http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-205_162-57410087/hyenas-give-up-scavenging-for-lent/
And there is even a donkey angle to the story. I'm in awe.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Department of Truth Being Stranger than Fiction
http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-205_162-57410087/hyenas-give-up-scavenging-for-lent/
And there is even a donkey angle to the story. I'm in awe.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The Political Life. Live it. Love it. Laugh at it.
“I didn't say that I didn't say it. I said that I didn't say that I said it. I want to make that very clear.” - George Romney (Mitt's father. Also a politician. In case you couldn't tell.)
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Give It Up for Lent 2 - Noise (fightin' words)
Scripture - Psalm 46 ("Be still and know that I am God")
James 3: 5-12 ("The tongue is a fire . . . )
This Lent our guide is Jesus’ invitation to come unto him, all who labor and bear heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me. For I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
We’re giving it up for Lent - those things that burden us and drag us down, drag us away from Jesus and the Life he offers.
Last week we talked about heavyness of heart, which is relieved by forgiveness. This week, think with me a bit about something else that may weigh on people these days:
Too many words. Too much noise.
There is good research now that shows it is more and more difficult to find true quiet.
The noise of electronic communication is almost omnipresent - radios, TVs, broadcasts of various kinds. Scientists have shown that the loudest part of our noise problem is transportation. Highways, airports. When I read that, I laughed. Haha. Not if you live in Philo! I thought. And just then a train came through.
All this noise effects our heads. It makes us less thoughtful, more irritable, less rested. All manner of health problems are linked to our noisy, noisy world.
Which shouldn’t surprise us, because some of the strongest statements in the Bible are about the need to listen for God and about encountering God through quiet and silence.
The Sabbath is a quiet zone.
We read the 46th Psalm - Be Still and Know that I am God.
The story of Elijah’s encounter with God on the mountain. Where earthquake - then wind - then fire pass by, but the Lord was not in the earthquake - or the wind - or the fire. Then Elijah heard a still, small voice. And THAT was the voice of God.
Can we make audio space for God’s still small voice?
There’s a special challenge for many of us. We find that when we seek quiet, it is our own words that interfer: Joe Jones had a song that describes what I sometimes think I should sing to myself:
You Talk too Much
Our talk has such incredible power! James says it is like the rudder of a ship that steers our whole lives. And as much as that scares me, it seems to be true. What we say to ourselves matter. What we say to others matters. Our speech is connected to how we feel, how we think, how we act. Neurons fire, and we see the world differently.
Jesus said our spiritual health is reflected in our words, and we must be responsible for what we say. Watch your mouth. It’s not what goes into the mouth that ruins a person. It is what comes out. Out of a bad heart, bad words come, and out a good heart, come good words. And you will be held accountable for every careless word that you speak. Matt 12;36
But there is hope - we can change. If you have a problem with being critical, complaining, being consistently negative, always being picky with the faults of other people; if you change the words that come out of your mouth, you will start to change your very personality and the feelings inside of that personality.
Events of the last week have made us all think long and hard about the tone and level of discourse that our culture and society tolerates and even encourages. We’ve gotten to the place where extreme polarization and ridicule of those who think differently is the norm. It is not unusual now, for public figures to call the opposition names, or tell people to go to hell, or be disrespectful of each other in meetings or public events.
And there’s something sort of fun about having strong opinions and expressing them in the most colorful ways. It makes us feel smart, I think. And it bonds us with others who agree with us and insulates us from caring about those who disagree. But what we have to notice is that it bonds us in hate, not love. It binds us in a sort of sophomoric society of opposition to something rather than common cause FOR something. Do we really want that negativity and disdain to be the ties that bind us?
I do think this is business for Christians. I think we have to set a tone in how we deal with one another and how we deal, even with those who we consider “the opposition”. Otherwise, we are not living up to our calling to be the Light of the World, the Salt of the Earth, which Jesus said His followers must be.
The University of Georgetown - a Catholic University, as we all know now - brought a theological perspective to the issue. Here is just a little bit of what their tradition, and ours, offers:
"In an earlier time, St. Augustine captured the sense of what is required in civil discourse: 'Let us, on both sides, lay aside all arrogance. Let us not, on either side, claim that we have already discovered the truth. Let us seek it together as something which is known to neither of us. For then only may we seek it, lovingly and tranquilly, if there be no bold presumption that it is already discovered and possessed.'
"If we, instead, allow coarseness, anger — even hatred — to stand for civil discourse in America, we violate the sacred trust that has been handed down through the generations. This is our moment to stand for the values of civility in our engagement with one another."
Romans 12:18 - Insofar as it depends on you, live at peace with others.
If we as Christians want to lay aside what has been called “the fiery burden” of stridently expressed opinion, we have help in Christ Jesus - we have his example of measured and loving words, his teaching to be careful what comes out of our mouths, but most of all, we have his own presence at the Table set before us, His own Words which, even in the most danger and distress, were words of Love:
This is my Body, given for you. This is the cup of the new covenant of forgiveness.
When we put this bread and this wine in our mouths and let Christ’s presence enter our hearts, then we are strengthened to let only good things come out.
James 3: 5-12 ("The tongue is a fire . . . )
This Lent our guide is Jesus’ invitation to come unto him, all who labor and bear heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me. For I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
We’re giving it up for Lent - those things that burden us and drag us down, drag us away from Jesus and the Life he offers.
Last week we talked about heavyness of heart, which is relieved by forgiveness. This week, think with me a bit about something else that may weigh on people these days:
Too many words. Too much noise.
There is good research now that shows it is more and more difficult to find true quiet.
The noise of electronic communication is almost omnipresent - radios, TVs, broadcasts of various kinds. Scientists have shown that the loudest part of our noise problem is transportation. Highways, airports. When I read that, I laughed. Haha. Not if you live in Philo! I thought. And just then a train came through.
All this noise effects our heads. It makes us less thoughtful, more irritable, less rested. All manner of health problems are linked to our noisy, noisy world.
Which shouldn’t surprise us, because some of the strongest statements in the Bible are about the need to listen for God and about encountering God through quiet and silence.
The Sabbath is a quiet zone.
We read the 46th Psalm - Be Still and Know that I am God.
