Monday, March 16, 2009
Springy feeling
It's been so long since I posted that this site fell off my "favorites" list. But spring is here, and Easter is around the corner, and maybe I'll get back to it now.
Jesus the Teacher - sermon Mar. 15
Mark 4:1-20
Third of a Series on Jesus
This starts pretty sketchy - as notes, but soon goes to manuscript form.
A teacher draws you in and makes you a participant in your own learning.
(Give examples – Learning biology by hatching eggs.
Learning about play structure by making a puppet show.
Learning about trees by drawing them.
Learning where we are in the world by spotting the horizon.)
Great teachers involve students in learning.
Jesus was a great teacher – no class room, no blackboard, no books, no testing.
Interesting subject matter – One “subject” was the moral life.
How should we live?
What is right human behavior?
What is it good for us to do?
Jesus’ teaching style and methods are very different that what we’d find in the classroom.
He taught by proverb, aphorism, parable and story. Biblical scholars recognize that this was a completely different style than you find in other Biblical literature. Moses taught what to do with the second tablet of the Ten Commandments. And hundreds of other laws about what we should eat, wear, own, loan, grow, give, etc. Do this. Don’t do that. That’s the moral life.
In sharp contrast, Jesus tells these kind of peculiar little short stories, and says things like “Many who are first will be last, and the last first.” Or “You are the salt of the earth.” He tells parables, like the Good Samaritan, or the Prodigal Son. When he give directions, which he rarely does, they are things like “Let the one who has no sin cast the first stone.” And when he describes his teaching to his own disciples, he says, “I tell everything in parables, so that some people will hear but not understand” .
What kind of teacher is this?
This saying in particular has always puzzled me. Read an article by an professor of philosophy of education, written for scholars of education, that helped me see Jesus’ teaching in a new way. (The guy’s name is Nicolas Burbules, he’s at the UofI and I intend to look him up and ask him if I can buy him a cup of coffee next week. I’ll let you know how that goes.)
My new friend Nick says that most moral teaching has as its underlying assumption that people would be good if they what the right thing was to do. So the moral teacher just shows the right thing and people do it. Teaching kids to play together. You teach them to take turns and . . . voila! Right behavior! (ha) Or you convince them, with a rational argument, why moral behavior is good for them. You teach sharing by having one child cut the cake and the other child choose first. And they learn that cutting equal pieces is good for them as well as good for their little brother. Voila! Right behavior!
Jesus, however, teaches not out of the assumption that if people just knew the right thing they would do it. He seems to teach from a place that assumes that there are deep and persistent obstacles to right behavior. That people have trouble being good. Trouble being good. Hmm. Jesus teaches in a way that recognizes and addresses the barriers to moral behavior that he sees in our psyches, souls, hearts, whatever you want to call that place within us where our moral decisions get made.
One of the barriers that most concerns Jesus is moralism and self-righteousness. In fact, at one point (18:19) , Luke tells us “Here is another parable that he told, aimed at those who were sure of their own goodness and looked down on everyone else.” “Smugness and moral superiority are moral barriers because they foster a sense of complacency, and because they inhibit the ability to empathize with or forgive others – two crucial dimensions of morality, for Jesus.” (Burbules, p. 7) Jesus saw the feeling of moral superiority as a barrier to acting morally. But he also addressed hopelessness that suffering sometimes produces. And the anger or vengefulness that arises when we are wronged. Arrogance. Egoism. And he addressed these barriers by telling these funny stories that pull people in – or pull some people in – and make them participate in their own learning.
Jesus as a teacher prepared lesson plans that helped people UNLEARN these barriers to right behavior. Being his student means that we have to be transformed – our attitudes, our assumptions, our way of thinking and feeling has been transformed – before the moral teachings can take root and flourish. “The moral demands of Jesus presuppose a changed nature and disposition.” (Manson, The Teaching of Jesus, p. 299)
Parable and proverbs and aphorisms are Jesus’ way – perhaps the best and only way – for people to be transformed and changed in such a way that right behavior is possible. Because they force the learner to confront what, in us, keeps us from doing the right thing. They bring lack of forgiveness, or self-righteousness, or selfishness into focus for us. And they help us recognize who we are and how we behave. The story of the Prodigal Son makes us think - - - “Which of these sons is most like me? Where am I in this story?” And the parables unhook us from how we always act and think and what we have previously believed long enough to invite us to give these underlying obstacles up, to lay them aside, to turn in a new direction in order that a new response to people or to situations is possible. It sparks our curiosity about others, and it requires our participation in answering the question, ‘What should I do in this situation?’ Jesus doesn’t tell us the answers. He invites us to consider life and or choices in life more deeply in order to arrive at the answer that is right for where we are and what we should do.
