Sometimes the fear paralyzes my courage.
Their arms, scarred unfathomably deep, remind me that I have lived a life of privilege. I have slept outside only for the fun of it. Only after purchasing expensive equipment to do so safely. I can count the number of nights I have lived in transition; always from one bed to another. I have never known a night without a promise of morning.
My greatest fear is that my heart will grow hard - that their pain will become routine. That I will stop noticing the scars. But perhaps that is all they want.
Maybe they are counting on my courage to kick in and for me to see them as normal.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
When I was at my college, it seemed that no one could find a pastor who preached a good sermon. The sermons weren't exegetical enough - "He only tells stories" - or they were too boring - "It wouldn't kill him to tell a joke every now and then" - or anything else on the list of complaints.
I was quite critical of my pastors' sermons. This was a reflection of my theological education. There's something about learning the Bible that makes you feel vastly superior to everyone else.
Now I feel differently. I feel that a pastor who cares about his or her congregation really can't preach a bad sermon. A caring pastor might not hit the needs of every member ever week - but he or she will work to meet the needs of the people through the spoken word. And ultimately, I think that's all that matters.
I preach somewhat regularly at Youth to Jesus. I enjoy this role. It's a creative outlet - it's difficult, but in a good way.
I imagine my college peers would feel that my sermons aren't exegetical enough (meaning that I don't go through and explain the Greek word by word and explain every custom of the Hebrew people to extract the exact meaning as originally given) (but, I mean ... I've read Jesus' sermons and it seems to me that he told a lot of stories, too)
I think that some pastors are really great public speakers. And good for them. But, I don't think that should be understood to make them great pastors. Fancy words don't make a pastor great.
Our lives are the sermons we preach most often. I would rather have a pastor who consistently preaches 5s and 6s from the pulpit, but knocks it out of the ballpark with 9s and 10s in daily life sermons.
I was quite critical of my pastors' sermons. This was a reflection of my theological education. There's something about learning the Bible that makes you feel vastly superior to everyone else.
Now I feel differently. I feel that a pastor who cares about his or her congregation really can't preach a bad sermon. A caring pastor might not hit the needs of every member ever week - but he or she will work to meet the needs of the people through the spoken word. And ultimately, I think that's all that matters.
I preach somewhat regularly at Youth to Jesus. I enjoy this role. It's a creative outlet - it's difficult, but in a good way.
I imagine my college peers would feel that my sermons aren't exegetical enough (meaning that I don't go through and explain the Greek word by word and explain every custom of the Hebrew people to extract the exact meaning as originally given) (but, I mean ... I've read Jesus' sermons and it seems to me that he told a lot of stories, too)
I think that some pastors are really great public speakers. And good for them. But, I don't think that should be understood to make them great pastors. Fancy words don't make a pastor great.
Our lives are the sermons we preach most often. I would rather have a pastor who consistently preaches 5s and 6s from the pulpit, but knocks it out of the ballpark with 9s and 10s in daily life sermons.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Healing
My hand suffered a small cut on December 5, 2009. It was a big day and the cut was an insignificant part of it. The cut happened to be only a centimeter or two, but it took months to heal. The emotional damage of that day was significantly more severe - and I don't know how long it will take to heal.
Goodbyes hurt for a lifetime. While my cut was still scabbing over in March, it eventually healed and only left a small scar. I don't know if the rest of me will be so lucky.
An old man was once telling me about his wife. She had died years before, but he described her and his love for her in such words that it seemed that she had passed during the night and the ambulance was still sitting in the driveway.
It's safe to assume that goodbyes don't get easier with age. Just more numerous.
Dad told me that I had to talk louder. I was already yelling, but dad told me that I had to yell louder. I didn't understand, because Aunt Carol wasn't hard of hearing. Only a few weeks before I had shared the joke [How do you make a hanky dance? You put a little boogie in it!] with her. She had shared it with everyone at the hospital. Staff and other patients. She told us about one patient who had escaped from the cancer ward to go drink at a local bar. It was clear from her description of his shots that she may have also escaped for a few drinks. And when she wanted a hug I refused because I was scared. She had so many machines hooked up to her and she was screaming to be heard. I was only 8. I never said goodbye.
[What's harder than saying goodbye? Not saying goodbye!]
Goodbyes hurt for a lifetime. While my cut was still scabbing over in March, it eventually healed and only left a small scar. I don't know if the rest of me will be so lucky.
An old man was once telling me about his wife. She had died years before, but he described her and his love for her in such words that it seemed that she had passed during the night and the ambulance was still sitting in the driveway.
It's safe to assume that goodbyes don't get easier with age. Just more numerous.
Dad told me that I had to talk louder. I was already yelling, but dad told me that I had to yell louder. I didn't understand, because Aunt Carol wasn't hard of hearing. Only a few weeks before I had shared the joke [How do you make a hanky dance? You put a little boogie in it!] with her. She had shared it with everyone at the hospital. Staff and other patients. She told us about one patient who had escaped from the cancer ward to go drink at a local bar. It was clear from her description of his shots that she may have also escaped for a few drinks. And when she wanted a hug I refused because I was scared. She had so many machines hooked up to her and she was screaming to be heard. I was only 8. I never said goodbye.
[What's harder than saying goodbye? Not saying goodbye!]
Monday, July 12, 2010
Sermon July 15th
Mary and Martha.
Luke 9:38 - 42 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
We enter into a situation of sibling rivalry in our story today. We find ourselves with Jesus seeing an all too common side of human life. There were other sibling rivalries in the Bible – Cain and Able, Jacob and Esau – and they didn’t end so well. We enter the lives and we think we know the story – we think we have lived this story.
My sister and I are four years apart. When we were in school my sister was perfect. I say this not out of spite or in exaggeration, but simply as a fact. It’s _____ insert current weather______ outside today and my sister was perfect. My sister was a natural leader and an obvious teacher’s pet. She would grow up to be a doctor, and her academic resume reflect her future career path. She visited teaching hospitals throughout High School and sang and played her instrument in regional competitions.
I was not perfect. I was awkwardly shaped and couldn’t do many things well. I wasn’t a leader. I didn’t like school and my teachers knew it. I didn’t play an instrument well and I didn’t sing well yet. I did my own thing. I was artsy and thought outside of the box.
It was sometimes a miserable experience to grow up in the shadow of my big sister. I can’t count the times teachers explained to me how much smarter my sister was and how much better she was.
When I read today’s story I immediately tense up. He visited “Martha’s home.” Not the home of Mary and Martha … or even the home of Martha and Mary … but the home of Martha.
We find value in busyness. In offices we jokingly "look busy" when the boss walks through the room. Martha is a busy person. As head of the household it is her responsibility to ensure that everyone is healthy, happy, and well fed. There is always a roast in the oven and dishes to be done. Martha feels as though she simply can't get ahead.
I dislike all repetitive tasks. I always try to get out of doing dishes. Washing, hanging, and folding laundry is tedious. Making my bed is pointless. The same dishes will be dirty and stacked in the sink tomorrow, the clothes will just get dirty again, and no one will see my neatly pressed sheets before I mess them up again the next night.
I tell people that I hate doing these things because I'm a boy - but I think it goes deeper than that. I think I'm a Mary person.
Perhaps the whole world can be broken down into Martha people and Mary people.
We don’t value Mary people the way we should
Mary was an afterthought. Mary could never measure up to her big sister. Perhaps she was a little lazy and maybe not as bright or put together as her sister.
Maybe Mary was all of these things – but at least she had her priorities straight. When she was interested or intrigued she followed her gut. When Jesus of Nazareth came through Mary realized that the dishes in the sink didn’t matter.
Jesus had just come from teaching. He had been out and about and a religious leader asks “Who is my neighbor.” He tells the story of the good Samaritan. In the familiar story, 2 good people pass by one of their own and only the last, a political enemy stops to help the injured man. In David’s telling of the story, the Russian politician is the one who shows mercy.
The question is aked - who is my neighbor? Whom do I have to love? And Jesus resoundly answers … EVERYONE.
And in this setting, the all too familiar setting of sibling rivalry, the question is posed again - whom do I have to love? EVERYONE, even your sister. How often do I have to love? ALWAYS.
As a Christian, I need to love everyone. Even my perfect sister.
They say that sharing your faith with a family member is hardest. Witnessing to a stranger on the street is SO much easier than telling a family member that Jesus loves them. I think that Christians sometimes do street evangelism because they’re too scared to share real life with people.
I was taught once that if you have a hard time telling others about Jesus that you should look at yourself in the mirror. Say, Michael, I love you, and Jesus does too.
The gospel transitions from the abstract to the concrete. Whom do I have to love? “my neighbor”
Ok … what does that mean …. A political enemy and a perfect sister. Yep. Got it.
… How often do I have to love? Always.
I always read this story as though Martha finally got what she had coming. Final vindication for all the awards and diplomas my sister had earned.
I read the story wrong.
Jesus isn’t putting Martha down – he’s lifting Mary up. He’s teaching them to love one another and making them equals. I believe he’s teaching Martha to learn from Mary and Mary to learn from Martha. He’s teaching them to not jockey for position as leader; but to walk side by side – hand in hand as friends.
We see these sisters later on in the Jesus narrative and they are described as inseparable friends. They learned their lesson and began to love one another.
In college my sister stopped being so perfect and I grew up a whole bunch. Jesus has taught us to learn from each other and to walk side by side. I’m not in my sister’s shadow and she’s not in mine.
Some people see this story as an admonition that it’s better to sing praise hymns than to wash dishes. I don’t believe this is the case. Jesus doesn't speak out against the Martha people. Jesus speaks out against trying to change others to fit our mold.
Jesus commends Mary because she has lovingly accepted her sister for who she is. We all show love in different ways – Martha showed love by preparing the house and Mary showed loved by sitting and listening to Jesus – but Mary showed love to her sister by humbly accepting Martha for who she was. Martha had to take that step and accept her sister for who she was.
When we love others we accept who they are. We love our roommates even though they snore at night. We love our friends even though they do so many weird things. We love our families even though they are a little crazy. We love our sister even though she’s perfect.
Jesus doesn't want us to make people more like US - he wants us to make people more like HIM.