The story of Elijah’s encounter with God on the mountain. Where earthquake - then wind - then fire pass by, but the Lord was not in the earthquake - or the wind - or the fire. Then Elijah heard a still, small voice. And THAT was the voice of God.
Can we make audio space for God’s still small voice?
There’s a special challenge for many of us. We find that when we seek quiet, it is our own words that interfer: Joe Jones had a song that describes what I sometimes think I should sing to myself:
You Talk too Much
Our talk has such incredible power! James says it is like the rudder of a ship that steers our whole lives. And as much as that scares me, it seems to be true. What we say to ourselves matter. What we say to others matters. Our speech is connected to how we feel, how we think, how we act. Neurons fire, and we see the world differently.
Jesus said our spiritual health is reflected in our words, and we must be responsible for what we say. Watch your mouth. It’s not what goes into the mouth that ruins a person. It is what comes out. Out of a bad heart, bad words come, and out a good heart, come good words. And you will be held accountable for every careless word that you speak. Matt 12;36
But there is hope - we can change. If you have a problem with being critical, complaining, being consistently negative, always being picky with the faults of other people; if you change the words that come out of your mouth, you will start to change your very personality and the feelings inside of that personality.
Events of the last week have made us all think long and hard about the tone and level of discourse that our culture and society tolerates and even encourages. We’ve gotten to the place where extreme polarization and ridicule of those who think differently is the norm. It is not unusual now, for public figures to call the opposition names, or tell people to go to hell, or be disrespectful of each other in meetings or public events.
And there’s something sort of fun about having strong opinions and expressing them in the most colorful ways. It makes us feel smart, I think. And it bonds us with others who agree with us and insulates us from caring about those who disagree. But what we have to notice is that it bonds us in hate, not love. It binds us in a sort of sophomoric society of opposition to something rather than common cause FOR something. Do we really want that negativity and disdain to be the ties that bind us?
I do think this is business for Christians. I think we have to set a tone in how we deal with one another and how we deal, even with those who we consider “the opposition”. Otherwise, we are not living up to our calling to be the Light of the World, the Salt of the Earth, which Jesus said His followers must be.
The University of Georgetown - a Catholic University, as we all know now - brought a theological perspective to the issue. Here is just a little bit of what their tradition, and ours, offers:
"In an earlier time, St. Augustine captured the sense of what is required in civil discourse: 'Let us, on both sides, lay aside all arrogance. Let us not, on either side, claim that we have already discovered the truth. Let us seek it together as something which is known to neither of us. For then only may we seek it, lovingly and tranquilly, if there be no bold presumption that it is already discovered and possessed.'
"If we, instead, allow coarseness, anger — even hatred — to stand for civil discourse in America, we violate the sacred trust that has been handed down through the generations. This is our moment to stand for the values of civility in our engagement with one another."
Romans 12:18 - Insofar as it depends on you, live at peace with others.
If we as Christians want to lay aside what has been called “the fiery burden” of stridently expressed opinion, we have help in Christ Jesus - we have his example of measured and loving words, his teaching to be careful what comes out of our mouths, but most of all, we have his own presence at the Table set before us, His own Words which, even in the most danger and distress, were words of Love:
This is my Body, given for you. This is the cup of the new covenant of forgiveness.
When we put this bread and this wine in our mouths and let Christ’s presence enter our hearts, then we are strengthened to let only good things come out.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Give it Up for Lent - Heartaches
Again - not written out completely. "Note-y" not naughty.
Give it up for Lent -
What will you give up for Lent? If you are giving up chocolate, or lunch, or the internet, or whatever . . . . great.
I'd like to know how your Lenten discipline affects you. What will you learn? How will you grow? That’s great.
Sermons will explore possible things Christians might give up for Lent. Not stuff like chocolate. But stuff like heartaches. Worry. Fear. Burdens.
The promise we’ll be claiming is the one Jesus spoke “Come unto me all you who labor, carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and have a soft heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my burden is easy and my yoke is light.”
The first burden we want to give up and get some rest from is the burden of a heavy heart. And one thing that can weigh our hearts down and make them feel like we are dragging around a rock - is anger
Two things, really, anger at other people that have done us wrong - and regret about what we ourselves have done - in a past that is less than perfect.
Let’s talk about storing pain and anger over what other people have done first. Cause I hardly ever talk to someone whose heart is heavy. And I hardly ever feel weighted down myself, but what this isn’t part of the reason. Human beings love to hang on to offenses they have suffered. We just do. Description - of holding onto the jagged words and mean things people have said and done to us. Lauren Winner is the one who calls them jagged - “I cling to them although it is my own palms that are lacerated by carrying them.” It is our hearts that are weighed down by holding onto the hurts and heartaches of the past.
Lent is a time for us to lighten up our hearts by practicing the compassion and forgiveness of Christ. By requesting and accepting forgiveness for what we have done. And by forgiving and letting go of those things that others have done to hurt us.
And they are linked. Forgiveness for others and forgiveness for ourselves are inextricably linked - not by theologians, or Oprah or Psychologists. By Jesus. In the prayer that he taught his disciples to pray - the one we say every Sunday - “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” Right after the prayer, before he talks about anything else, the FIRST thing he says is “If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, neither can your Father forgive you.” A heart from sin set free is a heart that sets others free. And it happens together - that kind of light heartedness.
Lewis Smedes said, “To forgive is to set a prisoner free, and to discover that the prisoner was you.”
To forgive means to let go - to release - any expectation of redress of grievances, or to be Paid Back. It is to say, “That happened, and I am not going to waste one more moment of my precious life reliving it.” And then, you just don’t pay it any more attention.
This does not mean that you renew the relationship with the person who injured you. Your forgiving the hurt does not change the person who hurt you. It changes you.
To ask forgiveness of another is also to be relieved of a burden and to receive a gift. I don’t know if you read conservative columnist Cal Thomas - but his column last week was about a recent experience in which he made a mistake. Before a big crowd of supporters, he said something really mean and personal about MSNBC anchor Rachel Maddow. He writes, “All the mean things people say about me are no excuse. I am not supposed to behave like that. One of the principles in which I believe is not to engage in name-calling - which, to my shame, I did. The next morning I felt bad about it, so I called Ms. Maddow to apologize. It wasn’t one of those meaningless “If I’ve offended anyone. . . “ apologies; it was heartfelt. I had embarrassed myself and was a bad example to those who expect better from me. Maddow could not have been more gracious. . . . To be forgiven by one you have wronged is a blessing, it’s even cleansing.”