Jesus’ teaching has as its purpose making us transformed, more thoughtful and more moral beings at our core. Without such a transformation, a set of rules is worse than useless. It is counterproductive. Rules just reinforce self-righteousness, smugness, self-centeredness and hopelessness. People end up worse than they started. I think that’s what Jesus means when he says that if you drive one demon from your heart, seven worse ones will come and take its place. It’s not a matter of dos and don’ts. It’s a matter of caring about yourself and others in a deep and thoughtful way.
Jesus’ greatest, most well known aphorism is “Love your neighbor as yourself.” And what does that mean, except that we must struggle with what is loving, who is my neighbor, how do I love myself. The student of Jesus’ teaching is always drawn deeper into moral dilemmas, always has to be participate in the learning before arriving at the right conclusion, and has to do it over and over again.
One of the most powerful learning experiences for our young people is the mission trip. They didn’t just learn – Christian charity is a good thing to do. They went into the homes of people whose lives looked bleak and hopeless and often found that they, too, had hopes and dreams. They went and sorted through clothes for a thrift store. They played games with the children who would be shopping for school clothes there. I think it was Allison Bass who said, “I’ll never give away anything I’d be ashamed to wear.” She could only say that because she had confronted her assumptions about giving and receiving and who she was in relation to these others, who wore her cast off clothes. That’s just one example of the deep, transformative learning that Jesus teaches.
Jesus the Teacher uses parables because they demand that “Those who have ears, listen!” The parable with which Jesus teaches about parables – the one we read this morning, frankly acknowledges that not every is going to be willing to make this effort. There are people who are like barren ground, or rocky soil, or a weedy spot. The good seed of Jesus’ teaching will not bear fruit in everyone. He lays it out – parables are for those who hear and believe and grow the seeds that he is sowing
But, to the disciples, he explains the parable. This is the only parable that has an explanation attached to it from the very beginning. The disciples – and by extension WE – are not allowed to fail to understand. We MUST get it. We are the people Jesus has chosen to learn from him, and he doesn’t allow his chosen ones to fail. He is the original “no child left behind” teacher. We are expected to participate in our own education, and to learn from the great teacher what he has to teach. To hear, and accept and bear much fruit. This is what Jesus the teacher expects of us, his disciples, his students.
The question I always ask of a text - the one thing I’m always trying to communicate on a Sunday morning from this pulpit is this: What’s the good news here? And this morning, I think that’s it: That Jesus has chosen us to be life-long learners of a Master Teacher. He believes that we can and will learn from Him the right way to live. He, patiently and repeatedly puts before us the opportunity to learn from him what is right, and he assures us that, yes, we can understand and do it.
He says, “To you, from me, has been given the secret of the kingdom of God. Let anyone with ears to hear listen.”
Third of a Series on Jesus
This starts pretty sketchy - as notes, but soon goes to manuscript form.
A teacher draws you in and makes you a participant in your own learning.
(Give examples – Learning biology by hatching eggs.
Learning about play structure by making a puppet show.
Learning about trees by drawing them.
Learning where we are in the world by spotting the horizon.)
Great teachers involve students in learning.
Jesus was a great teacher – no class room, no blackboard, no books, no testing.
Interesting subject matter – One “subject” was the moral life.
How should we live?
What is right human behavior?
What is it good for us to do?
Jesus’ teaching style and methods are very different that what we’d find in the classroom.
He taught by proverb, aphorism, parable and story. Biblical scholars recognize that this was a completely different style than you find in other Biblical literature. Moses taught what to do with the second tablet of the Ten Commandments. And hundreds of other laws about what we should eat, wear, own, loan, grow, give, etc. Do this. Don’t do that. That’s the moral life.
In sharp contrast, Jesus tells these kind of peculiar little short stories, and says things like “Many who are first will be last, and the last first.” Or “You are the salt of the earth.” He tells parables, like the Good Samaritan, or the Prodigal Son. When he give directions, which he rarely does, they are things like “Let the one who has no sin cast the first stone.” And when he describes his teaching to his own disciples, he says, “I tell everything in parables, so that some people will hear but not understand” .
What kind of teacher is this?
