Sermon ~ Poor in Spirit? ~ 08/21/2011 ~ A Sermon on the Occasion of “Water from the Well Part II”

08/21/2011 ~ Proper 16 ~ 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ 10th Sunday after Pentecost ~ Exodus 1:8-2:10; Psalm 124; Isaiah 51:1-6; Psalm 138; Romans 12:1-8; Matthew 16:13-20 ~ Used These Passages from Scripture: Call to Worship Based on Psalm 100; Ecclesiastes 3, selected verses, adapted (in the Ceremony of Shalom; Matthew 5:1-10, 13-16; Responsive Reading Based on Psalm 55 from the translation used in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer; Responsive Reading Based on Psalm 149 [ILV]; A Reading from the Talmud ~ The Sunday Featuring Water from the Well II and the Music of Joseph Martin ~ Ceremony of Shalom for Eli Craig ~ Water from the Well II; a Union Service with the United Church of Christ, First Congregational of Norwich and the Sherburne United Church of Christ.

Poor in Spirit?

“Blessed are those who are poor in spirit: the Dominion of heaven is theirs.” — Matthew 5:3.


Mikhail Baryshnikov is a Soviet-born Russian-American dancer, choreographer, actor and, certainly, one of the great ballet artists of the 20th century. Baryshnikov was involved in the 1981 American Film Institute’s Life Achievement Award, a televised tribute to Fred Astaire.

The very first to speak on the broadcast, he said this (quote): “I have been invited to say something concerning how we dancers feel about Fred Astaire. It’s no secret: we hate him. (Slight pause.) He gives us complexes because he’s too perfect.” [1] (Slight pause.)

That’s probably how a lot of us feel about the Beatitudes, isn’t it? We hate them. How can you live up to that kind of perfection? (Slight pause.)

Well, I’ve got good news. We don’t have to be perfect. It’s not our job. And perfection is not what the Beatitudes are about.

As indicated earlier, after the Beatitudes comes a series of “you are” statements. These amplify and illuminate the Beatitudes. So, this is not simply a list of unattainable goals since the “you are” statements insist we are already blessed by God. (Slight pause.)

Baryshnikov and Astaire are graceful people. And being poor in spirit has to do with grace, not poverty. Indeed, one translation renders “Blessed are the poor in spirit” as “Blessed are the debonaire.”

And that’s the point. A person who is debonaire is one who moves through life with a sense of God. A person who moves through life with a sense of God is grace-filled. A grace-filled person is confident in the reality of God, confident the presence of God.

Those who are grace-filled have no need to claim or exhibit a robust ego because their identity rests in God, their security rests in God. So, the poverty of spirit addressed here stems from the humility one discovers through striving to grow into deeply knowing God. (Slight pause.)

There is also an ethical dimension to the beatitudes. Knowledge of God, you see, leads to action. And it is not individual action but communal action because, in the context of the Gospel, it is not the individual being pronounced as blessed. The community hears itself as blessed, sees itself as blessed.

And, since these pronouncements are made by Jesus, the community cannot remain passive. The Beatitudes, thereby, become and are a call to action. [2] (Slight pause.)

Now, we have gathered here today and we have celebrated music. Why? What’s the connection. What does song have to do with action? (Slight pause.) Everything.

Music, singing, is filled with its own sense of God given grace since it allows us to, physically, make a proclamation about grace and, thereby, a proclamation of the presence grace. As such, in the very act of singing, our assertion is that we rely on the grace of God and on the mercy of God.

Why? Music, when offered to God, is a recognition of the reality of God and a recognition of the presence of God. So, indeed blessed are the debonaire. Blessed are those who know grace by walking in the paths of God and doing the work of God and the will of God. Blessed are those who sing praise to God. Amen.

United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
08/21/2011

A READING FROM THE TALMUD AND A BENEDICTION

The Torah is the first five books of the Bible. This is a reading from the Jewish commentary on the Torah, known as the Talmud.

After all creation was formed, God called the angels together and asked them what they thought of it. One of them said, “Something is lacking: the sound of praise to the Creator.” So God created music. And music was heard in the whisper of the wind, in the chirp of the birds, in the tympani of the thunder. But that was not enough, so God gave humanity the gift of song. And down through the ages this gift has blessed, comforted and inspired many souls. This gift is a part of the covenant; we have the blessings and wonder which the gift from God bestows on and in us; and God is pleased when a joyful noise is heard.

Hear now this blessing: let us walk in the Spirit, remembering that we are one in Christ, for, in the Dominion of God, the grace of true freedom is the inheritance of those who walk in the love of God.

And may we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much. May we be so in awe of God, that we are in awe of no one else and nothing else. Amen.

[1] http://www.reelclassics.com/Actors/Astaire/astaire-article3.htm

[2] The Interpreter’s Bible: The Electronic Edition. This is found in the section on this passage.

Sermon ~ 08/07/2011 ~ The Sounds of Silence

08/07/2011 ~ Proper 14 ~ 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Eighth Sunday after Pentecost ~ Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28; Psalm 105: 1-6, 16-22, 45b; 1 Kings 19:9-18 {Note: used 9-15}; Psalm 85:8-13; Romans 10:5-15; Matthew 14:22-33 ~ Communion Sunday.