But even if Rachel Maddow hadn’t been gracious, Thomas would have been unburdened by sincerely repenting. And God’s forgiveness would have allowed him to make a fresh start.
Accepting God’s forgiveness says that God is bigger and God’s love is greater than any mistake or sin in my life. I don’t have to be a liar, even though I told a lie. I don’t have to be a rigid, judgmental jerk, even though I acted like one once. I don’t have to be a lazy, no good whatever. God can make a new future for me.
It’s sort of humbling, when you think of it: it’s just saying that I’m not big enough to ruin God’s plan for the world. I may mess up. And I will never be perfect. But I don’t have to keep beating myself up and making the same mistakes over and over again.
You know I love country music, and there’s a song by Tom Russell that says it perfectly:
“When the lie that you told buzzing round in your head
Let it go.
. . . “
I can change. Which is why it is so hard, I guess. Being forgiven changes you. I’ve told you about the great hat I saw. It said, “Let’s change. You go first.”
So before you forgive, you might want to spend a little time in prayer. Ask Jesus to sit with you. After all, he’s an interested party here. He cared enough about your forgiveness to go to the cross to show you how it is done. So sit with him and try this:
Picture yourself sitting in a beautiful place - a field filled with flowers, or a mountaintop meadow. Or this sanctuary. And you are holding a package on your lap. It is heavy. It is the burden that you have been carrying. It is the pain and anger of a broken relationship, it is the the guilt over a personal failure. It is something that needs forgiveness. Spend a few minutes getting really clear about what is in the package. And then take your hands off of it. Let it go. Imagine that instead of weighing heavily upon you, it begins to rise, like a balloon, and all you hold is the string. What if it flies away? What will that mean for you? Talk to Jesus about that. What would be different in your life if you let it go? And then, the two of you decide if you are ready.
Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy burdened, and you will find rest for your souls.
Give it up for Lent -
What will you give up for Lent? If you are giving up chocolate, or lunch, or the internet, or whatever . . . . great.
I'd like to know how your Lenten discipline affects you. What will you learn? How will you grow? That’s great.
Sermons will explore possible things Christians might give up for Lent. Not stuff like chocolate. But stuff like heartaches. Worry. Fear. Burdens.
The promise we’ll be claiming is the one Jesus spoke “Come unto me all you who labor, carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and have a soft heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my burden is easy and my yoke is light.”
The first burden we want to give up and get some rest from is the burden of a heavy heart. And one thing that can weigh our hearts down and make them feel like we are dragging around a rock - is anger
Two things, really, anger at other people that have done us wrong - and regret about what we ourselves have done - in a past that is less than perfect.
Let’s talk about storing pain and anger over what other people have done first. Cause I hardly ever talk to someone whose heart is heavy. And I hardly ever feel weighted down myself, but what this isn’t part of the reason. Human beings love to hang on to offenses they have suffered. We just do. Description - of holding onto the jagged words and mean things people have said and done to us. Lauren Winner is the one who calls them jagged - “I cling to them although it is my own palms that are lacerated by carrying them.” It is our hearts that are weighed down by holding onto the hurts and heartaches of the past.
Lent is a time for us to lighten up our hearts by practicing the compassion and forgiveness of Christ. By requesting and accepting forgiveness for what we have done. And by forgiving and letting go of those things that others have done to hurt us.
And they are linked. Forgiveness for others and forgiveness for ourselves are inextricably linked - not by theologians, or Oprah or Psychologists. By Jesus. In the prayer that he taught his disciples to pray - the one we say every Sunday - “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” Right after the prayer, before he talks about anything else, the FIRST thing he says is “If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, neither can your Father forgive you.” A heart from sin set free is a heart that sets others free. And it happens together - that kind of light heartedness.
Lewis Smedes said, “To forgive is to set a prisoner free, and to discover that the prisoner was you.”
To forgive means to let go - to release - any expectation of redress of grievances, or to be Paid Back. It is to say, “That happened, and I am not going to waste one more moment of my precious life reliving it.” And then, you just don’t pay it any more attention.
This does not mean that you renew the relationship with the person who injured you. Your forgiving the hurt does not change the person who hurt you. It changes you.
To ask forgiveness of another is also to be relieved of a burden and to receive a gift. I don’t know if you read conservative columnist Cal Thomas - but his column last week was about a recent experience in which he made a mistake. Before a big crowd of supporters, he said something really mean and personal about MSNBC anchor Rachel Maddow. He writes, “All the mean things people say about me are no excuse. I am not supposed to behave like that. One of the principles in which I believe is not to engage in name-calling - which, to my shame, I did. The next morning I felt bad about it, so I called Ms. Maddow to apologize. It wasn’t one of those meaningless “If I’ve offended anyone. . . “ apologies; it was heartfelt. I had embarrassed myself and was a bad example to those who expect better from me. Maddow could not have been more gracious. . . . To be forgiven by one you have wronged is a blessing, it’s even cleansing.”
But even if Rachel Maddow hadn’t been gracious, Thomas would have been unburdened by sincerely repenting. And God’s forgiveness would have allowed him to make a fresh start.
Accepting God’s forgiveness says that God is bigger and God’s love is greater than any mistake or sin in my life. I don’t have to be a liar, even though I told a lie. I don’t have to be a rigid, judgmental jerk, even though I acted like one once. I don’t have to be a lazy, no good whatever. God can make a new future for me.
It’s sort of humbling, when you think of it: it’s just saying that I’m not big enough to ruin God’s plan for the world. I may mess up. And I will never be perfect. But I don’t have to keep beating myself up and making the same mistakes over and over again.
You know I love country music, and there’s a song by Tom Russell that says it perfectly:
“When the lie that you told buzzing round in your head
Let it go.
. . . “
I can change. Which is why it is so hard, I guess. Being forgiven changes you. I’ve told you about the great hat I saw. It said, “Let’s change. You go first.”