This saying in particular has always puzzled me. Read an article by an professor of philosophy of education, written for scholars of education, that helped me see Jesus’ teaching in a new way. (The guy’s name is Nicolas Burbules, he’s at the UofI and I intend to look him up and ask him if I can buy him a cup of coffee next week. I’ll let you know how that goes.)
My new friend Nick says that most moral teaching has as its underlying assumption that people would be good if they what the right thing was to do. So the moral teacher just shows the right thing and people do it. Teaching kids to play together. You teach them to take turns and . . . voila! Right behavior! (ha) Or you convince them, with a rational argument, why moral behavior is good for them. You teach sharing by having one child cut the cake and the other child choose first. And they learn that cutting equal pieces is good for them as well as good for their little brother. Voila! Right behavior!
Jesus, however, teaches not out of the assumption that if people just knew the right thing they would do it. He seems to teach from a place that assumes that there are deep and persistent obstacles to right behavior. That people have trouble being good. Trouble being good. Hmm. Jesus teaches in a way that recognizes and addresses the barriers to moral behavior that he sees in our psyches, souls, hearts, whatever you want to call that place within us where our moral decisions get made.
One of the barriers that most concerns Jesus is moralism and self-righteousness. In fact, at one point (18:19) , Luke tells us “Here is another parable that he told, aimed at those who were sure of their own goodness and looked down on everyone else.” “Smugness and moral superiority are moral barriers because they foster a sense of complacency, and because they inhibit the ability to empathize with or forgive others – two crucial dimensions of morality, for Jesus.” (Burbules, p. 7) Jesus saw the feeling of moral superiority as a barrier to acting morally. But he also addressed hopelessness that suffering sometimes produces. And the anger or vengefulness that arises when we are wronged. Arrogance. Egoism. And he addressed these barriers by telling these funny stories that pull people in – or pull some people in – and make them participate in their own learning.
Jesus as a teacher prepared lesson plans that helped people UNLEARN these barriers to right behavior. Being his student means that we have to be transformed – our attitudes, our assumptions, our way of thinking and feeling has been transformed – before the moral teachings can take root and flourish. “The moral demands of Jesus presuppose a changed nature and disposition.” (Manson, The Teaching of Jesus, p. 299)
Parable and proverbs and aphorisms are Jesus’ way – perhaps the best and only way – for people to be transformed and changed in such a way that right behavior is possible. Because they force the learner to confront what, in us, keeps us from doing the right thing. They bring lack of forgiveness, or self-righteousness, or selfishness into focus for us. And they help us recognize who we are and how we behave. The story of the Prodigal Son makes us think - - - “Which of these sons is most like me? Where am I in this story?” And the parables unhook us from how we always act and think and what we have previously believed long enough to invite us to give these underlying obstacles up, to lay them aside, to turn in a new direction in order that a new response to people or to situations is possible. It sparks our curiosity about others, and it requires our participation in answering the question, ‘What should I do in this situation?’ Jesus doesn’t tell us the answers. He invites us to consider life and or choices in life more deeply in order to arrive at the answer that is right for where we are and what we should do.
Jesus’ teaching has as its purpose making us transformed, more thoughtful and more moral beings at our core. Without such a transformation, a set of rules is worse than useless. It is counterproductive. Rules just reinforce self-righteousness, smugness, self-centeredness and hopelessness. People end up worse than they started. I think that’s what Jesus means when he says that if you drive one demon from your heart, seven worse ones will come and take its place. It’s not a matter of dos and don’ts. It’s a matter of caring about yourself and others in a deep and thoughtful way.
Jesus’ greatest, most well known aphorism is “Love your neighbor as yourself.” And what does that mean, except that we must struggle with what is loving, who is my neighbor, how do I love myself. The student of Jesus’ teaching is always drawn deeper into moral dilemmas, always has to be participate in the learning before arriving at the right conclusion, and has to do it over and over again.
One of the most powerful learning experiences for our young people is the mission trip. They didn’t just learn – Christian charity is a good thing to do. They went into the homes of people whose lives looked bleak and hopeless and often found that they, too, had hopes and dreams. They went and sorted through clothes for a thrift store. They played games with the children who would be shopping for school clothes there. I think it was Allison Bass who said, “I’ll never give away anything I’d be ashamed to wear.” She could only say that because she had confronted her assumptions about giving and receiving and who she was in relation to these others, who wore her cast off clothes. That’s just one example of the deep, transformative learning that Jesus teaches.
