Scripture is about theology. Further, the theology we find in Scripture is fairly straightforward. And when we pay attention to the theology in the text rather than the details found in the text, it can be quite illuminating. Why? How? The theology we find in Scripture can be described in several short sentences.
Here they are: God loves us. God loves us humanity. God wants to be in covenant with humanity. These are simple and central themes which can be found throughout Scripture. But one key to finding these themes— is ignore the details.
When I say “ignore the details” please do not mis-understand me. The details enrich and enhance what we read. But if we concentrate only on the details— singing angels, for instance— and thereby ignore the theological basis of Scripture— that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity, we’ve missed the point, missed the central message of the Bible.
I need to add we Christians believe there is one additional central theme and it is found in the reading from Matthew we heard today. Jesus is the Messiah. Jesus is the Christ. Because Jesus holds the office known as the Christ, the very presence of Jesus, the reality of Jesus, reenforces the idea that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity.
Please note: if you ignore the details of this reading— from the imprisonment of John to the praise of John offered by Jesus— the statement that Jesus is the Christ sent because God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity, contains the totality of what this reading means. (Slight pause.)
Well, as I walked out of the supermarket that day— the supermarket I was speaking about earlier— I bumped into an acquaintance. We chatted for a minute or two.
Unfortunately, that extra time in the lobby enabled me to hear yet two more so called seasonal selections offered by that person ringing a bell. One was Frosty the Snowman. The second was Here Comes Santa Claus. (Slight pause.)
And yes, that leads me back to the questions: what is so called seasonal music, really? What is the season about, really?
I think Scripture is clear on that count. In our lives— daily— we need to be addressing, as does this lectionary reading, that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity. In our lives— daily— need to be addressing, as does this lectionary reading, that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, who reenforces the idea that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity. (Slight pause.)
I don’t know about you, but for me Frosty the Snowman and Here Comes Santa Claus may be fun but they do not speak to me about Advent or Christmas. They speak to me about our culture, nothing more, nothing less. And frankly I do not think our culture is up to grappling with the covenant love found in Scripture.
So last, let me repeat something I said in the most recent newsletter. The things we celebrate in Advent— hope, peace, love, and joy— are about the future, our future. We, Christians, always need to prepare for what will be. We should not dwell in the past. We need to look toward the future.
Indeed, Christmas is not about the past. Christmas— this celebration of the birth of the Messiah— is about the future.
We Christians are invited to know that with what we celebrate in Advent and with what we celebrate at Christmastide— hope, peace, love, joy and the birth of the Messiah— these are not simply portents of what will be. These are signposts meant to direct us toward how we are to live our life with God now, and how we are to live our life with God in the days to come. And how we are called to live our lives with each other?
And how are we called to live our lives with each other? With care, with respect, with understanding, with love. Amen.
12/11/2016
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 an précis of what was said: “I shall quote a colleague who was brief, blunt and to the point in making this statement about the season. ‘Santa Claus does not feed my soul. The God of covenant love does.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in hope and in joy and in peace, for we find love in the One who has made covenant with us. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
The Messiah
“John was in prison and heard about the works the Messiah was performing. At that point the Baptizer sent word through a disciple to ask the Rabbi, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ In reply Jesus said, ‘Go back and report to John what you hear and what you see:....’” — Matthew 11:2-4.
I walked into a local supermarket last week and was confronted with a cultural sign of the season: a volunteer ringing a bell. This particular volunteer clearly also thought, besides ringing a bell, a part of the duties in this gig was to sing seasonal ditties a capella.
This person did, in fact, have the vocal ability to pull that off, which impressed me. What did not impress me is I do not think Baby It’s Cold Outside by Frank Loesser is a particularly appropriate vocal choice for someone trying to raise money for those in need, no matter how entertaining the rendition might be. But that was the song being intoned. And, to reiterate, this was, indeed, a very impressive feat of singing since the song is written as a duet but was being offered as a solo. {Note: there as much laughter once the name of the song was mentioned and that laughter continued.}
To be clear, why do I think that song is inappropriate? Loesser wrote Baby It’s Cold Outside to be sung at private parties because he, the writer of this song, thought it to be more than a tad risqué. If, by the way, you listen carefully to the lyric, it is more than a tad risqué.