The Sounds of Silence

“Then there was a great and powerful wind, so strong that it tore the mountain apart and shattered the rocks in pieces by the power of Yahweh— but Yahweh was not in the whirlwind. And after the wind there was an earthquake. But Yahweh was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there came a fire but Yahweh was not in the fire. And after the fire there was a sound of sheer silence.” — 1 Kings 19:11b-12.


Sir Richard Attenborough is a good actor, probably best known for the part of the crazy Billionaire in the film Jurassic Park. But Attenborough is an even better film director than he is an actor.

Attenborough directed Gandhi, the film about one of the great civil rights leaders of the 20th Century, Mohandas Gandhi. The Mahatma’s methods— Mahatma means Great Spirit— the Mahatma’s methods of non-violent protest were adopted around the world and led to advances for the rights of many people in many nations.

The makers of that film biography are clear when it came to the limitations of their project. They say this in the introduction to the published screenplay (quote): “No one’s life can be encompassed in one telling.”

“There is no way to give each year its allotted weight, to include each event, each person who helped to shape a lifetime. What can be done is to be faithful in spirit to the record and to try to find one’s way to the heart of the person...”

Hence, in an effort to frame the film in such a way as to help audiences understand Gandhi’s life, to places these in context, the film both opens and closes with an image of violence: the assassination of Gandhi. The film, indeed, contains a lot of violence.

I once heard Attenborough asked in an interview why a film which is essentially about non-violence might contain so much violence. The director said for him one of the paradoxes of making the film was you can’t portray non-violence without addressing violence, without showing violent acts. The contrast is essential. (Slight pause.)

To a certain extent, I find myself in the same place as Attenborough. I want to talk about silence. So I need to talk about sound, even noise.

Of this I am convinced: as humans we are, both by nature and by the nurturing Spirit of God, called to communicate. Many of us do that in more than one way. But certainly one way many people communicate is through sound.

Since I am a song writer, people sometimes ask me what my favorite type of music is. The question always puzzles me. You see, as a song writer, I say music is simply organized sound.

So for me, the deeper question needs to be ‘how is the sound we’re talking about organized? Is it organized in a way which can communicate something to me or can communicate something to someone else?’

Asking the question that way leaves me open to being able to appreciate— perhaps not fully understand or even like but to appreciate— many types and styles of music. Asking the question that way opens the possibility that communication is central, rather than my own vision which might be relatively narrow.

Indeed, Julian Treasure a musician, an author and consultant who advises businesses around the world, especially retailers and hotels, on how to use sound— Musac is what my guess he advises about— Treasure says each of us comes to the table with filters. And these filters block communication.

Among the filters he lists are culture, language, values, beliefs, attitudes, expectations and intentions. And both those who are trying to communicate and those with whom are trying to communicate come to the table with a set of filters. Further, it’s likely each person coming to the table brings a very different set of judgments about those filters.

That, I think, brings me to the key point about sound: sound is not about noise. Sound is about listening and listening carefully, trying to cancel out inappropriate filters.

Those who study these things tell us we actually listen 60% of the time. On the other hand, we retain only 25% of what we hear. And we retain that 25% only when we concentrate really, really hard on just listening. (Slight pause.)

And these words are from the work known as First Kings: “...after the fire there was a sound of sheer... silence.” (Slight pause.)

Question: is God still speaking? (Slight pause.) That’s what our denomination claims— God is still speaking. (Slight pause.) How do we know, especially if we retain only 25% of what we hear even when we concentrate?

Indeed, in the words of Paul Simon does it not often seem that in our era we have (quote): “People talking without speaking” and we have (quote): “People hearing without listening”? [1] (Slight pause.)

And again, let’s ask questions: if God is still speaking, through whom does God speak? And are we listening? (Slight pause.)

A couple of weeks ago my friend Tom Rasely, who you just heard a little earlier, led the service and offered these words of wisdom from Mark Twain (quote): “The right word may be effective, but no word is ever as effective as a well-timed... pause.”

Tom then went on to say that, as a musician, he is very aware of pauses. In music you can have a series of notes, sounds, interrupted by what are referred to as ‘rests.’ Rests are silences that give a musician, as well as the listener, time to pause and
reflect on what has happened, time to consider, time to prepare for what will happen next.

Indeed, Tom tells students sometimes what you don’t play can make what you do play sound even better. But still, silence can be unsettling. When we hear nothing, especially for long periods of time, it can be unnerving. (Long pause— about 35 seconds.) See?

And then we have Peter— Peter in a boat on the lake. Peter who really, really listened when Christ said “Come.” What was Peter’s problem?

Why did Peter start to sink? Did Peter stop listening? Or was Peter simply distracted by noise of the wind? (Quote): “Peter noticed how strong the wind was, became frightened and, beginning to sink,...” (Slight pause.)

I want to suggest that Peter had a deeper problem than noise. You see, Peter was doing just fine until noise other than the voice of Jesus got in the way.

And when other noise got in the way, it was not that Peter stopped hearing. The voice of Jesus was still there.

Peter stopped trusting. Was Peter distracted? Probably. But I think trust is what helps us concentrate really, really hard on what’s really, really important.

Therefore, I do want to suggest God does speak in the silence. And God does speak with many voices. God speaks in the voices of the loving spirits those around us. God speaks in the voices of members of the community of faith.

God does speak, especially when we trust God. And that leaves us with an obvious question: where and when does God not speak? (Slight pause.)