Jesus the Teacher uses parables because they demand that “Those who have ears, listen!” The parable with which Jesus teaches about parables – the one we read this morning, frankly acknowledges that not every is going to be willing to make this effort. There are people who are like barren ground, or rocky soil, or a weedy spot. The good seed of Jesus’ teaching will not bear fruit in everyone. He lays it out – parables are for those who hear and believe and grow the seeds that he is sowing
But, to the disciples, he explains the parable. This is the only parable that has an explanation attached to it from the very beginning. The disciples – and by extension WE – are not allowed to fail to understand. We MUST get it. We are the people Jesus has chosen to learn from him, and he doesn’t allow his chosen ones to fail. He is the original “no child left behind” teacher. We are expected to participate in our own education, and to learn from the great teacher what he has to teach. To hear, and accept and bear much fruit. This is what Jesus the teacher expects of us, his disciples, his students.
The question I always ask of a text - the one thing I’m always trying to communicate on a Sunday morning from this pulpit is this: What’s the good news here? And this morning, I think that’s it: That Jesus has chosen us to be life-long learners of a Master Teacher. He believes that we can and will learn from Him the right way to live. He, patiently and repeatedly puts before us the opportunity to learn from him what is right, and he assures us that, yes, we can understand and do it.
He says, “To you, from me, has been given the secret of the kingdom of God. Let anyone with ears to hear listen.”
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Light - sermon 2/22
Transfiguration Sunday
Scripture: Mark 9: 2-9
There was a funky tune some of you may recall from the ‘80s. I looked for it on iTunes, but it wasn't there. I guess it wasn't quite as popular as I thought. I'll sing it to you:
I study nuclear science
I love my classes
I got a crazy teacher, he wears dark glasses
Things are going great, and they're only getting better
I'm doing all right, getting good grades
The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades,
I gotta wear shades
Actually – these glass are not for nuclear science class. They are for peeking in my kiln when the glass is molten, glowing hot. But I brought them out today because our scripture lesson is this wonderful and strange story of the Transfiguration, a story in which the light of the future is so bright, it blinds the disciples.
Retell the story.
We read this story every year, right before Lent starts. And because it is a story with such a strong supernatural element, the temptation here is to play that down and play up the more understandable parts of the story. And I’ve done that. But the amazing light is makes the story remarkable. So this year, I invite you to turn toward the light – turn our attention toward the light, anyway, the light of Jesus brightness, shining at the top of that mountain.
The light so bright it is unbearable – blinding- too much to take in. Maybe I get that this year because of looking into the kiln while the glass is glowing hot. It want to look, but there’s too much light to see. Teeny teeny glimpses when the light is so dazzling.
Surely this is part of what is meant when the Bible says that Jesus is the light of the world, and we can’t take Him in. We try. We domesticate Him – our buddy, our conscience, our example. Those things are fine – but there is so much more. The glory of God ! In the old Testament, Moses wanted a look at God and God said, “You couldn’t stand it.” So Moses say, just a tiny glimpse of God’s backside and his face glowed. When he came back to the people they couldn’t bear the glowing of his face and they asked him to veil his face to shield them from the brightness. That’s the glory of God. And even as we have to look away – we’d be crazy to live as though the power and the majesty and the glory weren’t there.
The light so bright it is unbelievable – our minds are such paltry things. The light is a glimpse into Jesus’ future – the resurrection. And it’s a glimpse into our future – the ultimate kingdom of God that Jesus has been preaching will someday be apparent everywhere.
What is beyond our explaining, we describe and move on:
Example A – Did you happen to notice in the news last week that the US space agency’s Fermi telescope has detected a massive explosion in space. The spectacular blast (I’m quoting the news story here) produced energies ranging from 3,000 to more than five billion times that of visible light, astrophysicists said. Blasts such as this shine hundred of times brighter than a typical supernovqa and about a million trillion times as bright as eath’s sun, NASA says on its website.
I don’t know about you, but when I can look up and see the stars, it’s a spiritual experience. And, somehow, reading this article, I was just struck by how, while during a week in which the biggest thing everyone’s attention was focused on economic forecasts and political scandals – something unimaginably bigger was going on. A week in which I thanked God for helping me make an appointment on time by holding up a train, he was blowing some galaxy to kingdom come. Even the really serious stuff on earth – the wars and the poverty – human cruelty and kindness – it’s not all there is. It’s important. But it’s awfully small. And we can’t understand that. It’s a light beyond explaining.