So before you forgive, you might want to spend a little time in prayer. Ask Jesus to sit with you. After all, he’s an interested party here. He cared enough about your forgiveness to go to the cross to show you how it is done. So sit with him and try this:
Picture yourself sitting in a beautiful place - a field filled with flowers, or a mountaintop meadow. Or this sanctuary. And you are holding a package on your lap. It is heavy. It is the burden that you have been carrying. It is the pain and anger of a broken relationship, it is the the guilt over a personal failure. It is something that needs forgiveness. Spend a few minutes getting really clear about what is in the package. And then take your hands off of it. Let it go. Imagine that instead of weighing heavily upon you, it begins to rise, like a balloon, and all you hold is the string. What if it flies away? What will that mean for you? Talk to Jesus about that. What would be different in your life if you let it go? And then, the two of you decide if you are ready.
Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy burdened, and you will find rest for your souls.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Sermon - Feb. 19th
This is more "note-y" than usual, but here it is.
Mark 2:1-12
“Casting Call”
Casting call - which part do you want to play? Which will you read for? High school drama productions, it was always what we discussed. What part do you want? And I loved it when there were LOTS of parts. (When there were only two or three, I could bet that my very talented and beautiful sister would get one and I would end up on doing Props or Make up.)
Suppose we were going to act this story out. In Wednesday afterschool sunday School, we really are going to act it out. Or at least we’re going to try. When I told the kids we were going to act out the story - immediately a couple of them wanted to be Jesus. For the purposes of this sermon, at least, let’s just say that that part has been taken. None of us is Jesus. And isn’t that a relief?
This story has lots of big, juicy parts. Which part is the one you want to play?
Let’s look at the AVAILABLE parts:
We have many parts for extras. Those who came to hear Jesus speaking the Word. These folks crowded around Jesus, filled up the house where he was, and the doorways, and sat in the windows. They came to see what all the fuss was about and to hear what this man, who had grown up in the neighborhood, had to say. Is this a part that almost any of us could play convincingly. We are curious about this Christ. We’d be interested in giving him a hearing. We’d walk across the street to see what all the commotion is about. Who wouldn’t?
But there’s more to this part. Do you have the elbows and the death stare to play it? You see these folks got a good seat at the show, and they didn’t care about much but enjoying the Jesus’ performance. They got there first, after all. They had a right to be there. So when the next characters enter the scene, they feel called to hold their position. They don’t let the latecomers, the newcomers get in.
I was once at a sale. A really good, going out of business sale. At a really good shop in Topeka Kansas. The last day of the sale everything was going to be 90% off, and my friend Jim Buskirk and I met there about 7 oclock. We weren’t the first. But we were in pretty good position. And we were prepared to wait, which we did. We had our coffee. We had each other’s company. Gradually, lots of others joined us. The store was going to open at 8. And about 7:55, clear at the back of the crowd, and woman’s voice rang out. Excuse me! Excuse me! My dad is up there. I need to get to my dad. Daddy! Here I am. She was pushing and shoving her way to the front of the line. Jim and I looked at each other and instantly linked elbows.
We would have been right at home in Capernaum, surrounding Jesus and protecting our place in his presence.
Do you want to play that part in the story? Do you want to be part of the crowd that protects its place, even though it requires keeping others away from Jesus? Well - maybe in some sort of play. But it’s an attractive part for members in churches around the world - part of the crowd. gate keepers One problem that some churches have is that they’ve got a lot of these crowd members. Some think a certain pew belongs to them. Or a certain ministry is their exclusive domain. But I hope that none of us, when we stop to think of it, will want to play that part in real life!
But don’t worry - there are other parts.
The heroes of the story are the four friends who, at great personal cost and trouble, bring their buddy and place him before Christ. Now I want you to realize - these aren’t speaking roles. And they are very demanding.
This is an example of ensemble acting. I’ve always pictured it as four men, four guys who take life by the horns and “get ‘er done!” But it could be women, too. Or a couple of couples. Could you play this part? Do you relish a challenge? Do you have a big heart? Are you as stubborn as the day is long? Because the part is not an easy one. You can throw your back out, sometimes, bringing folks to Jesus. But these guys were persistent, too. They see that the door is blocked. They can’t get through the usual way, but do they give up? No! They haul the mat and the man up the flight a stairs, and proceed to dig through the roof of the house in order to put their friend before Jesus. They wouldn’t rest and they wouldn’t give up bringing their friend to Jesus.
This is a part of the story that I pray we will all learn and act out in our real lives. Bringing people who need healing and forgiveness into Christ’s presence.
One way - I’ll admit it, the FIRST way a preacher thinks about - is to invite them to church. To put them in physical proximity to a community where Christ lives. Just invite them to be where the church is - at worship, in fellowship, in mission. And inviting once is rarely enough. Rarely. You have to offer over and over, and in the mean time, you can carry them to God in prayer, over and over and over again. Just bring them into Christ’s presence and have faith that He will do his Saving Thing.
It’s a far better part - though more difficult - than the part of the scribes in this little drama. These are the guys that have been listening to the goings on and choose to criticize what is happening. The script says, “They began to discuss in their hearts and then whisper to each other, “What’s going on here?”
In real life, there are always people who play this part. I have a pastor friend who gets an email every Monday morning, letting him know what he did wrong in the service on Sunday. Every Monday morning. He didn’t say the prayer right. The hymn selection stunk. He forgot to announce the page number for the Bible reading. Something. I am so thankful that I don’t have such diligent scribes in this congregation. Cause every Sunday, I know I make mistakes! And I don’t mind hearing about them, every once in a while. Maybe that is better than having folks whispering amongst themselves. But I have to wonder, is that really the role that anyone wants to play? The critic? I hope not.
There is one other part you might consider: the part of the paralytic man who finds himself gathered up, strapped in his stretcher, lowered through the roof and set down in front of Jesus. There are times in every life when we need to play this part. When we need someone to do this for us, put us right in front of Jesus’ face, where he can look us in the eye and we can look up from the floor where we are lying and see that glorious face, and let him do what he needs to do to get us up and moving again. Sometimes we need that word of forgiveness. Jesus says, “My child, your sins are forgiven.” For one thing, I love that Jesus called the man, “My child.” There’s something so precious about being reminded that that is how God sees us. This may sound strange, but the guy who used to work at the shop where I took my car called me “Kiddo.” “Hey, Kiddo!” I never missed an oil change on that car, because I so loved to hear that greeting. It made me feel like part of the family, and not the part that had to figure things out and fix them. Someone else was in charge. Kiddo. The guy at the Nissan place now calls me “Ma’am.” It’s not the same.