This is the essence of the Gospel message. Love God, Love others. Love your brother, love a commie pinko, hug a hippy, share a meal with a stranger, live with less and give the rest away, worship God daily. This is the core of the message.
Do you know that you are the Gospel?
You are the good news of Jesus Christ living in a sad world hungry for something more. Our lives open the Bible to thousands who will never crack the cover. To a hungry man, bread is good news. To a world that has never experienced unconditional love, your kindness is good news. You are the Gospel. You are the proof that Jesus rose from the dead 2000 years ago. Your life of loving service proves His divinity.
Go into all the world and love – even when it’s hard.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Luke 9:38 - 42 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
We enter into a situation of sibling rivalry in our story today. We find ourselves with Jesus seeing an all too common side of human life. There were other sibling rivalries in the Bible – Cain and Able, Jacob and Esau – and they didn’t end so well. We enter the lives and we think we know the story – we think we have lived this story.
My sister and I are four years apart. When we were in school my sister was perfect. I say this not out of spite or in exaggeration, but simply as a fact. It’s _____ insert current weather______ outside today and my sister was perfect. My sister was a natural leader and an obvious teacher’s pet. She would grow up to be a doctor, and her academic resume reflect her future career path. She visited teaching hospitals throughout High School and sang and played her instrument in regional competitions.
I was not perfect. I was awkwardly shaped and couldn’t do many things well. I wasn’t a leader. I didn’t like school and my teachers knew it. I didn’t play an instrument well and I didn’t sing well yet. I did my own thing. I was artsy and thought outside of the box.
It was sometimes a miserable experience to grow up in the shadow of my big sister. I can’t count the times teachers explained to me how much smarter my sister was and how much better she was.
When I read today’s story I immediately tense up. He visited “Martha’s home.” Not the home of Mary and Martha … or even the home of Martha and Mary … but the home of Martha.
We find value in busyness. In offices we jokingly "look busy" when the boss walks through the room. Martha is a busy person. As head of the household it is her responsibility to ensure that everyone is healthy, happy, and well fed. There is always a roast in the oven and dishes to be done. Martha feels as though she simply can't get ahead.
I dislike all repetitive tasks. I always try to get out of doing dishes. Washing, hanging, and folding laundry is tedious. Making my bed is pointless. The same dishes will be dirty and stacked in the sink tomorrow, the clothes will just get dirty again, and no one will see my neatly pressed sheets before I mess them up again the next night.
I tell people that I hate doing these things because I'm a boy - but I think it goes deeper than that. I think I'm a Mary person.
Perhaps the whole world can be broken down into Martha people and Mary people.
We don’t value Mary people the way we should
Mary was an afterthought. Mary could never measure up to her big sister. Perhaps she was a little lazy and maybe not as bright or put together as her sister.
Maybe Mary was all of these things – but at least she had her priorities straight. When she was interested or intrigued she followed her gut. When Jesus of Nazareth came through Mary realized that the dishes in the sink didn’t matter.
Jesus had just come from teaching. He had been out and about and a religious leader asks “Who is my neighbor.” He tells the story of the good Samaritan. In the familiar story, 2 good people pass by one of their own and only the last, a political enemy stops to help the injured man. In David’s telling of the story, the Russian politician is the one who shows mercy.
The question is aked - who is my neighbor? Whom do I have to love? And Jesus resoundly answers … EVERYONE.
And in this setting, the all too familiar setting of sibling rivalry, the question is posed again - whom do I have to love? EVERYONE, even your sister. How often do I have to love? ALWAYS.
As a Christian, I need to love everyone. Even my perfect sister.
They say that sharing your faith with a family member is hardest. Witnessing to a stranger on the street is SO much easier than telling a family member that Jesus loves them. I think that Christians sometimes do street evangelism because they’re too scared to share real life with people.
I was taught once that if you have a hard time telling others about Jesus that you should look at yourself in the mirror. Say, Michael, I love you, and Jesus does too.
The gospel transitions from the abstract to the concrete. Whom do I have to love? “my neighbor”
Ok … what does that mean …. A political enemy and a perfect sister. Yep. Got it.
… How often do I have to love? Always.
I always read this story as though Martha finally got what she had coming. Final vindication for all the awards and diplomas my sister had earned.
I read the story wrong.
Jesus isn’t putting Martha down – he’s lifting Mary up. He’s teaching them to love one another and making them equals. I believe he’s teaching Martha to learn from Mary and Mary to learn from Martha. He’s teaching them to not jockey for position as leader; but to walk side by side – hand in hand as friends.
We see these sisters later on in the Jesus narrative and they are described as inseparable friends. They learned their lesson and began to love one another.
In college my sister stopped being so perfect and I grew up a whole bunch. Jesus has taught us to learn from each other and to walk side by side. I’m not in my sister’s shadow and she’s not in mine.
Some people see this story as an admonition that it’s better to sing praise hymns than to wash dishes. I don’t believe this is the case. Jesus doesn't speak out against the Martha people. Jesus speaks out against trying to change others to fit our mold.
Jesus commends Mary because she has lovingly accepted her sister for who she is. We all show love in different ways – Martha showed love by preparing the house and Mary showed loved by sitting and listening to Jesus – but Mary showed love to her sister by humbly accepting Martha for who she was. Martha had to take that step and accept her sister for who she was.
When we love others we accept who they are. We love our roommates even though they snore at night. We love our friends even though they do so many weird things. We love our families even though they are a little crazy. We love our sister even though she’s perfect.
Jesus doesn't want us to make people more like US - he wants us to make people more like HIM.
This is the essence of the Gospel message. Love God, Love others. Love your brother, love a commie pinko, hug a hippy, share a meal with a stranger, live with less and give the rest away, worship God daily. This is the core of the message.
Do you know that you are the Gospel?
You are the good news of Jesus Christ living in a sad world hungry for something more. Our lives open the Bible to thousands who will never crack the cover. To a hungry man, bread is good news. To a world that has never experienced unconditional love, your kindness is good news. You are the Gospel. You are the proof that Jesus rose from the dead 2000 years ago. Your life of loving service proves His divinity.
Go into all the world and love – even when it’s hard.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
[Get creative!]
"...creative people, for the most part, exhibit active moods and positive affect. They’re not particularly happy — contentment is a kind of complacency creative people rarely have. But they’re engaged, motivated, and open to the world." - Newsweek, The Creativity Crisis - Bronson and Merryman
I'm a creative person. Hundreds of ideas swirl inside my mind during any second.
I feel that this makes me superior to you.
Rather, I feel that creative people are superior to non-creative people. I imagine that some of you are also creative.
I was sometimes punished for being creative.
Math classes were always boring. Once, I decided to create my own method of solving one type of problems. While my answers were correct, the work was different than everyone else. The teacher failed me for cheating. My mother took the test in to the teacher to show that I had arrived at the answers in a different way - and couldn't possibly have cheated. The teacher yelled at my mother for teaching me at home. I now realize that I had incredible potential in math and science, but that the education system failed me.
Every time I walk into a room I immediately see 10 ways in which the experience of the room could be improved. Churches drive me crazy because they lack creativity and I just sit and think of hundreds of improvements.
I live with other creative people. Our walls should be made of white-board so that we could write down all of our creative ideas. We use scraps of used paper. Sometimes our ideas are even too bizarre for each other. Sometimes I wonder if we are brilliantly creative or insane. One of my flat-mates designed a super-high ant hill this week.
I scrap most of my blog ideas because they are too "out-there." I hate the fact that I have to constantly reign in my creativity.
I'm constantly frustrated that I can't articulate my ideas. Not even that I have to censor myself, but that my artistic capabilities simply don't match up with my creative potential. I don't write well enough to capture the stories in my mind. I can't draw the pictures I see.
I'm a happy person by nature - but I'll never be content. I've never been anywhere I didn't want to leave eventually. I've never had a job that fulfilled me as a person or that satisfied my need to create.
Sometimes I'm incredibly happy and terribly depressed at the same time. I lack contentment because I have creativity in spades.
So maybe I'll help my flat-mate build his ant hill. Perhaps I'll have the dirt-moving skills to build it really high and really great. Maybe it will make me happy and maybe I'll be content. Maybe it will be our masterpiece.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Finding my voice
The margins are the most important part of any returned paper. After dozens of hard-fought days of putting off a paper, and a couple of wee-morning hours of actual writing; it is critical to examine the margins. Professor Thomas is infamous for her margin scribbles. They mirror her speaking cadence and rhythm perfectly.
Once she wrote a positive comment to let me know that I had found my "authentic voice." It is one of the most coveted red-pen markings her students look for; and I found it on my paper. Just once, though.
I have been preaching recently, and in writing and orating sermons I have tried to find my authentic voice in the sermons I preach. I can't help but realize that my "authentic voice" is a rich amalgamate of the voices who declared the Good News to me over my lifetime.
My sermons are timed by Pastor Rod Smith's watch. He was my childhood pastor, and to my recollection - his sermons never exceeded 15 minutes. They were rich and insightful. They connected the people and God. And they were short.
Rev. Lori Blocker taught me how to speak with vulnerability. Lori once shared a story with our congregation. She spoke of the great loneliness she felt to be sleeping alone - she described the ache and pain of celibacy beautifully - and then she described the sensation of literally feeling Jesus surround her with His arms and hold her. This story didn't sit well with the high-hair types and those with make-up to hide the bruises. The congregation hated it. The complained about it for weeks. I LOVED it. It was the most real thing that had happened in our church in ages and it opened a flood gate (it was only a little while later that a woman spoke of her families struggle with alcoholism - inspired, I believe, by Lori's vulnerable sermon) that brought renewal to our church.
Rev Bill Beatty taught me to always speak the truth. He apologizes publicly for sins committed publicly. He stops mid-sermon to correct any untruth he might have spoken. His sermons are interactive and accessible. They connect on many different levels and with all of the senses.
Pastor Craig taught me to preach the old time religion - and to let people know that the altar is always open. Pastor David and Pastor Charles gave me my cadence and rhythm. Dr Larsen and Dr Ken taught me to find where my congregation is and to work from there - but to not be afraid to challenge them.
Andy and Tom taught me to feel the beat and groove to the music while speaking. Darlene taught me to make a point and drive it home - to love the people enough to speak the truth in a non-judgmental voice.