I’ll tell you another light that is beyond explaining. And it is a light – doctors and chaplains and many others who have spoken with people who have had near death experiences report that light is a significant part of the report. A pediatrician has recorded some of his patient’s descriptions: Children describe it as a "light that had a lot of good things in it" (age 5), or "I saw the sun and it had a happy face for me" (a 3 y/o),"you'll see, Dr. Morse, heaven is fun"(age 7), most intriguingly, "I went into a huge noodle when I died, well it must have been a tunnel because I don't think noodles have rainbows in them.(age 5).
At the Art Show last summer, one of the pieces was a painting of that experience, remembered from a near drowning experience. The painting is full of bright, dazzling light.
I’m really intrigued with the results of research on the lives of these children as they grew to be adults. It turns out that this group is different – in significant ways – from the general population. They are less likely to suffer from depression, they are less likely to be divorced, they volunteer their time to community organizations way more often than general. They give more to charity. They report being happier.
And if you think very hard about it, I’ll bet you can guess which member of our congregation painted that picture of the light at the art show. It’s not something we can grasp. But somehow, the light grasps us.
There is another light we don’t understand but we would be crazy to ignore.
The light of Christ, shining in one another. Paul says – And we all with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.
. . . For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts . . . the glory of God in the face of Christ . . .
I hope that this Lenten booklet will give you a small sense of the light shining in the hearts of these, your brothers and sisters in Christ. I hope it will illuminate your Lenten season.
But – after all this talk about light –unbearable, unbelievable, unexplainable - the text says that God points in another direction – saying “LISTEN” to Jesus. The light is too bright to bear for long, too mysterious to understand, too elusive to hang on to. But LISTENING to Jesus is accessible, doable, understandable.
Our eyes may not be able to stand the glory of God. But our ears – ah! Our ears – are up the the task of taking God’s love and grace and power in, if we will open them to his Word – his Son – his Christ.
This is my Beloved Son. Listen to him.
Listen to Jesus. Listen for Jesus. And expect the light. The future’s so bright. You better wear shades.
Scripture: Mark 9: 2-9
There was a funky tune some of you may recall from the ‘80s. I looked for it on iTunes, but it wasn't there. I guess it wasn't quite as popular as I thought. I'll sing it to you:
I study nuclear science
I love my classes
I got a crazy teacher, he wears dark glasses
Things are going great, and they're only getting better
I'm doing all right, getting good grades
The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades,
I gotta wear shades
Actually – these glass are not for nuclear science class. They are for peeking in my kiln when the glass is molten, glowing hot. But I brought them out today because our scripture lesson is this wonderful and strange story of the Transfiguration, a story in which the light of the future is so bright, it blinds the disciples.
Retell the story.
We read this story every year, right before Lent starts. And because it is a story with such a strong supernatural element, the temptation here is to play that down and play up the more understandable parts of the story. And I’ve done that. But the amazing light is makes the story remarkable. So this year, I invite you to turn toward the light – turn our attention toward the light, anyway, the light of Jesus brightness, shining at the top of that mountain.
The light so bright it is unbearable – blinding- too much to take in. Maybe I get that this year because of looking into the kiln while the glass is glowing hot. It want to look, but there’s too much light to see. Teeny teeny glimpses when the light is so dazzling.
Surely this is part of what is meant when the Bible says that Jesus is the light of the world, and we can’t take Him in. We try. We domesticate Him – our buddy, our conscience, our example. Those things are fine – but there is so much more. The glory of God ! In the old Testament, Moses wanted a look at God and God said, “You couldn’t stand it.” So Moses say, just a tiny glimpse of God’s backside and his face glowed. When he came back to the people they couldn’t bear the glowing of his face and they asked him to veil his face to shield them from the brightness. That’s the glory of God. And even as we have to look away – we’d be crazy to live as though the power and the majesty and the glory weren’t there.
The light so bright it is unbelievable – our minds are such paltry things. The light is a glimpse into Jesus’ future – the resurrection. And it’s a glimpse into our future – the ultimate kingdom of God that Jesus has been preaching will someday be apparent everywhere.
What is beyond our explaining, we describe and move on:
Example A – Did you happen to notice in the news last week that the US space agency’s Fermi telescope has detected a massive explosion in space. The spectacular blast (I’m quoting the news story here) produced energies ranging from 3,000 to more than five billion times that of visible light, astrophysicists said. Blasts such as this shine hundred of times brighter than a typical supernovqa and about a million trillion times as bright as eath’s sun, NASA says on its website.