Last week someone said to me, “You’re a good kid. It’s going to be all right.” That’s what Jesus said to the man on the mat. Kiddo, you are forgiven.
We have no idea what “sins” that man had weighing him down. But we know what it is like to be so burdened with guilt and regret that we can’t go on. To have a past mistake always playing itself out in our minds and hearts, keeping us from moving into the future God has planned for us. Sometimes we need to be that man who is forgiven.
And wonderful are the times when the forgiveness is followed by healing! Maybe you wonder, like I do, why Jesus forgives before he heals this character. One possibility is that by forgiving and then healing, Jesus is attempting to break through people’s natural but WRONG tendency to connect sin with physical sickness, or financial poverty. Back then, this connection was especially strong. People thought that if someone was sick, or disabled, it was because they were being punished by God for doing something wrong. Remember at one point when Jesus and the disciples encounter a blind man and the disciples ask, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
And Jesus said, “Neither.” We aren’t quite that cruel these days, but there is still a tendency to put all the responsibility for some crippling situations on the one who is crippled by them. If people are poor - they must be lazy. If kids don’t read well, the parents are unfit. If there is a car crash, somebody must have been drinking. I don’t know why that makes us feel better. Because things are usually much more complicated than that. So Jesus forgives the man first. So that the people don’t think that his problems are God’s punishment. That’s a possibility, at least.
But, wonderfully for the man - and for his friends who drug him there and whose arms were probably too tired to drag him back home, Jesus also heals the man, telling him, “Get up! Take up your bed and walk.” The story isn’t complete until the person who is healed is able to stand on his own and move out into the world as a living testimony to God’s love and power and grace. Mark says, “It blew people’s minds when they saw it!”
So do you have it in you to play that part? To get up, roll up the mat you came in on, and walk out into the world to demonstrate what Jesus can do? Is that the part for you?
That’s the part I want. That’s the part I want for all of us.
Mark 2:1-12
“Casting Call”
Casting call - which part do you want to play? Which will you read for? High school drama productions, it was always what we discussed. What part do you want? And I loved it when there were LOTS of parts. (When there were only two or three, I could bet that my very talented and beautiful sister would get one and I would end up on doing Props or Make up.)
Suppose we were going to act this story out. In Wednesday afterschool sunday School, we really are going to act it out. Or at least we’re going to try. When I told the kids we were going to act out the story - immediately a couple of them wanted to be Jesus. For the purposes of this sermon, at least, let’s just say that that part has been taken. None of us is Jesus. And isn’t that a relief?
This story has lots of big, juicy parts. Which part is the one you want to play?
Let’s look at the AVAILABLE parts:
We have many parts for extras. Those who came to hear Jesus speaking the Word. These folks crowded around Jesus, filled up the house where he was, and the doorways, and sat in the windows. They came to see what all the fuss was about and to hear what this man, who had grown up in the neighborhood, had to say. Is this a part that almost any of us could play convincingly. We are curious about this Christ. We’d be interested in giving him a hearing. We’d walk across the street to see what all the commotion is about. Who wouldn’t?
But there’s more to this part. Do you have the elbows and the death stare to play it? You see these folks got a good seat at the show, and they didn’t care about much but enjoying the Jesus’ performance. They got there first, after all. They had a right to be there. So when the next characters enter the scene, they feel called to hold their position. They don’t let the latecomers, the newcomers get in.
I was once at a sale. A really good, going out of business sale. At a really good shop in Topeka Kansas. The last day of the sale everything was going to be 90% off, and my friend Jim Buskirk and I met there about 7 oclock. We weren’t the first. But we were in pretty good position. And we were prepared to wait, which we did. We had our coffee. We had each other’s company. Gradually, lots of others joined us. The store was going to open at 8. And about 7:55, clear at the back of the crowd, and woman’s voice rang out. Excuse me! Excuse me! My dad is up there. I need to get to my dad. Daddy! Here I am. She was pushing and shoving her way to the front of the line. Jim and I looked at each other and instantly linked elbows.
We would have been right at home in Capernaum, surrounding Jesus and protecting our place in his presence.
Do you want to play that part in the story? Do you want to be part of the crowd that protects its place, even though it requires keeping others away from Jesus? Well - maybe in some sort of play. But it’s an attractive part for members in churches around the world - part of the crowd. gate keepers One problem that some churches have is that they’ve got a lot of these crowd members. Some think a certain pew belongs to them. Or a certain ministry is their exclusive domain. But I hope that none of us, when we stop to think of it, will want to play that part in real life!
But don’t worry - there are other parts.
The heroes of the story are the four friends who, at great personal cost and trouble, bring their buddy and place him before Christ. Now I want you to realize - these aren’t speaking roles. And they are very demanding.
This is an example of ensemble acting. I’ve always pictured it as four men, four guys who take life by the horns and “get ‘er done!” But it could be women, too. Or a couple of couples. Could you play this part? Do you relish a challenge? Do you have a big heart? Are you as stubborn as the day is long? Because the part is not an easy one. You can throw your back out, sometimes, bringing folks to Jesus. But these guys were persistent, too. They see that the door is blocked. They can’t get through the usual way, but do they give up? No! They haul the mat and the man up the flight a stairs, and proceed to dig through the roof of the house in order to put their friend before Jesus. They wouldn’t rest and they wouldn’t give up bringing their friend to Jesus.
This is a part of the story that I pray we will all learn and act out in our real lives. Bringing people who need healing and forgiveness into Christ’s presence.
One way - I’ll admit it, the FIRST way a preacher thinks about - is to invite them to church. To put them in physical proximity to a community where Christ lives. Just invite them to be where the church is - at worship, in fellowship, in mission. And inviting once is rarely enough. Rarely. You have to offer over and over, and in the mean time, you can carry them to God in prayer, over and over and over again. Just bring them into Christ’s presence and have faith that He will do his Saving Thing.
It’s a far better part - though more difficult - than the part of the scribes in this little drama. These are the guys that have been listening to the goings on and choose to criticize what is happening. The script says, “They began to discuss in their hearts and then whisper to each other, “What’s going on here?”