I continue on the journey to find my "authentic voice." I feel that the journey is wonderful and illuminating.
Once she wrote a positive comment to let me know that I had found my "authentic voice." It is one of the most coveted red-pen markings her students look for; and I found it on my paper. Just once, though.
I have been preaching recently, and in writing and orating sermons I have tried to find my authentic voice in the sermons I preach. I can't help but realize that my "authentic voice" is a rich amalgamate of the voices who declared the Good News to me over my lifetime.
My sermons are timed by Pastor Rod Smith's watch. He was my childhood pastor, and to my recollection - his sermons never exceeded 15 minutes. They were rich and insightful. They connected the people and God. And they were short.
Rev. Lori Blocker taught me how to speak with vulnerability. Lori once shared a story with our congregation. She spoke of the great loneliness she felt to be sleeping alone - she described the ache and pain of celibacy beautifully - and then she described the sensation of literally feeling Jesus surround her with His arms and hold her. This story didn't sit well with the high-hair types and those with make-up to hide the bruises. The congregation hated it. The complained about it for weeks. I LOVED it. It was the most real thing that had happened in our church in ages and it opened a flood gate (it was only a little while later that a woman spoke of her families struggle with alcoholism - inspired, I believe, by Lori's vulnerable sermon) that brought renewal to our church.
Rev Bill Beatty taught me to always speak the truth. He apologizes publicly for sins committed publicly. He stops mid-sermon to correct any untruth he might have spoken. His sermons are interactive and accessible. They connect on many different levels and with all of the senses.
Pastor Craig taught me to preach the old time religion - and to let people know that the altar is always open. Pastor David and Pastor Charles gave me my cadence and rhythm. Dr Larsen and Dr Ken taught me to find where my congregation is and to work from there - but to not be afraid to challenge them.
Andy and Tom taught me to feel the beat and groove to the music while speaking. Darlene taught me to make a point and drive it home - to love the people enough to speak the truth in a non-judgmental voice.
I continue on the journey to find my "authentic voice." I feel that the journey is wonderful and illuminating.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Welcome to the Great Blog Post Challenge of 2010!
A group of friends and fellow bloggers have decided to challenge each other to think, write, and dream in new and innovative ways. The group will take turns challenging each other (with a topic, theme, photograph, song, etc... ) to write meaningful entries.
We all share a common fear of the unknown. Will people like my post? Will they be offended? Will they be bored? We are challenging each other to move beyond our normal frames of reference and to embrace new forms, media, styles, and content.
This might get interesting. When one of my post titles is [in brackets], be aware that it is an official submission for the [Challenge] and read it with a grain of salt.
Above all, we hope to grow as people and writers through this challenge. We hope, as a side benefit, that you will all enjoy our broader horizons as much as we do.
Friday, June 18, 2010
buried
Perhaps the cemetery was larger than people remembered, or perhaps no one cared. In the Austrian city of Lemberg, today the Ukrainian city of L'viv, a large Jewish temple sat back behind the famed opera house. A cemetery connected the two grand buildings.
When Hitler rolled in his men used the grave stones to pave roads, when Stalin marched through he expanded those roads. As capitalism makes its triumphant stroll, a few of those streets must be rebuilt. As the workers tore up old city streets to upgrade the sewer system they began to find graves well outside the perceived boundaries of the old Jewish cemetery.
The Nazis destroyed the old temple. All that remains is one small marker in Hebrew and English. Some little prick has painted a swastika on the marker. I tried for three hours to think of a more polite word for the person who would do such a thing. You have read the polite form.
Jonathan received more bad news from the latest rounds of medical tests. Things look more bleak now than they have ever looked before. He will need to begin treatments that his body can't physically handle in order to save his life - it's a catch-22 and I'm unbelievably angry and hurt.
My voice cracks and I can't seem to keep on pitch. Sitting alone in an apartment that suddenly seems so massively huge, I sing the songs that have helped before. Number 707 has brought great comfort in the past, today it rings hollow and empty. Today the pain sounds more true.
And I feel like such a selfish prick. I have treated my body horribly - I've eaten whatever I wanted, exercised rarely, and drank cheap liquor - and I'm healthy. I'm healthy. I get to fully realize my hopes and dreams and one of my closest friends might never have that chance.
And the graves are well outside of the perceived boundary of the cemetery. The feelings and thoughts that I'm having are not the typical emotions I should encounter. They are well outside of the boundary - for people to find a hundred years from now.
When Hitler rolled in his men used the grave stones to pave roads, when Stalin marched through he expanded those roads. As capitalism makes its triumphant stroll, a few of those streets must be rebuilt. As the workers tore up old city streets to upgrade the sewer system they began to find graves well outside the perceived boundaries of the old Jewish cemetery.
The Nazis destroyed the old temple. All that remains is one small marker in Hebrew and English. Some little prick has painted a swastika on the marker. I tried for three hours to think of a more polite word for the person who would do such a thing. You have read the polite form.
Jonathan received more bad news from the latest rounds of medical tests. Things look more bleak now than they have ever looked before. He will need to begin treatments that his body can't physically handle in order to save his life - it's a catch-22 and I'm unbelievably angry and hurt.
My voice cracks and I can't seem to keep on pitch. Sitting alone in an apartment that suddenly seems so massively huge, I sing the songs that have helped before. Number 707 has brought great comfort in the past, today it rings hollow and empty. Today the pain sounds more true.
And I feel like such a selfish prick. I have treated my body horribly - I've eaten whatever I wanted, exercised rarely, and drank cheap liquor - and I'm healthy. I'm healthy. I get to fully realize my hopes and dreams and one of my closest friends might never have that chance.
And the graves are well outside of the perceived boundary of the cemetery. The feelings and thoughts that I'm having are not the typical emotions I should encounter. They are well outside of the boundary - for people to find a hundred years from now.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sermon #5
This will be my last sermon before David and Shannon return. (I'll preach once in July and maybe occasionally through the fall - I have an idea for a sermon series I would like to write) so I should be able to get back to more regular blog posts soon.
In English we have many polite euphemisms for "sinful woman." I didn't use any of them. The adjectives I used are somewhat harsh and that is intentional. Too often we speak as though Christians are afraid of sinful people - I don't believe we should be. As followers of Jesus we should be more than capable of addressing sin head on, without the use of euphemism.
Our story picks up not too far from where we ended last week. Jesus entered the city of Nain and quickly made a name for himself by raising a young man back to life. A religious leader, a Pharisee, wants to dig deeper. He wants more facts before he makes his judgement call. Like Simon Cowell on American Idol - he just wants to hear a few more notes to decide if this person is the real deal or a sham.
You have to admit, it's all pretty fantastic. Jesus shows up out of nowhere and before he even says hello he stops a funeral parade to give a widow-woman her life back. So this Pharisee invites Jesus to his home so that he can get the rest of the story. He's not overly concerned with showing Jesus hospitality - he'll ask questions first and figure out if Jesus deserves to be treated like an honored guest.
Now last week we talked about a woman for whom everything had been taken. Today we look to a woman who gave it all up willingly. The widow woman didn't choose for her son to die. She didn't choose to lose everything. The woman today, arguably, made such a choice. She was known primarily by the sins she chose to commit. She chose to make her living on her back, and while most of the world would find sympathy for the widow - who cares about a prostitute?
Jesus shows up at the home of the Pharisee and is treated a little poorly. Jesus was a radical person, more or less homeless who entered cities and began teaching things that people had never heard before. He was probably used to being treated as less than the honored guest. Jesus was full of humility and took everything in stride. His own teaching was to sit at the place of least honor and wait to be brought to the seat of honor.
Jesus was probably sitting at a place of little honor, far from the host. If his hands had been washed at all, he was probably last after the water was already dirtied by several other more honored guests.
And then this woman enters through the open door. She is in all things, a contrast to the Pharisee hosting the dinner.
He is educated and respected. She is known to the whole community as the whore she is. He's righteous and faithful. She's slept with more people than she can remember.
The Pharisee is calm, cool, and collected. The woman is emotional and overwhelmingly forward. As a child he received an excellent education in the scriptures and old women would speak of the bright future he surely had. As a child she had been passed between male relatives or friends of her brothers.
These two would never be seen in public together.
She enters through the open door and immediately sees the One who can heal her heart and forgive her of her sins. Jesus was reclining at the table. In middle eastern cultures, you always sit with the flats of your feet facing out.
Feet are dirty and disgusting things. In some countries, showing the flats of your feet to someone is extremely rude. This was why it was shocking when Jesus had begun washing the feet of his disciples. Only the lowliest slave would wash feet - and apparently our Pharisee host thought that none of his slaves were lowely enough to bother to wash Jesus' feet, because by the time the woman entered Jesus' feet were still unwashed.
This emotional basket case of a woman rushes in and falls on the floor behind Jesus. She isn't even worthy for Jesus to see her face. She was a bad person. Where do you think she got the money for the expensive ointment in the alabaster jar? She earned her money pulling tricks and apparently she was quite good at her profession.
As she tries desperately to open the alabaster jar to anoint his feet , she realizes that his feet are already wet with her tears. Embarrassed she looks futily for a towel. Seeing none she takes down her long hair and begins to dry Jesus' feet with her hair. Of course, in their culture women always wore their hair up. Only a whore would take down her hair in the presence of men other than her husband. Knowing that she had tried her best and had failed miserably, she brought her head down and rested her face against his feet in utter failure. She kissed his feet, over and over again, until mercifully she managed to open the expensive bottle of ointment and began spreading it on his feet.
As she sat in a puddle of her own tears and saliva, with oil on her hands and throughout her mop of hair - she probably felt like the biggest failure in the whole world. Her panicked expression gave voice to her innermost thoughts – “why did I just do what I have done.”
We're completely unrealistic in how we map out our social interactions. We swear that we won't lose our temper. We plan a cautious dialogue and remind ourselves to keep a stiff upper lip. In the heat of the moment the gloves come off and we begin yelling. We say hurtful things we wish we could take back and we leave with tears in our eyes and acid in our throats.
For all of this woman's efforts to plan a casual, collected anointing of Jesus she failed miserably. She came off looking like a basket case whore - and as the room grew silent with the Pharisees' outrage she realized that that … was … exactly who she was.