In fact, the song was used in public only after Loesser sold the rights to MGM, the studio it inserted it into a film and it became, as you probably know, a big hit in short order. But all this raises what are for me, a song writer and a writer of hymns, questions— serious questions.
What is so called seasonal music, really? What is the season about, really? What should we be addressing, what are we addressing and what do we address in the seasons known as Advent and Christmas, really? (Slight pause.)
Five years ago Tom Rasely and I wrote a new Christmas Carol. The title of the work is One Angel Sings. The lyric, in part, reads, “One angel sings, both silent and plain.” A later verse says, “One angel sings, both silent yet clear.”
Internally, that lyric poses another question: what does it mean when someone sings, but yet, is silent? Is that not a paradox?
Since I wrote that lyric I hope it will not surprise you I have an explanation. The truth is you can look at the famous passage from Luke 2, the passage with shepherds and angels and a child in a manger, and never once find any angel who sings. The text does say one angel speaks.
The text does say a multitude of angels praise God. But the text specifically says in offering praise to God the angels speak that praise rather than sing that praise.
To be fair, is it possible the angels sing? Why yes it is. But the text doesn’t say that.
Hence, in terms of what the text actually says, singing angels are a figment of the imagination of artists throughout the centuries. I say singing angels are a figment of the imagination of artists throughout many centuries because it’s quite likely that’s the place from where our image of angels singing emerges. And because Scripture does not mention any angel singing, I wrote this lyric (quote:): “One angel sings, both silent and plain.” (Slight pause.)
All that re-opens what is for me those same key questions: what is the season about? What should we be addressing, what are we addressing and what do we address in the season known as Advent and Christmas? Indeed, is the season about singing angels or is the season about something else? (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Matthew: “John was in prison and heard about the works the Messiah was performing. At that point the Baptizer sent word through a disciple to ask the Rabbi, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ In reply Jesus said, ‘Go back and report to John what you hear and what you see:....’” (Slight pause.)
At Bible Study last Wednesday— a reminder: everyone is invited to join us for Bible study Wednesdays at 6:00 p.m.— at Bible Study last Wednesday I think I, myself, and those who were there came across an interesting precept for reading Scripture. Ignore the details. The details of the story are interesting and can illustrate many points.
But Scripture can be said to be about one thing and one thing only. Scripture is about theology. Further, the theology we find in Scripture is fairly straightforward. And when we pay attention to the theology in the text rather than the details found in the text, it can be quite illuminating. Why? How? The theology we find in Scripture can be described in several short sentences.
Here they are: God loves us. God loves us humanity. God wants to be in covenant with humanity. These are simple and central themes which can be found throughout Scripture. But one key to finding these themes— is ignore the details.
When I say “ignore the details” please do not mis-understand me. The details enrich and enhance what we read. But if we concentrate only on the details— singing angels, for instance— and thereby ignore the theological basis of Scripture— that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity, we’ve missed the point, missed the central message of the Bible.
I need to add we Christians believe there is one additional central theme and it is found in the reading from Matthew we heard today. Jesus is the Messiah. Jesus is the Christ. Because Jesus holds the office known as the Christ, the very presence of Jesus, the reality of Jesus, reenforces the idea that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity.
Please note: if you ignore the details of this reading— from the imprisonment of John to the praise of John offered by Jesus— the statement that Jesus is the Christ sent because God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity, contains the totality of what this reading means. (Slight pause.)
Well, as I walked out of the supermarket that day— the supermarket I was speaking about earlier— I bumped into an acquaintance. We chatted for a minute or two.
Unfortunately, that extra time in the lobby enabled me to hear yet two more so called seasonal selections offered by that person ringing a bell. One was Frosty the Snowman. The second was Here Comes Santa Claus. (Slight pause.)
And yes, that leads me back to the questions: what is so called seasonal music, really? What is the season about, really?
I think Scripture is clear on that count. In our lives— daily— we need to be addressing, as does this lectionary reading, that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity. In our lives— daily— need to be addressing, as does this lectionary reading, that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, who reenforces the idea that God loves and wants to be in covenant with humanity. (Slight pause.)
I don’t know about you, but for me Frosty the Snowman and Here Comes Santa Claus may be fun but they do not speak to me about Advent or Christmas. They speak to me about our culture, nothing more, nothing less. And frankly I do not think our culture is up to grappling with the covenant love found in Scripture.