God does not speak through the noise known as injustice. Is something fair and beneficial to all concerned? [2] If it is not fair and beneficial to all, the sound we hear is the sound of injustice. When we see and when we hear the sound of injustice, we know God is not speaking. (Slight pause.)

God does not speak through the noise known as violence. God does not speak in the violence known as oppression— economic oppression, physical oppression, cultural oppression, the kind of violence which sets people apart as being different or strange or simply unacceptable. When we hear and when we see the sound of violence, we know God is not speaking.

So, it seems to me our job, our goal is to listen for God because God does speak. And in order to hear God speak, we need to concentrate really, really hard.

In many ways that is what Gandhi did. He filtered out the noise of injustice and the noise of violence.

And I believe the best way to filter out the noise of injustice and violence is to trust God. (Slight pause.) Is God still speaking?

Yes. I believe God is still speaking. So, that leaves a final question: do we trust God to the point where we listen hard enough to filter out the noise of violence and the noise of injustice and really hear both that God is still speaking. And really hear what God is saying. Indeed, can we hear what God says even in the silence? Amen.

08/07/2011
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: “The last words of Paul Simon’s The Sounds of Silence are these (quote): ‘The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls— And tenement halls— And whispered in the sounds of silence.’ I know Paul is Jewish, but I don’t know if he is a Hebrew scholar also. I do know that, whereas in English we think of words as being solid and having a set meaning, in Hebrew, words change meanings as you hear them and have multiple meanings. What we translate as ‘sheer silence’ can also be translated as ‘whisper,’— whispered silence— and there’s Paul Simon: whispered in the sounds of silence. Indeed, Elijah hears that whispered silence and so stands at the mouth of the cave and listens for God. Listening for God is, I think, the key.”

BENEDICTION: We are called to care in a world which can be uncaring, commissioned as lovers among some who may offer back indifference. Know this: God is with us in all our days. So, let us go forth knowing that the grace of God is deeper than our imagination, the strength of Christ is stronger than our need and the communion of the Holy Spirit is richer than all our togetherness. May God guide and sustain us today and in all our tomorrows. Amen.

[1] The “Special Music” at this service was The Sounds of Silence sung by Tom Rasely.

[2] Two tests combined into one of the Four Way Test practiced by Rotarians.

Sermon ~ 07/31/2011 ~ Wrestling with God

07/31/2011 ~ Proper 13 ~ Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Seventh Sunday after Pentecost ~ Genesis 32:22-31; Psalm 17:1-7, 15; Isaiah 55:1-5; Psalm 145:8-9, 14-21; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:13-21 ~ 5th Sunday Hymn Sing.

Wrestling with God

“...the other answered, ‘You shall no longer be called Jacob’ (which means heel grabber) ‘but you shall be called Israel, the one who wrestled with God, for you have striven with God and with mortals and you have prevailed.’” — Genesis 32:28.

This is a poem.

I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.
Perhaps I got that notion
from my mother
for whom life did seem easy,
not from my father,
who was strong,
gentle and tried to teach me
about the wisdom of the sky
from whence life
often sears the soul and tries.

I know now that life is not easy
and as I lay prostrate
on the ground.
I can hear the other one— the sound
of heavy breathing,
and my own,
as I moan in pain and
we grapple neath the moonlit sky.
I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.

Things change but the sky does not
and it is hard to see
where I needed to go
for no one gave me anything—
a map, a plan, a route to take.
So I had to make
and rake and break
and do whatever I had to do
to see me through.

And You! You!
You are here beside me
and I know not why.
Are You the sky?

What if I surrender, give up, stop?
Will that matter?
Will You offer a blessing?
Will that matter?
And what does it matter
that the sky goes on and on—
the stars glisten above our heads until dawn,
and then the stars are... gone?

(Pause.) The reading from Genesis is the famous story of Jacob wrestling. ‘Wrestling with Whom?’ is the key question. Does Jacob wrestle with angels? Does Jacob wrestle with a person? Does Jacob wrestle with self inflicted demons? Does Jacob wrestle with the human race— all humanity? Does Jacob wrestle with God? (Slight pause.)

It says in the reading (quote): “...you shall be called Israel, the one who wrestled with God, for you have striven with God and with mortals and you have prevailed.” To be clear: the very word Israel means one who has wrestled with God. And, to be clear, the deeper meaning of the word ‘wrestled’ is one who deals with and who struggles with the reality which is God and the reality who is God.

These words also indicated an even more expansive meaning than someone who has only wrestled with God. It plainly says Jacob wrestles with “God and mortals.”

The piece of the story not read today, the content of the narrative both before and after this scene concerns the relationship of Jacob and the brother of Jacob, Esau from whom Jacob has been estranged. And, indeed, Jacob has led both a successful and a contentious life.

So, Jacob gets by because of wrestling both with family and with everyone else. And while I don’t want to place emphasis on the combative aspect of the word ‘wrestling’ it is clear Jacob comes away from the struggle changed by the engagement, changed by life, itself. Jacob is injured, traumatized by life.

And who among us has not been traumatized by life in some way? At some point each of us has had to wrestle. Each of us has had a heavy heart because of something.

We all wonder what the future holds. We all have had failures and times which inflict feelings of being unworthy. It’s likely each of us has faced the death of a loved one— a parent, a spouse or even a child.

Some of us have experienced the anxiety of being socially marginalized. Some may be perplexed, even angry because obstacles are constantly put in our way. And we ask in each of these circumstances: “Does God care?” (Slight pause.)