Now the Pharisee had secretly hoped that Jesus was all he was cracked up to be. He had hoped that Jesus would prove to be a prophet after all. But as the disgusting, disease ridden prostitute but her lips on Jesus, the Pharisee decided that clearly Jesus was no prophet.
A prophet would know who this woman was. A prophet would know her despicable past and would respond accordingly.
But Jesus is so much more than a prophet. Not only did Jesus know the despicable past of the woman touching his feet, but he knew her beautiful future.
He knew the righteous woman of God she would become. He knew her present anguish in the face of her accusers and He knew the joy she would possess as she shared the good news with others.
[[Jesus breaks the silence by sharing a story of two men whose debt had been forgiven. The Pharisee must admit that the one whose debt had been larger would be more thankful for its relief.]] - - - I'm going to have someone read this parable out loud - or bring two people up to act it out.
Because this woman had been forgiven much, she will love much.
Jesus stands this woman up and assures her that her sins - her numerous, incalculable sins - have been forgiven.
And perhaps, after all that has transpired in this little dinner, this is the most shocking event for those gathered together. In these simple words Jesus claims his full divinity. Only God can forgive sins - and in this story we see God forgiving sins. The men gathered around the table that day witnessed God forgive sins.
I don't really know all of you. I don't know where you've been or how far you've gone. I'll never stand at a podium and decry others for their moral or sexual failures.
I won't go into details of my own sins, but I will say that I love much because I have been forgiven much.
When we look at ourselves we tend to dwell on the past. Our dark pasts seem to overshadow any hint of a future that lies on our horizon. We are not God. For God sees our hope and our future. God sees the promise of redemption in our sinful past.
Henri Nouwen shares the story (which I can’t find and might very well be butchering) of a woman who claimed to be able to speak with Jesus while she slept. A priest at her church wanted at least a shred of proof. He told her to ask Jesus, the next time she “talked with him” what he had confessed during his last confession.
Clearly this woman wouldn’t know the deepest darkest sins of the priest and she would be caught in her lie. The next day she came back with the answer she had received from Jesus. “I don’t remember.”
We truly believe that when our sins have been forgiven by Jesus Christ that He keeps no record of our wrongs. There is no secret list of dirty deeds that God keeps to remind us of our failures. We keep that list (and the devil keeps one for us as well ) and Jesus wishes that we didn’t.
Satan would love to keep you paralyzed by the reality of your past sins. Jesus wants to set you free – that you could live out your future and hope.
As Jesus said to the sinful woman anointing his feet – I know say the same to you.
Your faith has saved you. Go in Peace.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
In English we have many polite euphemisms for "sinful woman." I didn't use any of them. The adjectives I used are somewhat harsh and that is intentional. Too often we speak as though Christians are afraid of sinful people - I don't believe we should be. As followers of Jesus we should be more than capable of addressing sin head on, without the use of euphemism.
Now one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, so he went to the Pharisee's house and reclined at the table. When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee's house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner."
Jesus answered him, "Simon, I have something to tell you."
"Tell me, teacher," he said.
"Two men owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?"
Simon replied, "I suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled."
"You have judged correctly," Jesus said.
Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 47Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little."
Then Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."
The other guests began to say among themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?"
Jesus said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
Our story picks up not too far from where we ended last week. Jesus entered the city of Nain and quickly made a name for himself by raising a young man back to life. A religious leader, a Pharisee, wants to dig deeper. He wants more facts before he makes his judgement call. Like Simon Cowell on American Idol - he just wants to hear a few more notes to decide if this person is the real deal or a sham.
You have to admit, it's all pretty fantastic. Jesus shows up out of nowhere and before he even says hello he stops a funeral parade to give a widow-woman her life back. So this Pharisee invites Jesus to his home so that he can get the rest of the story. He's not overly concerned with showing Jesus hospitality - he'll ask questions first and figure out if Jesus deserves to be treated like an honored guest.
Now last week we talked about a woman for whom everything had been taken. Today we look to a woman who gave it all up willingly. The widow woman didn't choose for her son to die. She didn't choose to lose everything. The woman today, arguably, made such a choice. She was known primarily by the sins she chose to commit. She chose to make her living on her back, and while most of the world would find sympathy for the widow - who cares about a prostitute?
Jesus shows up at the home of the Pharisee and is treated a little poorly. Jesus was a radical person, more or less homeless who entered cities and began teaching things that people had never heard before. He was probably used to being treated as less than the honored guest. Jesus was full of humility and took everything in stride. His own teaching was to sit at the place of least honor and wait to be brought to the seat of honor.
Jesus was probably sitting at a place of little honor, far from the host. If his hands had been washed at all, he was probably last after the water was already dirtied by several other more honored guests.
And then this woman enters through the open door. She is in all things, a contrast to the Pharisee hosting the dinner.
He is educated and respected. She is known to the whole community as the whore she is. He's righteous and faithful. She's slept with more people than she can remember.
The Pharisee is calm, cool, and collected. The woman is emotional and overwhelmingly forward. As a child he received an excellent education in the scriptures and old women would speak of the bright future he surely had. As a child she had been passed between male relatives or friends of her brothers.
These two would never be seen in public together.
She enters through the open door and immediately sees the One who can heal her heart and forgive her of her sins. Jesus was reclining at the table. In middle eastern cultures, you always sit with the flats of your feet facing out.
Feet are dirty and disgusting things. In some countries, showing the flats of your feet to someone is extremely rude. This was why it was shocking when Jesus had begun washing the feet of his disciples. Only the lowliest slave would wash feet - and apparently our Pharisee host thought that none of his slaves were lowely enough to bother to wash Jesus' feet, because by the time the woman entered Jesus' feet were still unwashed.
This emotional basket case of a woman rushes in and falls on the floor behind Jesus. She isn't even worthy for Jesus to see her face. She was a bad person. Where do you think she got the money for the expensive ointment in the alabaster jar? She earned her money pulling tricks and apparently she was quite good at her profession.
As she tries desperately to open the alabaster jar to anoint his feet , she realizes that his feet are already wet with her tears. Embarrassed she looks futily for a towel. Seeing none she takes down her long hair and begins to dry Jesus' feet with her hair. Of course, in their culture women always wore their hair up. Only a whore would take down her hair in the presence of men other than her husband. Knowing that she had tried her best and had failed miserably, she brought her head down and rested her face against his feet in utter failure. She kissed his feet, over and over again, until mercifully she managed to open the expensive bottle of ointment and began spreading it on his feet.
As she sat in a puddle of her own tears and saliva, with oil on her hands and throughout her mop of hair - she probably felt like the biggest failure in the whole world. Her panicked expression gave voice to her innermost thoughts – “why did I just do what I have done.”
We're completely unrealistic in how we map out our social interactions. We swear that we won't lose our temper. We plan a cautious dialogue and remind ourselves to keep a stiff upper lip. In the heat of the moment the gloves come off and we begin yelling. We say hurtful things we wish we could take back and we leave with tears in our eyes and acid in our throats.
For all of this woman's efforts to plan a casual, collected anointing of Jesus she failed miserably. She came off looking like a basket case whore - and as the room grew silent with the Pharisees' outrage she realized that that … was … exactly who she was.
Now the Pharisee had secretly hoped that Jesus was all he was cracked up to be. He had hoped that Jesus would prove to be a prophet after all. But as the disgusting, disease ridden prostitute but her lips on Jesus, the Pharisee decided that clearly Jesus was no prophet.
A prophet would know who this woman was. A prophet would know her despicable past and would respond accordingly.
But Jesus is so much more than a prophet. Not only did Jesus know the despicable past of the woman touching his feet, but he knew her beautiful future.
He knew the righteous woman of God she would become. He knew her present anguish in the face of her accusers and He knew the joy she would possess as she shared the good news with others.
[[Jesus breaks the silence by sharing a story of two men whose debt had been forgiven. The Pharisee must admit that the one whose debt had been larger would be more thankful for its relief.]] - - - I'm going to have someone read this parable out loud - or bring two people up to act it out.
Because this woman had been forgiven much, she will love much.
Jesus stands this woman up and assures her that her sins - her numerous, incalculable sins - have been forgiven.
And perhaps, after all that has transpired in this little dinner, this is the most shocking event for those gathered together. In these simple words Jesus claims his full divinity. Only God can forgive sins - and in this story we see God forgiving sins. The men gathered around the table that day witnessed God forgive sins.
I don't really know all of you. I don't know where you've been or how far you've gone. I'll never stand at a podium and decry others for their moral or sexual failures.
I won't go into details of my own sins, but I will say that I love much because I have been forgiven much.
When we look at ourselves we tend to dwell on the past. Our dark pasts seem to overshadow any hint of a future that lies on our horizon. We are not God. For God sees our hope and our future. God sees the promise of redemption in our sinful past.
Henri Nouwen shares the story (which I can’t find and might very well be butchering) of a woman who claimed to be able to speak with Jesus while she slept. A priest at her church wanted at least a shred of proof. He told her to ask Jesus, the next time she “talked with him” what he had confessed during his last confession.
Clearly this woman wouldn’t know the deepest darkest sins of the priest and she would be caught in her lie. The next day she came back with the answer she had received from Jesus. “I don’t remember.”
We truly believe that when our sins have been forgiven by Jesus Christ that He keeps no record of our wrongs. There is no secret list of dirty deeds that God keeps to remind us of our failures. We keep that list (and the devil keeps one for us as well ) and Jesus wishes that we didn’t.
Satan would love to keep you paralyzed by the reality of your past sins. Jesus wants to set you free – that you could live out your future and hope.
As Jesus said to the sinful woman anointing his feet – I know say the same to you.
Your faith has saved you. Go in Peace.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
The real sermon #4
Ok, I've gone back and forth a number of times about what to preach this Thursday. This is the third sermon I've written this week ... and I think it's the one I'm actually going to preach.
Luke 7:11-17 (Today's New International Version)
Jesus Raises a Widow's Son
Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."
Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.
They were all filled with awe and praised God. "A great prophet has appeared among us," they said. "God has come to help his people." This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country.
Some days we need to hear a tale of resurrection. Perhaps this is one of those days for you. If your soul is heavy, your heart is troubled, or your mind is tired – listen up. If everything’s perfect for you … well, I’ll try and work something in for you, too.