I don’t know about you, but when I can look up and see the stars, it’s a spiritual experience. And, somehow, reading this article, I was just struck by how, while during a week in which the biggest thing everyone’s attention was focused on economic forecasts and political scandals – something unimaginably bigger was going on. A week in which I thanked God for helping me make an appointment on time by holding up a train, he was blowing some galaxy to kingdom come. Even the really serious stuff on earth – the wars and the poverty – human cruelty and kindness – it’s not all there is. It’s important. But it’s awfully small. And we can’t understand that. It’s a light beyond explaining.
I’ll tell you another light that is beyond explaining. And it is a light – doctors and chaplains and many others who have spoken with people who have had near death experiences report that light is a significant part of the report. A pediatrician has recorded some of his patient’s descriptions: Children describe it as a "light that had a lot of good things in it" (age 5), or "I saw the sun and it had a happy face for me" (a 3 y/o),"you'll see, Dr. Morse, heaven is fun"(age 7), most intriguingly, "I went into a huge noodle when I died, well it must have been a tunnel because I don't think noodles have rainbows in them.(age 5).
At the Art Show last summer, one of the pieces was a painting of that experience, remembered from a near drowning experience. The painting is full of bright, dazzling light.
I’m really intrigued with the results of research on the lives of these children as they grew to be adults. It turns out that this group is different – in significant ways – from the general population. They are less likely to suffer from depression, they are less likely to be divorced, they volunteer their time to community organizations way more often than general. They give more to charity. They report being happier.
And if you think very hard about it, I’ll bet you can guess which member of our congregation painted that picture of the light at the art show. It’s not something we can grasp. But somehow, the light grasps us.
There is another light we don’t understand but we would be crazy to ignore.
The light of Christ, shining in one another. Paul says – And we all with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.
. . . For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts . . . the glory of God in the face of Christ . . .
I hope that this Lenten booklet will give you a small sense of the light shining in the hearts of these, your brothers and sisters in Christ. I hope it will illuminate your Lenten season.
But – after all this talk about light –unbearable, unbelievable, unexplainable - the text says that God points in another direction – saying “LISTEN” to Jesus. The light is too bright to bear for long, too mysterious to understand, too elusive to hang on to. But LISTENING to Jesus is accessible, doable, understandable.
Our eyes may not be able to stand the glory of God. But our ears – ah! Our ears – are up the the task of taking God’s love and grace and power in, if we will open them to his Word – his Son – his Christ.
This is my Beloved Son. Listen to him.
Listen to Jesus. Listen for Jesus. And expect the light. The future’s so bright. You better wear shades.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
More mileage!
It was great to pick up the phone this morning and hear from our Lutheran walkers. They have been moving right along!
12/1-6 A went 7.25 miles and W logged 5.
12/7-13 the each hiked 8.25 miles. Wow! That's gettin' on down the road.
So . . . 12.25 + 16.50 = 28.75 miles from those two. Hoorah!
12/1-6 A went 7.25 miles and W logged 5.
12/7-13 the each hiked 8.25 miles. Wow! That's gettin' on down the road.
So . . . 12.25 + 16.50 = 28.75 miles from those two. Hoorah!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Typo
Sometimes spell check does not save me from myself.
Exhibit A from the service this morning:
I printed out the words to a hymn that fit the theme for the day (John the Baptist's warning to prepare) perfectly. It was called "On Jordan's Bank the Herald's Cry"
Here's how it came out:
On Jordan’s Bank the Herald’s Cry
Coffin/Chandler
On Jordan’s bank the herald’s dry
Announces that the Lord is nigh;
Come then and hearken, for he brings
Glad tidings from the King of Kings.
The Herald's DRY??? The Baptist is dry? That's not right. Unless maybe he was a SOUTHERN Baptist. ARGG.
Exhibit A from the service this morning:
I printed out the words to a hymn that fit the theme for the day (John the Baptist's warning to prepare) perfectly. It was called "On Jordan's Bank the Herald's Cry"
Here's how it came out:
On Jordan’s Bank the Herald’s Cry
Coffin/Chandler
On Jordan’s bank the herald’s dry
Announces that the Lord is nigh;
Come then and hearken, for he brings
Glad tidings from the King of Kings.
The Herald's DRY??? The Baptist is dry? That's not right. Unless maybe he was a SOUTHERN Baptist. ARGG.
Sermon - Dec. 7
Isaiah 40:1-8
Mark 1:1-11
A Christmas Worth Waiting For #2 – Warning
You heard about the city boy that moved out in the country, didn’t you? Yep. Called up the township and asked them to move the deer crossing sign that was out by his house. Said too many deer had been getting hit out there. He didn’t think it was a very good place for them to cross.