So last, let me repeat something I said in the most recent newsletter. The things we celebrate in Advent— hope, peace, love, and joy— are about the future, our future. We, Christians, always need to prepare for what will be. We should not dwell in the past. We need to look toward the future.
Indeed, Christmas is not about the past. Christmas— this celebration of the birth of the Messiah— is about the future.
We Christians are invited to know that with what we celebrate in Advent and with what we celebrate at Christmastide— hope, peace, love, joy and the birth of the Messiah— these are not simply portents of what will be. These are signposts meant to direct us toward how we are to live our life with God now, and how we are to live our life with God in the days to come. And how we are called to live our lives with each other?
And how are we called to live our lives with each other? With care, with respect, with understanding, with love. Amen.
12/11/2016
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 an précis of what was said: “I shall quote a colleague who was brief, blunt and to the point in making this statement about the season. ‘Santa Claus does not feed my soul. The God of covenant love does.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in hope and in joy and in peace, for we find love in the One who has made covenant with us. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
Sunday, December 4, 2016
SERMON ~ 12/04/2016 ~ “Hearts and Minds”
12/04/2016 ~ Second Sunday of Advent ~ Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12 ~ The Sunday in Advent on Which We Commemorate Peace ~ Communion Sunday.
Hearts and Minds
“Change your hearts and minds, for the dominion of heaven has come near. The dominion of heaven is about to break in on you.” — Matthew 3:2.
At the time we had the announcements this morning you heard me say this afternoon I will be representing you, this church, at an Ecclesiastical Council of the Susquehanna Association in Homer. We shall listen to a presentation by the candidate, Rachel Ditch, who will offer portions of her ordination paper.
Now, when I say I will be representing this church you need to understand an Ecclesiastical Council is not a clergy function. It is a function of the laity. Lay members of our congregation are not just invited to join me. You are vital.
Indeed, in our tradition ordination is in no way about any kind of hierarchy. In the Congregational tradition there is no organizational chart or power structure. We are one.
So, an Ecclesiastical Council of our Association says there needs to be only 6 authorized clergy present. But there needs to be at least 20 members of the laity on hand. If my math is right, by way of shear numbers that means at an Ecclesiastical Council members of the laity are three times more vital than members of the clergy.
Now, each church in the Association has been sent a copy of Rachel’s paper so we could all read it in advance. Therefore, after Rachel makes her presentation, each church will get to ask at least two questions of Rachel based on her paper and presentation.
To be clear, I am a member of the Committee on Authorized Ministry of the Susquehanna Association. So we, the committee, have walked through this process with Rachel. We were with her as she graduated from SUNY Cortland and she asked to be a Member in Discernment (which is what we call someone seeking ordination these days).
We were with her as she went off to the wilds of Boston, Massachusetts where she attended and graduated from the Boston University School of Theology. We offered her advice as she was in the process of writing her ordination paper.
I like Rachel and I think she will make an outstanding, wonderful pastor. By the way, that opinion will not stop me from asking her questions this afternoon.
Now, on the title page of Rachel’s ordination paper there is an extra sub-title line. It says the paper is (quote:) “Appropriately Subtitled— All I Think I Know About God in (about) Twenty Pages.” Then the paper opens with a quote from the late theologian, mystic and social activist Thomas Merton from the work Thoughts on Solitude.
(Quote:) “My God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself and the fact that I think that I am following Your will does not mean I am actually doing so.”
“But I believe the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all I am doing. I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire.”
“And I know if I do this You will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust You always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.” (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Matthew: “Change your hearts and minds, for the dominion of heaven has come near. The dominion of heaven is about to break in on you.” (Slight pause.)
I think we, in the Twenty-first Century— world-wide, not just Americans— are afflicted with a very specific disease. We are convinced we know everything there is to know and we are in control of everything and we are right about everything.
I’ve got bad news and good news on that count. Here’s the bad news: we are wrong. We do not know everything. We are not in control of everything. We are not right about everything.
The good news? The idea that we do know everything, we are in control of everything and are right about everything is not a simply a Twenty-first Century disease. The people to whom John preached had the same disease.
I think one of the mistakes we make when we read this text is we see it with blinders. Paradoxically, these are the same blinders worn by our First Century cousins who heard what John said.