Almost everyone has lost someone close. Most of us have attended a funeral or mourned the loss of a relative.
When I was 8 years old my aunt died. By that age I had been to more than a dozen funerals and I knew the routine very well. Once I attended a funeral as a toddler. My mischievous Uncle gave me a wallet and showed me how to open it up and beg like a street beggar. I was a cute kid and came home with a nice chunk of cash.
When my aunt died, everything was different. I was old enough to really understand. I knew what had happened, I knew what death was – and I hated it.
The scripture today focuses on the widow of Nain. As the Bible describes her as a widow we know that she had already lost a husband. As Jesus enters her city, her only son is on the slab and about to be buried. Her culture treated widows terribly. A widow could inherit her husband’s property if she had children to take care of. If she had no children, her property would go back to her husband’s family. She would be left with nothing. No house, no income, no family, and no prospect for future love. No one would demean themselves to marry a widow. This woman had truly lost everything.
Sometimes in life it feels as though we have lost everything. When relationships come crashing down, while waiting on a diagnosis from a hospital, after failing a class, when we hear of an accident, or simply when a day has been too long and there hasn’t been enough sunshine.
At one point in my life;I had given up my job and my job security, I had no home of my own, my family was on the other side of the world, my friends were all on vacation enjoying the seaside, I became sick and had no one to take care of me, and then I got the phone call. One of my closest friends explained that he had cancer. It would more than likely prove to be fatal – doctors discussed his life in measurable quantities. Weeks, months, or years. I felt my world crash that day. I needed a resurrection story.
When Jesus saw this pitiable woman he approached her and said, “Don’t cry.” He walked over to her dead son and beckoned him to rise once more. The boy sat up and began speaking. Jesus gave him back to his mother.
This is a story of healing. Jesus physically healed this man by bringing him back to life. But this story is also one of spiritual, emotional, and social healing. Jesus restored life for this young boy – but he restored EVERYTHING for this woman.
When the people around Jesus saw this miracle they began to rejoice. Suddenly this stranger became their savior. He was automatically a prophet and God. This was wonderful. But sometimes we experience the opposite. When God fails to perform the miracle we demand, we turn our back. We cry and curse God for the failure.
The death of my aunt was especially painful because I had prayed for a miracle. I had prayed that she would be healed and she wasn’t. My magic genie Jesus failed to deliver and I was angry.
When we hear this story, I hope you think of the widow woman. She had lost everything – and Jesus gave it all back to her … and then some.
This body – this useless shell of a body – will pass away. When my friend Jonathan dies (and I really do pray that he will die decades from now, after years of us sitting together on a porch being cranky old men yelling at the neighborhood kids) we will rejoice in his obedience to God. We will rejoice that God restored him.
The healing in this story, and in mine, is so much more than a physical healing. “This story shows that healing is not simply about curing illness or raising the dead; it is about redeeming the entirety of human life in relationship with God.”
Because of the resurrection of Jesus, our lives are redeemed.
WE are the resurrection story.
When life is too hard and you need a resurrection story, look around at the people in this room. Look at the people who have been redeemed by the words of Jesus. Look to those who were spiritually dead until Jesus said, “Get up!”
And remember in all of your days, that when those around you are having a rough day – you are the resurrection story they need to hear.
This story is a beautiful reminder that we serve a God who heals. God still restores people, he raises the dead, and he cures the sick. And he uses us to do it. Pope John XXIII said, "Consult not your fears, but your hopes and dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what is still possible for you to do." The mistakes you have made don’t matter. God doesn’t view the forgiven sins and failures of yesterday – he sees the hope and future of tomorrow. God has a plan for you to help restore the people around you.
If you allow it, God will use your resurrection story to restore others. Go forth this day, and live life in such a way that those watching will be amazed at the Jesus who has raised you back to life.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Luke 7:11-17 (Today's New International Version)
Jesus Raises a Widow's Son
Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."
Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.
They were all filled with awe and praised God. "A great prophet has appeared among us," they said. "God has come to help his people." This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country.
Some days we need to hear a tale of resurrection. Perhaps this is one of those days for you. If your soul is heavy, your heart is troubled, or your mind is tired – listen up. If everything’s perfect for you … well, I’ll try and work something in for you, too.
Almost everyone has lost someone close. Most of us have attended a funeral or mourned the loss of a relative.
When I was 8 years old my aunt died. By that age I had been to more than a dozen funerals and I knew the routine very well. Once I attended a funeral as a toddler. My mischievous Uncle gave me a wallet and showed me how to open it up and beg like a street beggar. I was a cute kid and came home with a nice chunk of cash.
When my aunt died, everything was different. I was old enough to really understand. I knew what had happened, I knew what death was – and I hated it.
The scripture today focuses on the widow of Nain. As the Bible describes her as a widow we know that she had already lost a husband. As Jesus enters her city, her only son is on the slab and about to be buried. Her culture treated widows terribly. A widow could inherit her husband’s property if she had children to take care of. If she had no children, her property would go back to her husband’s family. She would be left with nothing. No house, no income, no family, and no prospect for future love. No one would demean themselves to marry a widow. This woman had truly lost everything.
Sometimes in life it feels as though we have lost everything. When relationships come crashing down, while waiting on a diagnosis from a hospital, after failing a class, when we hear of an accident, or simply when a day has been too long and there hasn’t been enough sunshine.
At one point in my life;I had given up my job and my job security, I had no home of my own, my family was on the other side of the world, my friends were all on vacation enjoying the seaside, I became sick and had no one to take care of me, and then I got the phone call. One of my closest friends explained that he had cancer. It would more than likely prove to be fatal – doctors discussed his life in measurable quantities. Weeks, months, or years. I felt my world crash that day. I needed a resurrection story.
When Jesus saw this pitiable woman he approached her and said, “Don’t cry.” He walked over to her dead son and beckoned him to rise once more. The boy sat up and began speaking. Jesus gave him back to his mother.
This is a story of healing. Jesus physically healed this man by bringing him back to life. But this story is also one of spiritual, emotional, and social healing. Jesus restored life for this young boy – but he restored EVERYTHING for this woman.
When the people around Jesus saw this miracle they began to rejoice. Suddenly this stranger became their savior. He was automatically a prophet and God. This was wonderful. But sometimes we experience the opposite. When God fails to perform the miracle we demand, we turn our back. We cry and curse God for the failure.
The death of my aunt was especially painful because I had prayed for a miracle. I had prayed that she would be healed and she wasn’t. My magic genie Jesus failed to deliver and I was angry.
When we hear this story, I hope you think of the widow woman. She had lost everything – and Jesus gave it all back to her … and then some.
This body – this useless shell of a body – will pass away. When my friend Jonathan dies (and I really do pray that he will die decades from now, after years of us sitting together on a porch being cranky old men yelling at the neighborhood kids) we will rejoice in his obedience to God. We will rejoice that God restored him.
The healing in this story, and in mine, is so much more than a physical healing. “This story shows that healing is not simply about curing illness or raising the dead; it is about redeeming the entirety of human life in relationship with God.”
Because of the resurrection of Jesus, our lives are redeemed.
WE are the resurrection story.
When life is too hard and you need a resurrection story, look around at the people in this room. Look at the people who have been redeemed by the words of Jesus. Look to those who were spiritually dead until Jesus said, “Get up!”
And remember in all of your days, that when those around you are having a rough day – you are the resurrection story they need to hear.
This story is a beautiful reminder that we serve a God who heals. God still restores people, he raises the dead, and he cures the sick. And he uses us to do it. Pope John XXIII said, "Consult not your fears, but your hopes and dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what is still possible for you to do." The mistakes you have made don’t matter. God doesn’t view the forgiven sins and failures of yesterday – he sees the hope and future of tomorrow. God has a plan for you to help restore the people around you.
If you allow it, God will use your resurrection story to restore others. Go forth this day, and live life in such a way that those watching will be amazed at the Jesus who has raised you back to life.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Sermon 4
So, I didn't actually mean to post this. If you read this yesterday you read a rough draft. It's still not ready - I'll probably work on it a few hours tomorrow and Thursday - I might post an updated sermon before or after Pilgrims.
38As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
We enter into a situation of sibling rivalry in our story today. We find ourselves with Jesus seeing an all too common side of human life. There were other sibling rivalries in the Bible – Cain and Able, Jacob and Esau – and they didn’t end so well. We enter the lives and we think we know the story – we think we have lived this story.
My sister and I are four years apart. When we were in school my sister was perfect. I say this not out of spite or in exaggeration, but simply as a fact. It’s ___________ outside today and my sister was perfect. My sister was a natural leader and an obvious teacher’s pet. She would grow up to be a doctor, and her academic resume reflect her future career path. She visited teaching hospitals throughout High School and sang and played her instrument in regional competitions.
I was not perfect. I was awkwardly shaped and couldn’t do many things well. I wasn’t a leader. I didn’t like school and my teachers knew it. I didn’t play an instrument well and I didn’t sing well yet. I did my own thing. I was artsy and thought outside of the box.
It was sometimes a miserable experience to grow up in the shadow of my big sister. I can’t count the times teachers explained to me how much smarter my sister was and how much better she was.
When I read today’s story I immediately tense up. He visited “Martha’s home.” Not the home of Mary and Martha … or even the home of Martha and Mary … but the home of Martha.
Mary was an afterthought. Mary could never measure up to her big sister. Perhaps she was a little lazy and maybe not as bright or put together as her sister.
Maybe Mary was all of these things – but she had her priorities straight. When she was interested or intrigued she followed her gut. When Jesus of Nazareth came through Mary realized that the dishes in the sink didn’t matter.
Jesus had just come from teaching. He had been out and about and a religious leader asks “Who is my neighbor.” He tells the story of the good samaritan. In the familiar story, 3 good people pass by one of their own and only the last, a political enemy stops to help the injured man.
The question is aked - who is my neighbor? Whom do I have to love? And Jesus resoundly answers … EVERYONE.
And in this setting, the all too familiar setting of sibling rivalry, the question is posed again - whom do I have to love? EVERYONE, even your sister. How often do I have to love? ALWAYS.
As a Christian, I need to love everyone. Even my perfect sister.