It’s deer season. But for weeks and weeks, it’s been deer collision season. Every year, estimates are that there are 1.5 million deer/car collisions. (Insurance companies say 1.5 billion dollars of damage. Remember when that seemed like a lot of money?) Illinois ranks #3 nationally for these close encounters of the bad kind.
And do you know what every one of the 1.5 million drivers involved in those crashes say? “It came out of no where! There wasn’t any warning!” In spite of the thousands of deer crossing signs, it still seems like we’d like more warning of dangerous situations and impending hazards.
Well – the Second Sunday in Advent is traditionally “Warning” Sunday. It is the Sunday that we read about crazy old John the Baptist, out there by the Jordan, shouting that people had better REPENT! REPENT! The Lord is on His Way! Straighten up and FLY RIGHT! Or You’ll be Sorry when He gets here!
And always, this catches those of us who have spent our weekend putting up a tree and decorating, shopping or reading the Christmas story to our children – a bit by surprise. We’re focused on the sweet baby Jesus – and then come to church and hear about a man wearing camel’s hair and eating bugs and telling the crowds that human beings are terrible sinners and we better shape up.
John the Baptist is an important part of Advent – because in order to experience Christ entering our lives in a new way this season, we need to be warned about the things that might prevent that from happening.
This sermon is about the difference between a threat and a warning. Threat is when someone says that they are going to hurt you because they don’t like what you are doing. A warning is when someone says that there is danger up ahead and you can avoid it or prepare to meet it. A threat is hateful. A warning is given out of love.
Warnings and the need for them:
My grandmother, as a very young woman, received a warning in a dream. It was a warning that about warning – sort of a meta-dream where meaning is interwoven and rich. In this dream, which she received as a young mother, she saw her toddler son – her first born child – playing in the yard, and then, she dreamed that he was headed toward an open well. And she called to him, but he just turned and looked at her and kept on going. In the dream, her shouts to turn around were not heeded, and he fell down the hole and she lost him. When she awoke, she felt that she had been warned about the importance of having her children pay attention to her warnings. I remember her telling me, she didn’t like disciplining them, but God had showed her that she had to in order to protect them.
Warnings are about love and protection and guidance and the deep desire for the person being warned to avoid danger and live well.
God’s advent warnings are like that:
The warning in Isaiah – we are like flowers of the field. Our time is limited. Life is fragile and breathtakingly short.
Make straight the paths! There is crookedness in every single one of us. There are mountains we have made out of molehills and valleys we do not wanted lifted into the light. Christ’s coming is for the purpose of reunion, and we have put up some pretty big obstacles in his way.
God wants us to avoid the danger of wasting out lives on meaningless trivia, of wasting our energy on holding grudges. God warns us of the dangers of putting our trust in the riches or popularity or fame. Those are dangerous things. Those are wells, down which perfectly beautiful children of God may, indeed, fall. Children have been lost this way before. But God does not want to lose YOU.
Coming to the table, in some traditions, used to be a time for straightening things out in our lives. It used to be that if you had a bad grudge, this was the time to resolve it. If you had a debt to pay, or an apology to offer, the table was the warning to get that done so that you could receive the sacrament. The rite of “Penance” in the RC church is still practiced. We Protestants have a slightly different take. We understand that table as a way to become Christian enough to deal with the problem. We need grace BEFORE we can turn our lives around, make the apology, mend the relationship, fix the behavior or whatever we need to do to get right with God and one another. So the table shouldn’t be avoided. Neither should it be approached without caution. Be warned! This meal can and should change you from the inside out!
John the Baptist’s warning is out of love for the people, that they should prepared to receive the Christ when he comes. God wants to warn us that our hands need to be free to receive the precious Christ. Our hearts need to be unconflicted and ready to love. Our lives need to have enough space in them for prayer and fellowship. Prepare yourselves. The warning is our time is limited and God’s coming is not on our timetable. Don’t be caught like a deer in the headlights!
Head the Baptist’s warning:
Prepare the way of the Lord.
Mark 1:1-11
A Christmas Worth Waiting For #2 – Warning
You heard about the city boy that moved out in the country, didn’t you? Yep. Called up the township and asked them to move the deer crossing sign that was out by his house. Said too many deer had been getting hit out there. He didn’t think it was a very good place for them to cross.