The specific blinders to which I refer are the ones just mentioned— thinking we know, thinking we are in control, thinking we are right. Let me unpack that a bit. When we hear the words which say (quote:) “Many Pharisees and Sadducees came for baptism and John said to them, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?’” we are making several assumptions.
The assumptions are false. But we make them because we think we know and we are in control and we are right.
We hear the terms Pharisees and Sadducees and think “those are the bad people.” Except they would not have been considered bad in the world John inhabited. They would have been considered upstanding citizens, the best of the best.
Then we hear John’s question to them (quote:) “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” And that question simply puzzles us as it would have puzzled them. Do notice there is no response recorded.
John doubts their sincerity. I think John doubts their sincerity because the Baptizer realizes they have come to the wilderness not to be Baptized. What they want is to buy fire insurance. They think participation will give them protection. If they simply do something— a ritual— Baptism— then a deep, meaningful relationship with God will be unnecessary, superfluous.
In short, when they see John Baptizing they think they can know, think they can be in control, think they are right. John, on the other hand, is clear: ritual does not produce a relationship with God nor does it produce what a relationship with God is about.
What John insists is a relationship with God only happens when we are willing to change our hearts and our minds. All of which is to say thinking we know, thinking we are in control, thinking we are right is not solid ground for a relationship with God.
Why? Let me repeat that quote from Thomas Merton and used by Rachel in full.
“My God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself and the fact that I think I am following Your will does not mean I am actually doing so.”
“But I believe the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all I am doing. I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire.”
“And I know if I do this You will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust You always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.” (Slight pause.)
God does not, in any way, wish to control us. God is not manipulative... and yet God is in control. That God is in control is, I think, not something we like to hear, since we like to know, we like to be in control, we like to be right.
But once we grasp that simple understanding that God reigns, as did Thomas Merton did, that understanding that we are not in charge of the world, then our hearts and our minds can and will be open to change. Why? How? Only then— when we understand we are not in charge— will we have the freedom and the peace to turn our hearts and our minds toward God. Amen.
12/04/2015
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Let me call your attention to the Thought for Meditation from Barbara Brown Taylor, Episcopal Priest and theologian found in the bulletin today. (Quote:) ‘While Isaiah might have agreed that salvation comes from heaven, I doubt the prophet would have agreed to leave it there. Salvation is not about us going up but about heaven coming down. Salvation that does not include just rulers, an equitable economy, and peace among the nations, would have made Isaiah scratch his head. Heaven may be God’s test kitchen, but the pudding is intended for earth.’ Making the pudding of God here on earth— now that will take a change of hearts and minds.”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Go in peace for God is with us. Go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that God is steadfast. And may the peace of God which surpasses understanding be with us this day and forevermore. Amen.
Hearts and Minds
“Change your hearts and minds, for the dominion of heaven has come near. The dominion of heaven is about to break in on you.” — Matthew 3:2.
At the time we had the announcements this morning you heard me say this afternoon I will be representing you, this church, at an Ecclesiastical Council of the Susquehanna Association in Homer. We shall listen to a presentation by the candidate, Rachel Ditch, who will offer portions of her ordination paper.
Now, when I say I will be representing this church you need to understand an Ecclesiastical Council is not a clergy function. It is a function of the laity. Lay members of our congregation are not just invited to join me. You are vital.
Indeed, in our tradition ordination is in no way about any kind of hierarchy. In the Congregational tradition there is no organizational chart or power structure. We are one.
So, an Ecclesiastical Council of our Association says there needs to be only 6 authorized clergy present. But there needs to be at least 20 members of the laity on hand. If my math is right, by way of shear numbers that means at an Ecclesiastical Council members of the laity are three times more vital than members of the clergy.
Now, each church in the Association has been sent a copy of Rachel’s paper so we could all read it in advance. Therefore, after Rachel makes her presentation, each church will get to ask at least two questions of Rachel based on her paper and presentation.
To be clear, I am a member of the Committee on Authorized Ministry of the Susquehanna Association. So we, the committee, have walked through this process with Rachel. We were with her as she graduated from SUNY Cortland and she asked to be a Member in Discernment (which is what we call someone seeking ordination these days).