They say that sharing your faith with a family member is hardest. Witnessing to a stranger on the street is SO much easier than telling a family member that Jesus loves them. I think that Christians sometimes do street evangelism because they’re too scared to share real life with people.
I was taught once that if you have a hard time telling others about Jesus that you should look at yourself in the mirror. Say, Michael, I love you, and Jesus does too.
The gospel transitions from one setting to another. Whom do I have to love? A political enemy and a perfect sibling. How often do I have to love? Always.
I always read this story as though Martha finally got what she had coming. Final vindication for all the awards and diplomas my sister had earned.
I read the story wrong.
Jesus isn’t putting Martha down – he’s lifting Mary up. He’s teaching them to love one another and making them equals. I believe he’s teaching Martha to learn from Mary and Mary to learn from Martha. He’s teaching them to not jockey for position as leader; but to walk side by side – hand in hand as friends.
We see these sisters later on in the Jesus narrative and they are described as inseparable friends. They learned their lesson and began to love one another.
In college my sister stopped being so perfect and I grew up a whole bunch. Jesus has taught us to learn from each other and to walk side by side. I’m not in my sister’s shadow and she’s not in mine.
Some people see this story as an admonition that it’s better to sing praise hymns than to wash dishes. I don’t believe this is the case. Jesus commends Mary because she has lovingly accepted her sister for who she is. We all show love in different ways – Martha showed love by preparing the house and Mary showed loved by sitting and listening to Jesus – but Mary showed love to her sister by humbly accepting Martha’s show of love.
When we love others we accept who they are. We love our roommates even though they snore at night. We love our friends even though they do so many weird things. We love our families even though they are a little crazy. We love our sister even though she’s perfect.
This is the essence of the Gospel message. Love God, Love others. Love your brother, love a commie pinko, hug a hippy, share a meal with a stranger, live with less and give the rest away, worship God daily. This is the core of the message.
Do you know that you are the Gospel? You are the good news of Jesus Christ living in a sad world hungry for something more. Our lives open the Bible to thousands who will never crack the cover. To a hungry man, bread is good news. To a world that has never experienced unconditional love, your kindness is good news. You are the Gospel. You are the proof that Jesus rose from the dead 2000 years ago. Your life of loving service proves His divinity.
Go into all the world and love – even when it’s hard.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
38As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
We enter into a situation of sibling rivalry in our story today. We find ourselves with Jesus seeing an all too common side of human life. There were other sibling rivalries in the Bible – Cain and Able, Jacob and Esau – and they didn’t end so well. We enter the lives and we think we know the story – we think we have lived this story.
My sister and I are four years apart. When we were in school my sister was perfect. I say this not out of spite or in exaggeration, but simply as a fact. It’s ___________ outside today and my sister was perfect. My sister was a natural leader and an obvious teacher’s pet. She would grow up to be a doctor, and her academic resume reflect her future career path. She visited teaching hospitals throughout High School and sang and played her instrument in regional competitions.
I was not perfect. I was awkwardly shaped and couldn’t do many things well. I wasn’t a leader. I didn’t like school and my teachers knew it. I didn’t play an instrument well and I didn’t sing well yet. I did my own thing. I was artsy and thought outside of the box.
It was sometimes a miserable experience to grow up in the shadow of my big sister. I can’t count the times teachers explained to me how much smarter my sister was and how much better she was.
When I read today’s story I immediately tense up. He visited “Martha’s home.” Not the home of Mary and Martha … or even the home of Martha and Mary … but the home of Martha.
Mary was an afterthought. Mary could never measure up to her big sister. Perhaps she was a little lazy and maybe not as bright or put together as her sister.
Maybe Mary was all of these things – but she had her priorities straight. When she was interested or intrigued she followed her gut. When Jesus of Nazareth came through Mary realized that the dishes in the sink didn’t matter.
Jesus had just come from teaching. He had been out and about and a religious leader asks “Who is my neighbor.” He tells the story of the good samaritan. In the familiar story, 3 good people pass by one of their own and only the last, a political enemy stops to help the injured man.
The question is aked - who is my neighbor? Whom do I have to love? And Jesus resoundly answers … EVERYONE.
And in this setting, the all too familiar setting of sibling rivalry, the question is posed again - whom do I have to love? EVERYONE, even your sister. How often do I have to love? ALWAYS.
As a Christian, I need to love everyone. Even my perfect sister.
They say that sharing your faith with a family member is hardest. Witnessing to a stranger on the street is SO much easier than telling a family member that Jesus loves them. I think that Christians sometimes do street evangelism because they’re too scared to share real life with people.
I was taught once that if you have a hard time telling others about Jesus that you should look at yourself in the mirror. Say, Michael, I love you, and Jesus does too.
The gospel transitions from one setting to another. Whom do I have to love? A political enemy and a perfect sibling. How often do I have to love? Always.
I always read this story as though Martha finally got what she had coming. Final vindication for all the awards and diplomas my sister had earned.
I read the story wrong.
Jesus isn’t putting Martha down – he’s lifting Mary up. He’s teaching them to love one another and making them equals. I believe he’s teaching Martha to learn from Mary and Mary to learn from Martha. He’s teaching them to not jockey for position as leader; but to walk side by side – hand in hand as friends.
We see these sisters later on in the Jesus narrative and they are described as inseparable friends. They learned their lesson and began to love one another.
In college my sister stopped being so perfect and I grew up a whole bunch. Jesus has taught us to learn from each other and to walk side by side. I’m not in my sister’s shadow and she’s not in mine.
Some people see this story as an admonition that it’s better to sing praise hymns than to wash dishes. I don’t believe this is the case. Jesus commends Mary because she has lovingly accepted her sister for who she is. We all show love in different ways – Martha showed love by preparing the house and Mary showed loved by sitting and listening to Jesus – but Mary showed love to her sister by humbly accepting Martha’s show of love.
When we love others we accept who they are. We love our roommates even though they snore at night. We love our friends even though they do so many weird things. We love our families even though they are a little crazy. We love our sister even though she’s perfect.
This is the essence of the Gospel message. Love God, Love others. Love your brother, love a commie pinko, hug a hippy, share a meal with a stranger, live with less and give the rest away, worship God daily. This is the core of the message.
Do you know that you are the Gospel? You are the good news of Jesus Christ living in a sad world hungry for something more. Our lives open the Bible to thousands who will never crack the cover. To a hungry man, bread is good news. To a world that has never experienced unconditional love, your kindness is good news. You are the Gospel. You are the proof that Jesus rose from the dead 2000 years ago. Your life of loving service proves His divinity.
Go into all the world and love – even when it’s hard.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Sermon # 3
Apparently no one is posting these days. Haha. Sorry for the absenteeism.
This is the sermon I preached last Thursday at Pilgrims. We had 36 people, some were sitting in the other room craning their necks to see into the worship room. When I began chopping up the scheduler (you'll get to that part) there were panicked gasps - which is exactly the reaction I was hoping for.
Luke 9:11-17 (New International Version)
11but the crowds learned about it and followed him. He welcomed them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed healing.
12Late in the afternoon the Twelve came to him and said, "Send the crowd away so they can go to the surrounding villages and countryside and find food and lodging, because we are in a remote place here."
13He replied, "You give them something to eat."
They answered, "We have only five loaves of bread and two fish—unless we go and buy food for all this crowd." 14(About five thousand men were there.)
But he said to his disciples, "Have them sit down in groups of about fifty each." 15The disciples did so, and everybody sat down.16Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke them. Then he gave them to the disciples to set before the people. 17They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.
Today we share in the story of a familiar miracle. Huge crowds form to hang on every word of Jesus of Nazareth and Jesus is intent on feeding them.
With limited financial resources; the more pragmatic disciples fully realized that feeding a crowd this large would be impossible.
Feeding people is no easy task – and the larger the crowd the more difficult it is. While the people listen intently to the words of Jesus, their stomachs begin to grumble and something must happen. So when Jesus’ disciples are confronted with the task of feeding 5000 men along with their wives and children – they simply take the pragmatic approach and ask their teacher to send them away. “Let them go to the nearest villages and find dinner and a good place to sleep.”
But Jesus looks at the 12 men who had given up everything to follow Him – the 12 ordinary men who had left jobs, families, and friends to follow this Jesus of Nazareth – and He tells them, “You feed them.”
Get creative.
Figure it out.
This is your responsibility.
So the disciples start trying to figure out a way to solve this problem. They start figuring up just how much it will cost only to discover that it would take a whole year’s wage to feed this crowd.
And then a small child steps forward and opens up his lunchbox containing two fish and five loaves.
Sometimes pictures show two giant deep sea fish and five large batons of French bread. This was probably not the case. The meal provided was the daily lunch of a small boy – the scraps his mother had thrown together that morning to send him off with to hear this new teacher.
-Bring out two sardines and 5 rolls-
This is probably the meal brought to the attention of the disciples – this is probably the meal that they showed to Jesus. This laughable little snack was probably it.
Obviously a miracle would be needed for this small meal to feed such a large crowd – but a miracle had already happened.
God had performed the first miracle in the heart of the young boy. This young lad had decided that the needs of those around him were more important than his own. No small miracle, indeed.
Children are better at this than grownups. They’re better at not dismissing ideas. Adults are all too good at dismissing a new idea because, “we’ve never done it that way,” or “that’s just not how things work” or “my contribution is just too small.” With 5000 thousand men – some with their wives and children – do you really think that no one had thought to bring food? Others had food, but they quickly dismissed the idea of sharing:
I don’t have enough to make a difference
If I give up my food who will provide for me?
The others should have thought to bring some food.
But this little boy had a grand idea:
I could share my food with those around me!
There is this wonderful recklessness in the words and actions of this young boy.
This is the first miracle. A small boy shows reckless generosity.
Jesus takes this small offering and holds it up to heaven and thanks God for it. He has the people sit down into groups of 50 and has the disciples start passing out the food.
Ok … so 100 groups of 50 people – so I have to split this food up into 100 pieces. [Bring out cutting board and knife and start chopping.]
There is this wonderful recklessness in the actions of Jesus and the twelve. They all start passing out these meager portions with the full knowledge that God will take care of the rest. And God does.