In real life, there are always people who play this part. I have a pastor friend who gets an email every Monday morning, letting him know what he did wrong in the service on Sunday. Every Monday morning. He didn’t say the prayer right. The hymn selection stunk. He forgot to announce the page number for the Bible reading. Something. I am so thankful that I don’t have such diligent scribes in this congregation. Cause every Sunday, I know I make mistakes! And I don’t mind hearing about them, every once in a while. Maybe that is better than having folks whispering amongst themselves. But I have to wonder, is that really the role that anyone wants to play? The critic? I hope not.
There is one other part you might consider: the part of the paralytic man who finds himself gathered up, strapped in his stretcher, lowered through the roof and set down in front of Jesus. There are times in every life when we need to play this part. When we need someone to do this for us, put us right in front of Jesus’ face, where he can look us in the eye and we can look up from the floor where we are lying and see that glorious face, and let him do what he needs to do to get us up and moving again. Sometimes we need that word of forgiveness. Jesus says, “My child, your sins are forgiven.” For one thing, I love that Jesus called the man, “My child.” There’s something so precious about being reminded that that is how God sees us. This may sound strange, but the guy who used to work at the shop where I took my car called me “Kiddo.” “Hey, Kiddo!” I never missed an oil change on that car, because I so loved to hear that greeting. It made me feel like part of the family, and not the part that had to figure things out and fix them. Someone else was in charge. Kiddo. The guy at the Nissan place now calls me “Ma’am.” It’s not the same.
Last week someone said to me, “You’re a good kid. It’s going to be all right.” That’s what Jesus said to the man on the mat. Kiddo, you are forgiven.
We have no idea what “sins” that man had weighing him down. But we know what it is like to be so burdened with guilt and regret that we can’t go on. To have a past mistake always playing itself out in our minds and hearts, keeping us from moving into the future God has planned for us. Sometimes we need to be that man who is forgiven.
And wonderful are the times when the forgiveness is followed by healing! Maybe you wonder, like I do, why Jesus forgives before he heals this character. One possibility is that by forgiving and then healing, Jesus is attempting to break through people’s natural but WRONG tendency to connect sin with physical sickness, or financial poverty. Back then, this connection was especially strong. People thought that if someone was sick, or disabled, it was because they were being punished by God for doing something wrong. Remember at one point when Jesus and the disciples encounter a blind man and the disciples ask, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
And Jesus said, “Neither.” We aren’t quite that cruel these days, but there is still a tendency to put all the responsibility for some crippling situations on the one who is crippled by them. If people are poor - they must be lazy. If kids don’t read well, the parents are unfit. If there is a car crash, somebody must have been drinking. I don’t know why that makes us feel better. Because things are usually much more complicated than that. So Jesus forgives the man first. So that the people don’t think that his problems are God’s punishment. That’s a possibility, at least.
But, wonderfully for the man - and for his friends who drug him there and whose arms were probably too tired to drag him back home, Jesus also heals the man, telling him, “Get up! Take up your bed and walk.” The story isn’t complete until the person who is healed is able to stand on his own and move out into the world as a living testimony to God’s love and power and grace. Mark says, “It blew people’s minds when they saw it!”
So do you have it in you to play that part? To get up, roll up the mat you came in on, and walk out into the world to demonstrate what Jesus can do? Is that the part for you?
That’s the part I want. That’s the part I want for all of us.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
The Lifted Life - Sermon Feb. 5
Scripture: Mark 1:29-39
Isaiah 40: 21-31
Need a lift? I don’t mean a ride to the post office, but a lift for your spirits? A little wind beneath your wings? During these mostly grey, often damp and cold days of winter, I’ll admit that sometimes my spirits lag just a bit. So the words that shone out at me from the scripture lessons for this week were those beautiful words of promise - Those that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall rise up with wings like eagles. They shall walk and not be weary, they shall run and not faint.
And then the Gospel story of Jesus coming right into the humble house of Peter’s mother in law, who had been laid low by a fever. Immediately. Mark’s favorite transition - IMMEDiately - they told Jesus about her and he went to her, took her hand and lifted her up.
What a great story for us to hold in our hearts as we walk through these mid-winter days.
Jesus took her by the hand and LIFTED HER UP! It’s better than that - this is the same word that is used by this Gospel writer about Jesus himself on Easter morning. He has been raised - lifted up. So Jesus is raising up this weary and fever worn person and lifting her into New Life!
How do we get lifted up? How does Jesus take our hands and raise our spirits - raise our lives to that next level? Well, the Spirit that lifts us and makes us soar is renewed in three different ways:
The first way of renewal is service to others -
Service
This isn’t “passed around the sandwiches and beers”. This is the same word Jesus uses to describe His own life’s purpose - “I have come not to be served, but to serve”. This is the measure of greatness Jesus holds out for his followers of every age - “The greatest of you must become the servant of all.” This is the challenge and the hope Martin Luther King captured when he said, “Any body can be great. Because any body can serve.”
How do you serve? It can be huge - giving up her job and possessions to help homeless people find homes. Or it can seem small - giving a few hours to cut homeless men’s hair. But it cannot BE small - because it is doing what we have been raised up by God to do. And at every stage of the Christian life, it is vital that we recognize and embrace the service we do. Hazel Mumm died this week. She was 104 years old and about as big as my right arm. She used to live across the street, but for the last 10 years or so she’s lived in the nursing home. By the time she got to 100, she was beginning to wonder about how long this show was going to go on. But she’d say, “As long as God gives me, I’m going to do what I can to help out.” She brought her bedridden hall mates water. She prayed - out loud- for the sick. She told the dying that there was nothing to fear, that God would take them home. And she just kept breathing. The last time I saw her was at the Philo Tavern. Her children were taking her out for lunch and she was drinking a beer. And she told me I should have one, too. That woman knew how to serve.
To be Lifted Up by Jesus is to be lifted up to a lifetime of service - whether that lifetime is 104 years or considerably less than that. One of the most exciting and rewarding aspects of our lives can be recognizing and fulfilling our call to service.
Two _ Lifted up for prayer.
Jesus was serving - healing diseases, casting out demons - and he slipped away. To pray. He raised himself up out of bed and headed out to some where where he could be alone with God. A life that soars like an eagle has to be balanced. It can’t be constant activity. There has to be time spent in quiet with God. Watch the soaring birds - they aren’t flapping flapping flapping all the time. The “eagles” of Isaiah’s poetry were big birds that perched on the edge of the rocky cliffs overlooking valleys, spread their wings and waited for the warm air to lift them and carry them aloft. Think of prayer as spreading your wings and waiting on the Lord.