I think if there is anything this story says, it says that God does care. It says that God engages with us in life.

Hence, rumor to the contrary, God is not Santa Claus. God is not some ‘Fix-it’ person. Rather, God stands in solidarity with us, is present to us.

And, perhaps that is the hard part about us wrestling with God. Perhaps we want Santa Claus, not God. But a God who is really God is not a fantasy.

And life which is really life is not a fantasy. Real life consists of ups and downs, joys and concerns, struggles and silliness. (Slight pause.)

Every day, our denomination sends out a daily reflection by e-mail. You can sign up for them, if you like.

Lillian Daniel writes some of them. She is the Senior Pastor of First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, a large suburban church in the Chicago area. This was yesterday’s reflection written by her. (Slight pause.)

“On Tuesday nights, a group gathers in our church lobby to knit prayer shawls, baby blankets and booties for the members of our congregation. The knitting ministry meets the same night as our church council.”

“So while we are in the conference room making what might [euphemistically] be called big picture decisions about the life of the church, just a few feet away on the couches in the lobby other people are knitting for the sick, the new babies or those in need of any kind of healing. I think it’s a nice combination of ministry on Tuesday nights, like a check and balance system for what leadership in the church is all about.”

“I still have the prayer shawl I received from my current church when I was sick, and I still have the prayer shawl I received from my former church when my mother passed away. I went on to inherit the prayer shawl her church made for her when she first fell ill. They all lie around my house as extra blankets in the family room, ordinary objects infused with prayer in the midst of our ordinary lives.”

“The prayer shawl didn’t cure my mother’s fatal illness. But there is no question in my mind that it was a conduit of healing. It remains a symbol to me of how all our churches are knit together by the Holy Spirit.”

“New babies receive a hand-made gift to keep them warm, blessed by prayer before it is given away. It’s a symbol of a beautiful Biblical metaphor that goes back many thousands of years.”

“It seems that people have been knitting for one another forever, perhaps ever since God, the original knitter, knit each one of us together in our mother’s womb. So indeed, we are wonderfully made.” — Lillian Daniel on knitting, on meetings and on life. (Slight pause.)

This is a poem.

I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.
Perhaps I got that notion
from my mother
for whom life did seem easy,
not from my father,
who was strong,
gentle and tried to teach me
about the wisdom of the sky
from whence life
often sears the soul and tries.

I know now that life is not easy
and as I lay prostrate
on the ground.
I can hear the other one— the sound
of heavy breathing,
and my own,
as I moan in pain and
we grapple neath the moonlit sky.
I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.

Things change but the sky does not
and it is hard to see
where I needed to go
for no one gave me anything—
a map, a plan, a route to take.
So I had to make
and rake and break
and do whatever I had to do
to see me through.

And You! You!
You are here beside me
and I know not why.
Are you the sky?

What if I surrender, give up, stop?
Will that matter?
Will You offer a blessing?
Will that matter?
And what does it matter
that the sky goes on and on—
the stars glisten above our heads until dawn,
and then the stars are... gone?

Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Theologian Walter Bruggemann has said this about the God found in Scripture: ‘The image of God painted is a God of intentional artistic illusiveness’— intentional artistic illusiveness. God is real, but like anyone else we know, any friend, God cannot be fully explained. God can be experienced.”

BENEDICTION: Let us never fear to seek the truth God reveals. Let us live as a resurrection people. Let us understand every day as a new adventure in faith as the Creator draws us into community. So, go now, go in safety— for you cannot go where God is not. Go now— go in love— for love alone endures. Go now— go with purpose and God will honor your dedication. And last, go in peace— for it is a gift from God to those whose hearts and minds are in Christ, Jesus. Amen.

[1] As indicated, this is from the Still Speaking Devotional series sent out daily. Full disclosure: I did add one word to Lillian’s piece. That word is euphemistically.

[2] This poem was composed for this sermon by the Pastor. Its title is Jacob’s Lament.

The Love of Christ ~ Sermon ~ 07/24/2011

07/24/2011 ~ Proper 12 ~ 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Sixth Sunday after Pentecost ~ Genesis 29:15-28; Psalm 105:1-11, 45b or Psalm 128; 1 Kings 3:5-12; Psalm 119:129-136; Romans 8:26-39; Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52.

The Love of Christ

“What will separate us from the love of Christ? Trouble? Hardship? Distress? Calamity? Persecution? Famine? Hunger? Nakedness? Peril? Danger? The sword? Violence?” — Romans 8:35 [ILV]

The Rev. Dr. Glenn Miller, my Church History professor in seminary, is a Southern gentleman and very laid back. Nothing ruffles him. I have proof.

I was standing next to Glenn when a student approached and asked what I’d have to rate, in all Christian charity, as one of the silliest questions I’ve ever heard. “Dr. Miller— you’re offering a survey class in Church History this semester.” Glenn nodded. “What does that cover?”

Needless to say a survey course, by definition, covers the entire subject. Dr. Miller remained calm. He said, “Well, it’s a survey course... in Church History.”

“Yes,” the student insisted on pursuing this strange line of inquiry. “What does that survey cover?”

Glenn smiled. There was a twinkle in his eye. I could tell mischief was afoot. [The pastor mimics the motions in the following description.] Glenn reached out his left hand as far to the left as he could. “Jesus,” he said, “died somewhere over here— about the year 30 of the Common Era.”