The second miracle happens in the hearts of those sharing the meal. Men, women, and children start pulling out their own meager meals and begin to share with those around them. Inspired by the recklessness of this young boy and the faith of Jesus and the 12 they take the next step and decide to share.
And the third miracle is that God multiplies the food that has been offered up so that it is enough to feed the multitude and to have much left over.
This is just how things work in the Kingdom of God.
There is a problem.
Christians see a solution that others might think laughable.
The followers of Jesus give recklessly, the others are inspired and God takes care of the rest.
We are not a huge crowd. We are not hungry. We are well fed and not particularly poor. So how does this story apply to us?
Well, what are we short of? What do we need more of?
Time.
We don’t have enough time. We share panicked glances as we are asked to do “just one more thing.” As our course papers pile up and the threat of never-ending finals looms over our heads we find ourselves at a loss for time.
We as a community are gathered together, we hear the teachings of Jesus, but we quietly check the clock. We look at our wristwatches or cell phones to see how much time we have before our next activity. We realize that something must happen.
Today I wonder, who will be like the small boy? Who will step up with his or her calendar and say, “I don’t have much time, but it’s yours, God.” Who will give their meager portion to Jesus?
- Bring out scheduler –
Like the small boy, the first miracle we need is the courage to be reckless. Instead of selfishly holding on to every second, we must have the courage to recklessly offer our time to others. Call up a friend and drink some tea at the student center, spend an hour in the prayer corner, or spend some extra time cleaning around your house to improve things for your family or roommates.
The second miracle will happen in the lives of the others who are led by your example. If we give generously of our time and others see how much it reduces our stress, perhaps they will want to follow our lead. When we recklessly begin sharing our time with others, they will see the joy we find in this and will follow our lead.
- Begin cutting up scheduler –
And the third miracle will be when you begin to see your time multiplying. When we take a step back from our schedule, we might realize that if we organized our time better and planned more effectively that we have more time than we ever realized. As a group, we might see that we have baskets full of time left over.
We might, maybe, perhaps …. These things will only happen if we are wiling to follow the example of the young boy. These events are conditional, depending on our hearts and our actions.
This week I challenge you to step up with your small portion of time and offer it to God. You shouldn’t be surprised when God blesses your sacrifice by multiplying your time.
If you think you don't have enough time to do all things you need to do, remember this little snack and the 5,000 people it fed.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
This is the sermon I preached last Thursday at Pilgrims. We had 36 people, some were sitting in the other room craning their necks to see into the worship room. When I began chopping up the scheduler (you'll get to that part) there were panicked gasps - which is exactly the reaction I was hoping for.
Luke 9:11-17 (New International Version)
11but the crowds learned about it and followed him. He welcomed them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed healing.
12Late in the afternoon the Twelve came to him and said, "Send the crowd away so they can go to the surrounding villages and countryside and find food and lodging, because we are in a remote place here."
13He replied, "You give them something to eat."
They answered, "We have only five loaves of bread and two fish—unless we go and buy food for all this crowd." 14(About five thousand men were there.)
But he said to his disciples, "Have them sit down in groups of about fifty each." 15The disciples did so, and everybody sat down.16Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke them. Then he gave them to the disciples to set before the people. 17They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.
Today we share in the story of a familiar miracle. Huge crowds form to hang on every word of Jesus of Nazareth and Jesus is intent on feeding them.
With limited financial resources; the more pragmatic disciples fully realized that feeding a crowd this large would be impossible.
Feeding people is no easy task – and the larger the crowd the more difficult it is. While the people listen intently to the words of Jesus, their stomachs begin to grumble and something must happen. So when Jesus’ disciples are confronted with the task of feeding 5000 men along with their wives and children – they simply take the pragmatic approach and ask their teacher to send them away. “Let them go to the nearest villages and find dinner and a good place to sleep.”
But Jesus looks at the 12 men who had given up everything to follow Him – the 12 ordinary men who had left jobs, families, and friends to follow this Jesus of Nazareth – and He tells them, “You feed them.”
Get creative.
Figure it out.
This is your responsibility.
So the disciples start trying to figure out a way to solve this problem. They start figuring up just how much it will cost only to discover that it would take a whole year’s wage to feed this crowd.
And then a small child steps forward and opens up his lunchbox containing two fish and five loaves.
Sometimes pictures show two giant deep sea fish and five large batons of French bread. This was probably not the case. The meal provided was the daily lunch of a small boy – the scraps his mother had thrown together that morning to send him off with to hear this new teacher.
-Bring out two sardines and 5 rolls-
This is probably the meal brought to the attention of the disciples – this is probably the meal that they showed to Jesus. This laughable little snack was probably it.
Obviously a miracle would be needed for this small meal to feed such a large crowd – but a miracle had already happened.
God had performed the first miracle in the heart of the young boy. This young lad had decided that the needs of those around him were more important than his own. No small miracle, indeed.
Children are better at this than grownups. They’re better at not dismissing ideas. Adults are all too good at dismissing a new idea because, “we’ve never done it that way,” or “that’s just not how things work” or “my contribution is just too small.” With 5000 thousand men – some with their wives and children – do you really think that no one had thought to bring food? Others had food, but they quickly dismissed the idea of sharing:
I don’t have enough to make a difference
If I give up my food who will provide for me?
The others should have thought to bring some food.
But this little boy had a grand idea:
I could share my food with those around me!
There is this wonderful recklessness in the words and actions of this young boy.
This is the first miracle. A small boy shows reckless generosity.
Jesus takes this small offering and holds it up to heaven and thanks God for it. He has the people sit down into groups of 50 and has the disciples start passing out the food.
Ok … so 100 groups of 50 people – so I have to split this food up into 100 pieces. [Bring out cutting board and knife and start chopping.]
There is this wonderful recklessness in the actions of Jesus and the twelve. They all start passing out these meager portions with the full knowledge that God will take care of the rest. And God does.
The second miracle happens in the hearts of those sharing the meal. Men, women, and children start pulling out their own meager meals and begin to share with those around them. Inspired by the recklessness of this young boy and the faith of Jesus and the 12 they take the next step and decide to share.
And the third miracle is that God multiplies the food that has been offered up so that it is enough to feed the multitude and to have much left over.
This is just how things work in the Kingdom of God.
There is a problem.
Christians see a solution that others might think laughable.
The followers of Jesus give recklessly, the others are inspired and God takes care of the rest.
We are not a huge crowd. We are not hungry. We are well fed and not particularly poor. So how does this story apply to us?
Well, what are we short of? What do we need more of?
Time.
We don’t have enough time. We share panicked glances as we are asked to do “just one more thing.” As our course papers pile up and the threat of never-ending finals looms over our heads we find ourselves at a loss for time.
We as a community are gathered together, we hear the teachings of Jesus, but we quietly check the clock. We look at our wristwatches or cell phones to see how much time we have before our next activity. We realize that something must happen.
Today I wonder, who will be like the small boy? Who will step up with his or her calendar and say, “I don’t have much time, but it’s yours, God.” Who will give their meager portion to Jesus?
- Bring out scheduler –
Like the small boy, the first miracle we need is the courage to be reckless. Instead of selfishly holding on to every second, we must have the courage to recklessly offer our time to others. Call up a friend and drink some tea at the student center, spend an hour in the prayer corner, or spend some extra time cleaning around your house to improve things for your family or roommates.
The second miracle will happen in the lives of the others who are led by your example. If we give generously of our time and others see how much it reduces our stress, perhaps they will want to follow our lead. When we recklessly begin sharing our time with others, they will see the joy we find in this and will follow our lead.
- Begin cutting up scheduler –
And the third miracle will be when you begin to see your time multiplying. When we take a step back from our schedule, we might realize that if we organized our time better and planned more effectively that we have more time than we ever realized. As a group, we might see that we have baskets full of time left over.
We might, maybe, perhaps …. These things will only happen if we are wiling to follow the example of the young boy. These events are conditional, depending on our hearts and our actions.
This week I challenge you to step up with your small portion of time and offer it to God. You shouldn’t be surprised when God blesses your sacrifice by multiplying your time.
If you think you don't have enough time to do all things you need to do, remember this little snack and the 5,000 people it fed.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Insufficiency
I'm often reminded of the insufficiency of words to categorize God and our relationship with him ... her .. it ... God.
I once heard a preacherman ask a room full of texting, ipod weilding teenagers to "friend" Jesus. As in the facebookable verb; to add someone to a friend list. Once every few months I try to trim back the ever-expanding shrubbery of friend lists. I'm terribly afraid of hitting the 1,000 friend mark. I think the crushing reality of 1,000 friends and nothing to do on a Friday night would be too much for my fragile soul to handle.
So, have you "friended" Jesus? Like Hindu-Indians adding Jesus as another god to put on their mantle, have you included Jesus in your ever-expanding circle of influence? Have you allowed the Lord of Lords and King of Kings full access to view your pictures, wall, status updates, and favorite interests?
I'm not just picking on a pastor for creating (or, more likely, recycling) a terrible metaphore. I'm interested in how the me-generation views the very act of personal salvation in a world of social-networking. Our definitions have changed.
When my grandmother was young if she sat and wrote out her friends, there would probably be a dozen names on the list. These names probably included her family, neighbors, and relatives. And people at church. Probably her widest pool of friends was the social networking she experienced at church. Instead of being connected to a household, street, or playground she was connected to a hundred or more people. For a few hours once a week her social circle became too large to comfortably manage.
This morning I have connected with people on 3 continents (some in person, some on-line). I congratulated a dear friend in Russia on her wedding by posting on her wall, spoke on the telephone with a missionary in Mongolia, video-called my mother, watched a Ukrainian nationalist parade in L'viv, talked in person with a few students and sent out a half-dozen e-mails to people in Ukraine and America. I don't need Sunday morning worship to expand my social network - if anything I crave the comfort and safety of fewer, deeper authentic relationships when I worship. It has been over a year since I have worshipped with anyone sharing more than a few months history.
I don't want to "friend" Jesus - I want Jesus to save me from Facebook. More than another casual aquantaince I need an authentic savior. One who will lead me into true and lasting relationships to help me grow into the disciple I need to become.
Our words are insufficient, but increasingly our social constructs are also becoming insufficient. We don't have kings, lords, or fathers in our lives. Most people have never met a shepherd and fishermen are a distant concept or weekend hobbyists. Without a means of comparison, how will we know how to interact with Jesus?