And prayer is one of those things, those habits of the heart, that need renewal at times. Lent is an opportunity that the community of faith gives to each other to attend to this important element of our spiritual lives.
This Lent you are invited to undertake 40 days of renewal in prayer. I ordered a few copies of a book I think we’ll find encouraging - called “Praying with my Pen”. If you would like one, please let me know.
For Jesus, communion with God in prayer refocussed and renewed his spirit. It does the same for us. This week a friend shared a meditation by Mary Oliver that captures the experience of prayer in a somewhat unexpected way:
The Summer Day
Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean- the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention,
how to fall down
into the grass,
how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed,
how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
The third way of renewal and lifting up that the Gospel writer points us toward is to seek out new places and new people and new ways to share the message of Christ.
The disciples come to find Jesus, and they want to take him back to the scene of his recent triumph, and, incidentally, their home and the place they are most comfortable. One way that God renews his people is by taking us beyond our comfort zone and out into the wider world. That is certainly true for churches. We tend to think of this group and this place as our church home. And it is wonderful to share Christ here. But we are also called to go OUT and share God’s message of grace and love more widely. Jesus doesn’t suggest it. Jesus commands it.
Yesterday the Outreach Committee of this congregation met to outline plans for reaching out for the year ahead. They planned three events to reach new people with Christ’s love. And one continuing emphasis - for each one of us to invite one new person to participate in our life in the coming year. I’m going to be asking you this year - who have YOU told about what God is doing here? Who have you included in the Kingdom Life of this congregation?
Renewal and lifting up of the church happens when we have the courage to step out of our routine and into the outward and upward call of Christ.
The Good News of Jesus Christ is moving and active in this world.
The Spirit is still lifting up those who are weary and burdened by living. God is still strengthening us, individually and as a church body to walk and not be weary, to run and not faint.
Jesus is still taking us by the hand and lifting us up - in service, in prayer and in outreach.
As we come to the Table this morning, as we lift our hearts to God, the question we might ask ourselves is, this week -
How will we live the lifted life?
Isaiah 40: 21-31
Need a lift? I don’t mean a ride to the post office, but a lift for your spirits? A little wind beneath your wings? During these mostly grey, often damp and cold days of winter, I’ll admit that sometimes my spirits lag just a bit. So the words that shone out at me from the scripture lessons for this week were those beautiful words of promise - Those that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall rise up with wings like eagles. They shall walk and not be weary, they shall run and not faint.
And then the Gospel story of Jesus coming right into the humble house of Peter’s mother in law, who had been laid low by a fever. Immediately. Mark’s favorite transition - IMMEDiately - they told Jesus about her and he went to her, took her hand and lifted her up.
What a great story for us to hold in our hearts as we walk through these mid-winter days.
Jesus took her by the hand and LIFTED HER UP! It’s better than that - this is the same word that is used by this Gospel writer about Jesus himself on Easter morning. He has been raised - lifted up. So Jesus is raising up this weary and fever worn person and lifting her into New Life!
How do we get lifted up? How does Jesus take our hands and raise our spirits - raise our lives to that next level? Well, the Spirit that lifts us and makes us soar is renewed in three different ways:
The first way of renewal is service to others -
Service
This isn’t “passed around the sandwiches and beers”. This is the same word Jesus uses to describe His own life’s purpose - “I have come not to be served, but to serve”. This is the measure of greatness Jesus holds out for his followers of every age - “The greatest of you must become the servant of all.” This is the challenge and the hope Martin Luther King captured when he said, “Any body can be great. Because any body can serve.”
How do you serve? It can be huge - giving up her job and possessions to help homeless people find homes. Or it can seem small - giving a few hours to cut homeless men’s hair. But it cannot BE small - because it is doing what we have been raised up by God to do. And at every stage of the Christian life, it is vital that we recognize and embrace the service we do. Hazel Mumm died this week. She was 104 years old and about as big as my right arm. She used to live across the street, but for the last 10 years or so she’s lived in the nursing home. By the time she got to 100, she was beginning to wonder about how long this show was going to go on. But she’d say, “As long as God gives me, I’m going to do what I can to help out.” She brought her bedridden hall mates water. She prayed - out loud- for the sick. She told the dying that there was nothing to fear, that God would take them home. And she just kept breathing. The last time I saw her was at the Philo Tavern. Her children were taking her out for lunch and she was drinking a beer. And she told me I should have one, too. That woman knew how to serve.
To be Lifted Up by Jesus is to be lifted up to a lifetime of service - whether that lifetime is 104 years or considerably less than that. One of the most exciting and rewarding aspects of our lives can be recognizing and fulfilling our call to service.
Two _ Lifted up for prayer.
Jesus was serving - healing diseases, casting out demons - and he slipped away. To pray. He raised himself up out of bed and headed out to some where where he could be alone with God. A life that soars like an eagle has to be balanced. It can’t be constant activity. There has to be time spent in quiet with God. Watch the soaring birds - they aren’t flapping flapping flapping all the time. The “eagles” of Isaiah’s poetry were big birds that perched on the edge of the rocky cliffs overlooking valleys, spread their wings and waited for the warm air to lift them and carry them aloft. Think of prayer as spreading your wings and waiting on the Lord.
And prayer is one of those things, those habits of the heart, that need renewal at times. Lent is an opportunity that the community of faith gives to each other to attend to this important element of our spiritual lives.
This Lent you are invited to undertake 40 days of renewal in prayer. I ordered a few copies of a book I think we’ll find encouraging - called “Praying with my Pen”. If you would like one, please let me know.
For Jesus, communion with God in prayer refocussed and renewed his spirit. It does the same for us. This week a friend shared a meditation by Mary Oliver that captures the experience of prayer in a somewhat unexpected way:
The Summer Day
Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean- the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention,
how to fall down
into the grass,
how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed,
how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
The third way of renewal and lifting up that the Gospel writer points us toward is to seek out new places and new people and new ways to share the message of Christ.