Then he reached out his right hand as far to the right as he could. “Jesus will come back somewhere over here... we don’t yet know when.”

Glenn then looked back and forth across an imaginary line created by the distance between the two hands and made a pronouncement. “A survey course in Church History covers everything in between.” (Slight pause.)

I think I’ve actually told that story here before. But I was reminded of it because of a recent article in the magazine The Christian Century. The piece reported that American students don’t know much about the history of our nation.

When tested, most fourth graders can’t explain why Abraham Lincoln is important. Only 2 percent of high school seniors could name the social problem the Supreme Court addressed in Brown versus the Board of Education.

Lendol Calder, of Augustana College in Illinois, the article said, had been exploring this problem. At the start of a survey course in American History this professor asks students to write a short paper on the history of the United States. They are to write it without using any resources.

The students think they are being tested on factual knowledge. But the deeper purpose is to find out what they think the American story says.

Over the 15 years Calder has used that exercise the number of students who think of the American past as a story about gaining freedom has consistently and constantly dropped. It is now less than 20 percent. And that’s not even the real problem.

The real problem is this story has not been replaced by another story. Over 80 percent see the American past as just one thing after another— a jumble of disconnected events. Calder wonders if the American narrative cannot be seen as any kind of unfolding story, not even one about freedom, then does it seem meaningless?

Indeed, if there is no narrative framework, is it possible students cannot and are not able to see themselves in that story, to see themselves as inheritors of freedom. Last, if people have no narrative sense of the American story and its movement toward freedom, are they likely to be susceptible to ideologues who weave their own versions of the past in order to manipulate emotions? (Slight pause.)

My Church History professor, Dr. Miller, insisted history is not about dates and facts. History is about narrative, about story, about movement over the course of centuries, like the American movement toward freedom.

History is, therefore and paradoxically, personal. It is personal because we are a part of the story. But history cannot be personal unless we can see ourselves as a continuation of a story.

So, what is this narrative of American freedom? Freedom did not happen overnight but over the course of centuries. The two instances I mentioned earlier— Lincoln was president from 1861 to 1865. But the Era of Lincoln was from around 1840 to 1870, when slavery was contested.

The decision known as Brown versus the Board of Education happened in 1954. It insisted civil rights were for all people and that separate is not equal. But we need to see the American struggle for equal rights as starting when the first slave of African descent landed on these shores.

And we need to see this movement as one which continues even today. And we need to see us— here, now— as a continuing part of that story about freedom.

Unless we come to grips with narrative and how it effects us, personally, unless we see ourselves within the framework of history, we are left thrashing around wondering who we are, as we try to figure out what’s happening around us. Unless we see history as part of our own story, there are only disconnected events. Indeed, unless we see ourselves in the context of the story we lose a part of ourselves. (Slight pause.)

And these words are from the work known as Romans: “What will separate us from the love of Christ? Trouble? Hardship? Distress? Calamity? Persecution? Famine? Hunger? Nakedness? Peril? Danger? The sword? Violence?” (Slight pause.)

Can we, do we see ourselves as a part of the story about the relationship between God and humanity? (Slight pause.) [The pastor holds up a hand and points to the thumb finger and pinky finger as a beginning and an end.] When I do Bible study I start with a premise. I ask what does the Bible mean from beginning to end, from Genesis to Revelation— the whole arc?

The Bible means God loves us and wants to covenant with us. That’s what the narrative is about. That’s the whole story.

Hence, to ask what this verse says over here in Leviticus or to ask this verse here in Romans says is inadequate— always inadequate. [Again the pastor points to fingers on the hand.] We need to ask how what is said in Leviticus and what is said in Romans— how these verses fit into the basic story— the basic story— the one that says God loves us and wants to covenant with us.

Indeed, if we look at one of those verses and decide it says God does not love someone or that someone is outcast, we’ve not just misread the narrative. Either we do not really know the narrative or we’ve twisted the story beyond recognition.

Further, this needs to be personal. We need to see ourselves in that narrative, a story which says God loves us and wants to covenant with us. All of which is to say, that the basic narrative, the basic story of the Bible is really, really simple: God loves each of us. God loves all of us. (Slight pause.)

So, “What will separate us from the love of Christ?” If we do not see ourselves and everyone else as a part of the narrative of the love of God, all these aforementioned things— trouble, hardship, distress, calamity, persecution, famine, hunger, nakedness, peril, danger, the sword, violence— will separate us from the love of God. They will separate us from what God has done for us in Christ. (Slight pause.)

I need to be clear about something. What this does not say— what this does not say— is that trouble, hardship, distress, calamity, persecution, famine, hunger, nakedness, peril, danger, the sword or violence will cease to exist because of the love God offers. You see, as Christians, we believe the peace of God is with us.

But the peace of God is not the absence of trouble, hardship, et cetera. The peace of God is, rather, the presence of God.

And, as Christians, we believe Christ lives. We believe the presence of Christ is with us, the presence of God is with us— here, now. (Slight pause.)

A relationship with God, you see, just like any other relationship, is personal. And once we realize that nothing can separate us from Christ, once we see ourselves as children of God, that relationship becomes very, very personal.

Why? Because we see ourselves as loved by God in Christ, Jesus, and we see ourselves as a part of the story— part of the story called The Love of God. The Love of God— I could be wrong but is that not the greatest story ever told? Amen.