It’s deer season. But for weeks and weeks, it’s been deer collision season. Every year, estimates are that there are 1.5 million deer/car collisions. (Insurance companies say 1.5 billion dollars of damage. Remember when that seemed like a lot of money?) Illinois ranks #3 nationally for these close encounters of the bad kind.
And do you know what every one of the 1.5 million drivers involved in those crashes say? “It came out of no where! There wasn’t any warning!” In spite of the thousands of deer crossing signs, it still seems like we’d like more warning of dangerous situations and impending hazards.
Well – the Second Sunday in Advent is traditionally “Warning” Sunday. It is the Sunday that we read about crazy old John the Baptist, out there by the Jordan, shouting that people had better REPENT! REPENT! The Lord is on His Way! Straighten up and FLY RIGHT! Or You’ll be Sorry when He gets here!
And always, this catches those of us who have spent our weekend putting up a tree and decorating, shopping or reading the Christmas story to our children – a bit by surprise. We’re focused on the sweet baby Jesus – and then come to church and hear about a man wearing camel’s hair and eating bugs and telling the crowds that human beings are terrible sinners and we better shape up.
John the Baptist is an important part of Advent – because in order to experience Christ entering our lives in a new way this season, we need to be warned about the things that might prevent that from happening.
This sermon is about the difference between a threat and a warning. Threat is when someone says that they are going to hurt you because they don’t like what you are doing. A warning is when someone says that there is danger up ahead and you can avoid it or prepare to meet it. A threat is hateful. A warning is given out of love.
Warnings and the need for them:
My grandmother, as a very young woman, received a warning in a dream. It was a warning that about warning – sort of a meta-dream where meaning is interwoven and rich. In this dream, which she received as a young mother, she saw her toddler son – her first born child – playing in the yard, and then, she dreamed that he was headed toward an open well. And she called to him, but he just turned and looked at her and kept on going. In the dream, her shouts to turn around were not heeded, and he fell down the hole and she lost him. When she awoke, she felt that she had been warned about the importance of having her children pay attention to her warnings. I remember her telling me, she didn’t like disciplining them, but God had showed her that she had to in order to protect them.
Warnings are about love and protection and guidance and the deep desire for the person being warned to avoid danger and live well.
God’s advent warnings are like that:
The warning in Isaiah – we are like flowers of the field. Our time is limited. Life is fragile and breathtakingly short.
Make straight the paths! There is crookedness in every single one of us. There are mountains we have made out of molehills and valleys we do not wanted lifted into the light. Christ’s coming is for the purpose of reunion, and we have put up some pretty big obstacles in his way.
God wants us to avoid the danger of wasting out lives on meaningless trivia, of wasting our energy on holding grudges. God warns us of the dangers of putting our trust in the riches or popularity or fame. Those are dangerous things. Those are wells, down which perfectly beautiful children of God may, indeed, fall. Children have been lost this way before. But God does not want to lose YOU.
Coming to the table, in some traditions, used to be a time for straightening things out in our lives. It used to be that if you had a bad grudge, this was the time to resolve it. If you had a debt to pay, or an apology to offer, the table was the warning to get that done so that you could receive the sacrament. The rite of “Penance” in the RC church is still practiced. We Protestants have a slightly different take. We understand that table as a way to become Christian enough to deal with the problem. We need grace BEFORE we can turn our lives around, make the apology, mend the relationship, fix the behavior or whatever we need to do to get right with God and one another. So the table shouldn’t be avoided. Neither should it be approached without caution. Be warned! This meal can and should change you from the inside out!
John the Baptist’s warning is out of love for the people, that they should prepared to receive the Christ when he comes. God wants to warn us that our hands need to be free to receive the precious Christ. Our hearts need to be unconflicted and ready to love. Our lives need to have enough space in them for prayer and fellowship. Prepare yourselves. The warning is our time is limited and God’s coming is not on our timetable. Don’t be caught like a deer in the headlights!
Head the Baptist’s warning:
Prepare the way of the Lord.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Wednesday/Thursday
Late to the Gym, I only walked two miles on Wednesday. I was really glad to get the word at choir that two of the singers had walked 16 miles, between them. And their dog had walked twelve! I think we should count the dog-miles. And my theological justification is this: The camels are the ones that actually walked the miles for the wise men. So I think we should recognize the contributions of animals to the Christmas story, too!
16.5 (from Tuesday) + 28 from choir members and their dog + 2 from me = 46.5 miles logged so far.
16.5 (from Tuesday) + 28 from choir members and their dog + 2 from me = 46.5 miles logged so far.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)