We were with her as she went off to the wilds of Boston, Massachusetts where she attended and graduated from the Boston University School of Theology. We offered her advice as she was in the process of writing her ordination paper.
I like Rachel and I think she will make an outstanding, wonderful pastor. By the way, that opinion will not stop me from asking her questions this afternoon.
Now, on the title page of Rachel’s ordination paper there is an extra sub-title line. It says the paper is (quote:) “Appropriately Subtitled— All I Think I Know About God in (about) Twenty Pages.” Then the paper opens with a quote from the late theologian, mystic and social activist Thomas Merton from the work Thoughts on Solitude.
(Quote:) “My God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself and the fact that I think that I am following Your will does not mean I am actually doing so.”
“But I believe the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all I am doing. I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire.”
“And I know if I do this You will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust You always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.” (Slight pause.)
We find these words in the work known as Matthew: “Change your hearts and minds, for the dominion of heaven has come near. The dominion of heaven is about to break in on you.” (Slight pause.)
I think we, in the Twenty-first Century— world-wide, not just Americans— are afflicted with a very specific disease. We are convinced we know everything there is to know and we are in control of everything and we are right about everything.
I’ve got bad news and good news on that count. Here’s the bad news: we are wrong. We do not know everything. We are not in control of everything. We are not right about everything.
The good news? The idea that we do know everything, we are in control of everything and are right about everything is not a simply a Twenty-first Century disease. The people to whom John preached had the same disease.
I think one of the mistakes we make when we read this text is we see it with blinders. Paradoxically, these are the same blinders worn by our First Century cousins who heard what John said.
The specific blinders to which I refer are the ones just mentioned— thinking we know, thinking we are in control, thinking we are right. Let me unpack that a bit. When we hear the words which say (quote:) “Many Pharisees and Sadducees came for baptism and John said to them, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?’” we are making several assumptions.
The assumptions are false. But we make them because we think we know and we are in control and we are right.
We hear the terms Pharisees and Sadducees and think “those are the bad people.” Except they would not have been considered bad in the world John inhabited. They would have been considered upstanding citizens, the best of the best.
Then we hear John’s question to them (quote:) “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” And that question simply puzzles us as it would have puzzled them. Do notice there is no response recorded.
John doubts their sincerity. I think John doubts their sincerity because the Baptizer realizes they have come to the wilderness not to be Baptized. What they want is to buy fire insurance. They think participation will give them protection. If they simply do something— a ritual— Baptism— then a deep, meaningful relationship with God will be unnecessary, superfluous.
In short, when they see John Baptizing they think they can know, think they can be in control, think they are right. John, on the other hand, is clear: ritual does not produce a relationship with God nor does it produce what a relationship with God is about.
What John insists is a relationship with God only happens when we are willing to change our hearts and our minds. All of which is to say thinking we know, thinking we are in control, thinking we are right is not solid ground for a relationship with God.
Why? Let me repeat that quote from Thomas Merton and used by Rachel in full.
“My God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself and the fact that I think I am following Your will does not mean I am actually doing so.”
“But I believe the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all I am doing. I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire.”
“And I know if I do this You will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust You always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.” (Slight pause.)
God does not, in any way, wish to control us. God is not manipulative... and yet God is in control. That God is in control is, I think, not something we like to hear, since we like to know, we like to be in control, we like to be right.
But once we grasp that simple understanding that God reigns, as did Thomas Merton did, that understanding that we are not in charge of the world, then our hearts and our minds can and will be open to change. Why? How? Only then— when we understand we are not in charge— will we have the freedom and the peace to turn our hearts and our minds toward God. Amen.
12/04/2015
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Let me call your attention to the Thought for Meditation from Barbara Brown Taylor, Episcopal Priest and theologian found in the bulletin today. (Quote:) ‘While Isaiah might have agreed that salvation comes from heaven, I doubt the prophet would have agreed to leave it there. Salvation is not about us going up but about heaven coming down. Salvation that does not include just rulers, an equitable economy, and peace among the nations, would have made Isaiah scratch his head. Heaven may be God’s test kitchen, but the pudding is intended for earth.’ Making the pudding of God here on earth— now that will take a change of hearts and minds.”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Go in peace for God is with us. Go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that God is steadfast. And may the peace of God which surpasses understanding be with us this day and forevermore. Amen.
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