07/24/2011
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: “Another seminary student, not the one from the earlier story, once said to me that the reason the professors wanted us to write so many papers is they wanted us re-write the Bible. ‘No,’ I said. ‘They want to empower us to know the story of the Bible so well that we can relate what Bible says using our own words.’ I think that illustrates the relationship we need to Scripture because it is about relationship. It is personal.”

BENEDICTION
Let us recognize that the transforming power of the love God offers 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 else and nothing else. Amen.

07/03/2011 ~ Sermon ~ In Christ

07/03/2011 ~ Proper 9 ~ 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Third Sunday after Pentecost ~ Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67; Psalm 45:10-17 or Song of Solomon 2:8-13; Zechariah 9:9-12; Psalm 145:8-14; Romans 7:15-25a; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 ~ Communion Sunday ~ Pastor Joe Does North Guilford Also.

In Christ

“There is, therefore, now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” — Romans 8:1.

It used to be, if you were in the recording business, indeed, it used to be— to use the euphemism— if you were a recording artist, July was an important, special month. July was the month many artists— instrumentalists and singers— went into the studio and recorded... Christmas albums. With technology today, that time frame has gotten a little shorter, in part because the distribution aspect of being a recording artist no longer involves vinyl— vinyl which was a slow process.

I was reminded of that because in the last several weeks Tom Rasely and I have been doing the composer and lyricist equivalent of inhabiting a recording studio in July. The first Sunday in Advent this year is November 27th. So, yes, a couple of weeks ago we wrote an anthem which seems appropriate for the Season of Advent.

And yes, in this last week we’ve been working on something for Christmas. And yes, right now is that part of the monthly cycle within the Julian calendar which seems so opposite from Christmas: the Summer month called July. Or at least it seems opposite when you’re in the Northern Hemisphere. Do remember— Christmas in Australia comes in the Summer and the Summer in Australia comes in December.

Now, the reason I bring up Christmas, even though it is July, has to do with the fact that writing these Advent and Christmas pieces got me thinking about what it is we celebrate at Christmas from the theological perspective. (Slight pause.) And what do we celebrate?

Do we merely celebrate the birth of a child? If so, what details do we connect with the celebration? Was the child born at night? The shepherds hear about the birth at night. But does the birth happen then? Scripture does not tell us. We can imply it was at night, but there is nothing which actually describes the time of day the birth happened.

Was there a bright light? Scripture does not tell us that, either. It tells us shepherds experienced (quote): “the Glory of God.” In Hebrew that word “Glory” would be kabode and we are pretty sure, even though Luke is written in Greek, that’s the reference being made— kabode— the “Glory of God.”

Now, we are not totally sure of the meaning of kabode— but we know it shines but that does not mean it is the same as light. Some scholars believe kabode is something akin to the essence of God or the presence of God. But while describing kabode as ‘light’ may be as close as we can get, that description is probably not exact. (Slight pause.)

Did the angels sing? Scripture does not tell us that, either. In fact, Scripture clearly states that, first, one angel speaks and then a whole bunch of angels— if you will allow me to refer to angels as ‘a bunch of angels’— Scripture tells us a whole bunch of angels speak. No singing is mentioned in the Greek.

Now, don’t worry. I am not a spoil sport. I am not trying to take anything away from how we celebrate Christmas. In fact, the piece Tom and I are working on has singing angels— a bunch of singing angels.

What I am trying to do here is to ask some serious questions. In short, I am not asking ‘what happened at the birth of the Messiah?’ I am not asking ‘how did the birth of the Messiah happen?’ These questions are, in a real sense, irrelevant.

The more important question to be asked about Christmas and the question I am really asking is: ‘what does the birth of the Messiah mean to us here, now?’ What does it mean to us that, as Christians, we proclaim that Jesus is alive and lives among us? (Slight pause.)

And these words are from the work known as Romans: “There is, therefore, now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Slight pause.)

So, why does Paul say there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus? And what might that mean? Indeed, is the very statement, in and of itself, a condemnation of those who don’t accept Jesus or is that kind of separation of wheat from chaff not central in what Paul is trying to say? (Slight pause.)

So, let’s ask that previous question again: ‘what is Christmas about?’ I want to suggest that a deep understanding of what Christmas is about rests not on shepherds or angels. A deep understanding of Christmas rests on our recognition of the reality of the presence of God in our midst.

Equally, a deep understanding of this passage from Romans rests on the reality of Jesus and on the reality of what God has done in Jesus. God has revealed God’s own self in a way which has not happened before the birth of Jesus.

And what is God saying in this event? God is saying ‘I am with you for all times. I am with you for all eternity. Death should hold no fear because of my presence with you.’

Indeed, we need to understand the Christian short hand used in these words, shorthand which claims that we are “one in Christ.” To be “one in Christ” means we recognize the presence of God among us, the presence of God in one another, the presence of God in the lives of all people. (Slight pause.)

I once saw a sign held up by someone who was participating in a protest. The sign read: “Equal Justice, Not Social Justice.” I was left scratching my head on that one since these— equal justice and social justice— are one and the same.

Why? These is no justice but the justice offered by God. There is no such thing as my justice or your justice. There is only the justice of God.

And the justice God offers says we are all loved. The justice of God says we are all one. Hence, equal justice is social justice. And social justice is equal justice.

The advent of Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, you see, says we are one, we are all loved, equally. The advent of Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah says we are one people gathered to do the will and the work of God.