Our words, and the structures they represent are wholly inadequate to help us comprehend Jesus.
I once heard a preacherman ask a room full of texting, ipod weilding teenagers to "friend" Jesus. As in the facebookable verb; to add someone to a friend list. Once every few months I try to trim back the ever-expanding shrubbery of friend lists. I'm terribly afraid of hitting the 1,000 friend mark. I think the crushing reality of 1,000 friends and nothing to do on a Friday night would be too much for my fragile soul to handle.
So, have you "friended" Jesus? Like Hindu-Indians adding Jesus as another god to put on their mantle, have you included Jesus in your ever-expanding circle of influence? Have you allowed the Lord of Lords and King of Kings full access to view your pictures, wall, status updates, and favorite interests?
I'm not just picking on a pastor for creating (or, more likely, recycling) a terrible metaphore. I'm interested in how the me-generation views the very act of personal salvation in a world of social-networking. Our definitions have changed.
When my grandmother was young if she sat and wrote out her friends, there would probably be a dozen names on the list. These names probably included her family, neighbors, and relatives. And people at church. Probably her widest pool of friends was the social networking she experienced at church. Instead of being connected to a household, street, or playground she was connected to a hundred or more people. For a few hours once a week her social circle became too large to comfortably manage.
This morning I have connected with people on 3 continents (some in person, some on-line). I congratulated a dear friend in Russia on her wedding by posting on her wall, spoke on the telephone with a missionary in Mongolia, video-called my mother, watched a Ukrainian nationalist parade in L'viv, talked in person with a few students and sent out a half-dozen e-mails to people in Ukraine and America. I don't need Sunday morning worship to expand my social network - if anything I crave the comfort and safety of fewer, deeper authentic relationships when I worship. It has been over a year since I have worshipped with anyone sharing more than a few months history.
I don't want to "friend" Jesus - I want Jesus to save me from Facebook. More than another casual aquantaince I need an authentic savior. One who will lead me into true and lasting relationships to help me grow into the disciple I need to become.
Our words are insufficient, but increasingly our social constructs are also becoming insufficient. We don't have kings, lords, or fathers in our lives. Most people have never met a shepherd and fishermen are a distant concept or weekend hobbyists. Without a means of comparison, how will we know how to interact with Jesus?
Our words, and the structures they represent are wholly inadequate to help us comprehend Jesus.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Full
Recently I have been hosting an English club once a week. While in East Asia we planned English lessons with the intent of introducing the students to good Christian concepts. We rejoiced when a handful of the students accepted Jesus as their savior after the lesson on the “American holiday” of Easter. When I first began planning English lessons for L’viv, I began with that model. But this approach rung hollow and tinny in this city of ancient cathedrals and war/famine/dictator tested faith. My greatest need was to reevaluate the Gospel message I wished to share.
Personal salvation is not the gospel. It is the stepping stone to the gospel. The gospel includes everything that comes after personal salvation. The gospel is the transformation of the world.
In a culture where everyone seems to scream "look at me!" all day* we have reduced the gospel to its opening act - the one aspect that deals entirely on the personal (me) level. Every other facet of the gospel throws the spotlight away from ourselves and onto God and others. We have managed to turn the good news of Jesus Christ and His transformation of the world into a selfish grasp for attention.
There is this beautiful video of my first Christmas. The camera zooms in on an adorable toddler holding an over sized box and dad says, "Michael is about to open his first Christmas present ever." Like a fuzzy big-foot sighting, my sister Rebecca screams, "Look what I can do!" as she jumps in front of the camera. -- We are the ones who jump into the viewfinder while Christ quietly works in the background.
It is altogether necessary for the survival and advancement of the church that it gets the gospel right - that we, in the words of Landa Cope, whole heartedly take the whole Gospel to the whole world. If churches cannot move beyond the level of personal commitment to the idea of deity - and into the realm of the Kingdom of God - they are doomed to a listless existence of self-preservation.
More and more, I'm convinced that the only message worthy of being preached in the name of Jesus Christ is "Change the World." But I wonder how long a person can really preach this message of “change the world?” Jesus preached the message for 3 years before they killed him for it. Either you preach and fail and then burn out – or you preach and succeed and they kill you for it. I don't see too many other realistic options.
This is our faith - the good news does not call people to choose heaven over hell, the Gospel calls us to choose Christ over ourselves, death over life, and reckless abandon over comfort.
If you think Jesus wants your home to have more bathrooms than people (and it's not functioning as a homeless shelter)then we haven't been reading the same accounts of the life and teachings of Jesus. Jesus wants your stuff to matter less every day and the homeless people to matter more.
I can no longer, in good faith, preach a message of personal salvation. In no way do I reject this idea - I believe fully that personal salvation is necessary - I simply believe it to be insufficient compared to the entirety of the Gospel. In order to be faithful to my call I can only preach "Change the World."
* Yes, I fully grasp the irony of complaining about the "me" generation from my personal blog - from which I write to make sure everyone knows what I think about everything.
Personal salvation is not the gospel. It is the stepping stone to the gospel. The gospel includes everything that comes after personal salvation. The gospel is the transformation of the world.
In a culture where everyone seems to scream "look at me!" all day* we have reduced the gospel to its opening act - the one aspect that deals entirely on the personal (me) level. Every other facet of the gospel throws the spotlight away from ourselves and onto God and others. We have managed to turn the good news of Jesus Christ and His transformation of the world into a selfish grasp for attention.
There is this beautiful video of my first Christmas. The camera zooms in on an adorable toddler holding an over sized box and dad says, "Michael is about to open his first Christmas present ever." Like a fuzzy big-foot sighting, my sister Rebecca screams, "Look what I can do!" as she jumps in front of the camera. -- We are the ones who jump into the viewfinder while Christ quietly works in the background.
It is altogether necessary for the survival and advancement of the church that it gets the gospel right - that we, in the words of Landa Cope, whole heartedly take the whole Gospel to the whole world. If churches cannot move beyond the level of personal commitment to the idea of deity - and into the realm of the Kingdom of God - they are doomed to a listless existence of self-preservation.
More and more, I'm convinced that the only message worthy of being preached in the name of Jesus Christ is "Change the World." But I wonder how long a person can really preach this message of “change the world?” Jesus preached the message for 3 years before they killed him for it. Either you preach and fail and then burn out – or you preach and succeed and they kill you for it. I don't see too many other realistic options.
This is our faith - the good news does not call people to choose heaven over hell, the Gospel calls us to choose Christ over ourselves, death over life, and reckless abandon over comfort.
If you think Jesus wants your home to have more bathrooms than people (and it's not functioning as a homeless shelter)then we haven't been reading the same accounts of the life and teachings of Jesus. Jesus wants your stuff to matter less every day and the homeless people to matter more.
I can no longer, in good faith, preach a message of personal salvation. In no way do I reject this idea - I believe fully that personal salvation is necessary - I simply believe it to be insufficient compared to the entirety of the Gospel. In order to be faithful to my call I can only preach "Change the World."
* Yes, I fully grasp the irony of complaining about the "me" generation from my personal blog - from which I write to make sure everyone knows what I think about everything.
I think there must be a tremendous sadness in being a saint.
After the SS arrested Casper ten Boom they decided that he was too old - they would prefer he died in his own bed than have an extra body to dispose of. One soldier said, that he was quite old and asked, if they let him go, if he would behave. He responded, "If I go home today, tomorrow I will open my door to anyone who knocks for help."
And this is the Casper ten Boom we have heard about - this is the old grandfatherly man we know and love from his daughter's book, The Hiding Place. But what about the Casper of doubt? What about the man who spent hours wrestling with the idea of turning the jews over to the authorities and protecting his family. Why don't we read about the man who felt like a failure because the jews he was protecting never fully accepted the Christian faith?
As a struggling Christian, it's easy to look to the great men and women of the faith as examples. When my doubts are heavier than my faith - I can idolize the faith of men and women like those found in the ten Boom family. But what do you do when you are the saint? When you are seen as the spiritual giant, what do you do with your doubts, your temptations, your sins, and your failures?
How sad must it be to realize the depth of your own doubt, frustration, sin, and laziness and then to realize that you're probably it. You are probably as faithful as anyone else. What pain must belong in the knowledge that after you are gone, people will remember your name - that you lived for Christ so poorly that people will remember you first and then Christ; that people will make you an idol.
What a sad life Mother Theresa and John Paul II must have led - living with the full knowledge that this is probably it - this is probably the extent to which the frail human form can live fully for God.
After the SS arrested Casper ten Boom they decided that he was too old - they would prefer he died in his own bed than have an extra body to dispose of. One soldier said, that he was quite old and asked, if they let him go, if he would behave. He responded, "If I go home today, tomorrow I will open my door to anyone who knocks for help."
And this is the Casper ten Boom we have heard about - this is the old grandfatherly man we know and love from his daughter's book, The Hiding Place. But what about the Casper of doubt? What about the man who spent hours wrestling with the idea of turning the jews over to the authorities and protecting his family. Why don't we read about the man who felt like a failure because the jews he was protecting never fully accepted the Christian faith?
As a struggling Christian, it's easy to look to the great men and women of the faith as examples. When my doubts are heavier than my faith - I can idolize the faith of men and women like those found in the ten Boom family. But what do you do when you are the saint? When you are seen as the spiritual giant, what do you do with your doubts, your temptations, your sins, and your failures?
How sad must it be to realize the depth of your own doubt, frustration, sin, and laziness and then to realize that you're probably it. You are probably as faithful as anyone else. What pain must belong in the knowledge that after you are gone, people will remember your name - that you lived for Christ so poorly that people will remember you first and then Christ; that people will make you an idol.
What a sad life Mother Theresa and John Paul II must have led - living with the full knowledge that this is probably it - this is probably the extent to which the frail human form can live fully for God.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Pictures from Kiev.
This is me and some of the students I work with (from L'viv Ukraine), and two pictures I took of an ancient church.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Happy Mothers' Day!
Yes, I know you're reading this Debbie Airgood.
Sorry I can't be there to celebrate with you!
Love, (your son) Michael.
Sorry I can't be there to celebrate with you!
Love, (your son) Michael.
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