The advent of Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah says God is with us throughout eternity. Hence (quote), “There is, therefore, now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Amen.

07/03/2011
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: “Over time, I have become convinced that when we read Scripture we need to try to understand it the way those who first heard or read it understood it. Those who first heard the story of the birth of Jesus did not comprehend it as being about the birth of a child but understood angels speaking as a sign of the real presence of God. Those who first heard Paul’s words from Romans understood the universality of the message, understood that the lives of all people had been changed— that’s all people— had been changed because of Jesus.”

BENEDICTION
May God bless our minds and help us as we think; may God bless our lips and help us as we speak; and may God bless our hearts and help us as we love. And may we receive this blessing in the name of the Triune God— Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.

06/26/2011 ~ SERMON ~ DISCIPLESHIP

06/26/2011 ~ Proper 8 ~ 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Second Sunday after Pentecost ~ Genesis 22:1-14; Psalm 13; Jeremiah 28:5-9; Psalm 89:1-4, 15-18; Romans 6:12-23; Matthew 10:40-42 ~ Annual Organizational Meeting. [1]

Discipleship

“But the truth is whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these lowly ones just for being a disciple will not lack a reward.” — Matthew 10:42.


Alice in Wonderland was written by one Charles Dodgson, under the pseudonym Lewis Carroll. It tells of the story Alice, who falls down a rabbit hole. The entertaining and unnerving part for the reader is this strange world, this fantasy world, makes a whole lot of sense.

One scene reads like this— Alice to the Cheshire Cat: “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”

The Cat: “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”

Alice: “I don’t much care where.”

The Cat: “Then it doesn’t much matter which way you go.” (Slight pause.)

Now, that’s a deep truth. If you don’t care where you’re going, it doesn’t matter which way you go. Indeed, if you don’t care where you’re going how can you get lost?

It seems to me that over the last decade ‘lost’ is not only the title of a popular television program, the word, itself, has acted as an explanation of society. We have often seemed lost. Is it that we have not paid attention to where we are going or is it that we just don’t care?

I’m not sure, but I’m not the only one pondering about how lost we are. Last December Time Magazine addressed the systemic failures of institutions in the first decade of the 21st Century, starting with our inability to decide who the president might be in the 2000 election— a failure of the political system.

Then we had terrorist attacks— a failure of the intelligence system. Then we had the initiation of two wars without clear objectives— a failure of the military system.

You get the picture. Time then enumerates failures from Hurricane Katrina to the economy— and lays the problem squarely in one place: these are institutional failures, it says. [2]

The paradox and the confusion for us as a society is that throughout the 20th Century institutions served us well. So, the obvious question is: does that mean we ditch institutions? Or does that mean we need to find out what’s wrong and correct it? (Slight pause.)

The wisdom of the Cheshire Cat says if you don’t care where you’re going, it doesn’t matter which way you go. Perhaps we have too often and too much relied on institutions to tell us where to go. And I think that’s the real issue. And I think that’s the real issue because we’ve got it backwards.

We are in charge, not our institutions. Institutions have no mind but ours. It is we who need to tell our institutions where to go or the institutions won’t know how to get there. (Slight pause.)

Is the church an institution? Yes. And unless each of us gives the church direction about where to go, the church does not and will not know how to get there.

Now, we create institutions and we create them with goals in mind. So, what is the goal of the church? (Slight pause.)

The goal of the church is to transform lives. I’m not making that up. That’s been true since the day of Pentecost. The goal of the church is to transform lives.

The future of the church lies in its ability, its competence, its readiness to transform lives. And who empowers the church to be able, to be competent, to be ready to transform lives? We do. (Slight pause.)

The church, you see, is only an institution. The church is only as able, as competent and as ready as we are. So, how do we empower the institution known as church to transform lives?

By acting as disciples. And, in the words of Jesus, when we give a cup of cold water to a lowly one, we are transformed. We become disciples. (Slight pause.)

What is church is about? Some will tell you church is about music. Some will tell you church is about fellowship. Some will tell you church is about buildings. Some will tell you church is about education.

All these are a part of the church but the church is about none of these. Church is about being disciples who transform our own lives by our own actions and through our relationship with God transform the lives of those around us by our own actions and through our relationships with one another. In short, the church transforms lives because we are disciples.

Music, fellowship, buildings, education are not a means to an end. Discipleship is the means. Music, fellowship, buildings, education are the results of discipleship.

Unless we strive to be disciples and unless we are disciples not only will we not know where we are going, the institution known as the church will not know where it is and not know where it is going. In short, discipleship actually means we are, each of us, leaders. Amen.

06/26/2011
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: “In the bulletin this morning you will find a list of so called United Church of Christ “firsts.” These range from some churches taking an early stand against slavery in 1700 to the Old South Church in Boston being a meeting place where leaders of the American Revolution gathered to being the first in historic Protestantism to ordain a person of African American descent to ordaining the first woman to ordaining the first openly gay person. But it was not the denomination or its predecessors who did this, nor was it even individual churches who did this. It was individuals acting within their institutions who did this. The individuals told the institutions where to go and what needed to be done. In short, everything starts with us— with you and with me.”

BENEDICTION:
May we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much. May we be so in awe of God, that we are in awe of no one else and nothing else. Amen.

[1] Note: This sermon is shorter than most in part because this church has its Annual Organizational Meeting inside the context of the service of worship.

[2] Some of the above examples: i.e.: the Cheshire Cat and the existence of the Time Magazine article, are found in Liberating Hope: Daring to Renew the Mainline Church by Michael S. Piazza and Cameron B. Trimble. I, however, go in a very different direction with my thinking.

PASTOR’S REPORT 2010-2011

PASTOR’S REPORT 2010-2011

Many of you know that with my Annual Report I try to look toward the future, not at the past. Striving to illuminate the past is not the place on which people in positions of theological leadership should dwell. That, having been said, let’s look ahead.

************************************************

Archbishop Desmond Tutu recently had a new book published. Its title attracts immediate attention: God Is Not A Christian: And Other Provocations.

In it Tutu tells the story of a person who is inebriated, who crosses a street to the opposite side, accosts someone walking on that side of the street and asks, “Which way to the other side of the street?” Needless to say, given that this pixilated pedestrian had just crossed the street, it seemed to be a silly question.

The person of whom the question was asked, somewhat nonplused, pointed to the side from where the tipsy traveler had just come and replied, “That side, of course!”

“Strange,” said inebriated pedestrian. “When I was on that side, they said it was this side.”

The point the Archbishop was making (and on which Tutu elaborates) is where the other side of the street really is depends on where the one giving the answer to that question is located right now. Perspective differs with context.

Further, the things that have helped form us give us grounding. Religion is one of the most potent of these formative influences. It helps to determine how and what we understand of reality and how we operate in our own specific context.

Hence, this seems overwhelmingly simple: accidents of birth and geography determine to a very large extent to what faith we belong. The chances are very great that if you were born in Pakistan you are a Muslim or, if you happened to be born in India a Hindu or, if it is Japan, a Shintoist. Needless to say, you are likely to be a Christian if you were born in Italy. The relationship of location to tradition seems obvious.

‘What is the significant fact that can be drawn from this?’ asks Tutu. Perhaps that we should not succumb too easily to the temptation to be exclusive and dogmatic. You could so easily have been an adherent of the faith that you are now denigrating but for the fact that you were born here rather than there.

But the esteemed Archbishop makes a deeper point. Our God, the God we worship, would be severely small if that God was not also the God of Gandhi. God is a God of all people, whether anyone else acknowledges this or not.

Put another way, God does not need our protection. Indeed, it is often said, somewhat in jest, that God created humanity in God’s own image and humanity has returned the compliment, saddling God with our own narrow prejudices and exclusivity, foibles and temperamental quirks.

In short, God remains God, whether God has worshipers or not. God does not need us. We need God.

Tutu is also clear about the Christian position: Christ as unique. The reality of Christ helps us understand a fullness of God.

I want to come back to the point Tutu made: God does not need us. We need God. It seems breathtakingly evident. And yet, there are times we seem to be apathetic about God and about the institution of church.

Indeed, how often have you heard that people just don’t care? Dave Meslin, an artist, an organizer and a self proclaimed “professional rabble-rouser” recently gave a talk on apathy. “How often have you been told,” he asks, “that real substantial change is not possible because people are too selfish, too lazy or too busy to try to make a difference in their community?”

His claim is that people do care but we live in a world which discourages engagement. One of the things Meslin centers on to expand on this idea is a series of ten movies. This is the list: The Matrix, Harry Potter, The Golden Compass, Pokemon, Power Rangers, Sailor Moon, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, Alice in Wonderland, The Neverending Story, The Golden Child.

Meslin asks, ‘what do these movies have in common?’ The answer is they all have heros who are chosen. Someone comes up to them tells them they are a part of a prophecy and says, “You have to save the world.” And they go off and save the world with a few people tagging along because they’ve been told to do that. These are hero stories.

This helps Meslin understand why a lot of people have trouble seeing themselves as leaders. The sole hero, he says, does not, in any way, illustrate leadership. It is not an example of leadership. A real heroic effort is a collective effort. Real leadership is about the group, not about the individual.

Additionally, real leadership is an ongoing process. And, unlike movies which tell a slice of a story, real life is an ongoing process. Real leadership does not suddenly start and suddenly end. Further more, real leadership is not very glamorous. It is a day to day to day to day effort which strives to move a group along productive paths. It is a journey.

Last, and perhaps most importantly, real heroism, real leadership is voluntary. As long as we believe that to be a hero someone puts a scratch on your head or tells you that you are part of a prophecy or that you need to save the world, you do not have a choice in the matter. You are designated.

Leadership, he says, is a choice. We enter into leadership by our own volition, uninvited and we work with others to envision what collective dreams are and work with others to help those dreams become a reality.

Pastor and theologian John C. O’Keefe says the same thing in a different way: ‘the church is an organic life form not a Limited Partnership; “Church, LP” is not church. The church is not a company. It is not a social gathering.’

Which brings me back to Desmond Tutu. It goes without saying the Archbishop is right. God does not need us. We need God.

Because of our need, the church becomes pivotal in our life. Why?

In today’s world the church is the only place where are can come together as community to tell, to hold, to share, to listen, to love, to pray, to feed and to teach. The question for us, hence, is this: are we willing to admit our need. Are we willing to commit to God because God both loves us and God calls us to a life where we are to tell, to hold, to share, to listen, to love, to pray, to feed, to teach.

The Rev. Mr. Joseph Connolly
Pastor and Teacher