The disciples come to find Jesus, and they want to take him back to the scene of his recent triumph, and, incidentally, their home and the place they are most comfortable. One way that God renews his people is by taking us beyond our comfort zone and out into the wider world. That is certainly true for churches. We tend to think of this group and this place as our church home. And it is wonderful to share Christ here. But we are also called to go OUT and share God’s message of grace and love more widely. Jesus doesn’t suggest it. Jesus commands it.
Yesterday the Outreach Committee of this congregation met to outline plans for reaching out for the year ahead. They planned three events to reach new people with Christ’s love. And one continuing emphasis - for each one of us to invite one new person to participate in our life in the coming year. I’m going to be asking you this year - who have YOU told about what God is doing here? Who have you included in the Kingdom Life of this congregation?
Renewal and lifting up of the church happens when we have the courage to step out of our routine and into the outward and upward call of Christ.
The Good News of Jesus Christ is moving and active in this world.
The Spirit is still lifting up those who are weary and burdened by living. God is still strengthening us, individually and as a church body to walk and not be weary, to run and not faint.
Jesus is still taking us by the hand and lifting us up - in service, in prayer and in outreach.
As we come to the Table this morning, as we lift our hearts to God, the question we might ask ourselves is, this week -
How will we live the lifted life?
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Epiphany Sermon/Story
Dream of a Different Way
by Cindy Shepherd
Matthew and I love dreams. I, too, believe that God sometimes uses our dreams to comfort and to guide us. This story is my attempt to imagine what the wise men dreamed which changed their plans after they saw and worshipped the Christ Child.
“Having had a dream . . . they returned by a different way.”
As he settled into bed after seeing the little king, Casper’s mind reviewed their journey. He was glad he had suggested they come. All three of the wise men had seen the star. All three had consulted their ancient book of heavenly wisdom. They had all agreed on the importance of the new king. But it was Casper who initiated the trip. It was Casper who had said, “Let’s go!”
His enthusiasm for the journey sprang from several motives: He wanted to take an active part in history-in-the-making. He craved adventure and enjoyed the fellowship of his friends, Balthazar and Melchoir. But, perhaps most important of all, Casper was anxious to get away from home.
To tell the truth, he had just had another disappointment from his parents. You see, Casper was at the stage in life when he felt ready to take a wife. He was about forty. Perhaps he had been ready for a few years. The trouble was that in the entire province, not one suitable woman could be found.
As he looked back, he realized that his parents had been finding faults and making excuses for years. His mother’s voice rang in his ears:
“This one has no social standing.”
“That girl’s dowry isn’t large enough.”
“She’s too mousy.”
“She’s too loud.”
Now, whenever Casper so much as noticed a woman, he heard the voice: “Casper, She won’t do! . . . “ It had happened again today, as the innkeeper’s lovely daughter held the door of the stable open for him. She was of marriageable age - strong, with beautiful eyes - and (his mother’s voice) “Casper! A foreigner?! You’ve got to be kidding, honey!”
Casper shook the voice out of his head and closed his eyes to sleep. And to dream.
In his dream, Capser found himself once again in the stable. Again, there was the beautiful baby, lying in a manger of hay. In his dream, the innkeeper’s daughter stood beside the quiet baby and she beckoned to Casper. He wnet to her, put his arm around her and, together, they gazed down at - Yes! It was THEIR sleeping infant. Casper’s heart was warm and filled with love.
And then he heard a voice - but NOT his mother’s voice - say, “Casper, don’t go back to Herod tomorrow. Stay here in Bethlehem and see what will be.”
And when Caper awoke the next morning, he remembered the dream.
Melchior, like Casper, had been glad to make the long trip to Bethlehem. He enjoyed the privilege of worshipping the newborn king. It was especially gratifying to be able to offer the gift of a treasure box of gold. The parents clearly needed the help. It made him feel good to do things like that - to use the wealth his high-status job earned him to do good.
When he knew he was doing good while he was doing well, Melchior’s conscience didn’t hurt him quite so badly. But he noticed that, lately, the moments when his staus gave him pleasure were getting few and farther between. He simply could not settle in and enjoy his position. Because he knew he didn’t deserve the prestige, the money . . . the job.
Melchior had a shameful secret, one he couldn’t bring himself to share, even with the other wisemen: His family had two sons and only enough money to send ONE to astrologer school. So the boys agreed that whoever scored highest on the S.A.T. - the Stargazer’s Aptitude Test - would get the truition. Melchior’s secret was that, when they took the test, he had cheated. He cheated his brother out of the chance to go to astrologer academy. Not Melchior was a hot shot wiseman, and his brother was a pots and pans dealer back in Syria. Melchior felt awful. He was a lout. He was a fraud. He was a dirty rotten cheater.
He had to quit thinking like that! Or he’d never get to sleep, and he and his friends had a long trip ahead of them. He told himself, “I’ve got to think of something positive. I’ll think of giving the gold to the baby.”
He closed his eyes to sleep. And to dream.
The stable door opened and Melchior staggered inside. There, across the straw strewn floor, was the rustic holy family. Mary. Joseph. The Child. Melchior advanced toward them, carrying his huge box of treasure. It was SO HEAVY!
The box seemed to have grown from the size of a shoe box to that of a coffin. Melchior could hardly carry it! What was going on? As he approached the child, it dawned on him. This box had no gold in it. It was filled with test papers, and cast iron pots and pans, and his poor brother. It was an entire box filled with Melchior’s shame and guilt. What an awful thing to give a baby! He needed to put it down. But he couldn’t.
Closer and closer his unwilling feet carried him to the manger, until the baby reached out a tiny, pudgy hand and took the hideous box from Melchior’s exhausted arms. It seemed no more than a rattle to him. The baby shook it, laughed and threw it to the corner of the stable. All the burden was gone.!
Then Melchior heard a voice, “Don’t go back to Herod. Go to your brother and make this thing right between you.”
And when he awoke, Melchior remembered his dream.
Balthazar had no trouble falling asleep. Especially when he’d completed an objective. Today, they found the little king of Israel. The star led them all the way. Watching stars came easily to Balthazar. He never had to work too hard, or study very much. And he made a lot of money. Even when you spent as much as he had recently on camels and myrrh, it was still a good living. Which was why, years ago, Balthazar decided to become an astrologer in the first place. It had surprised a few people. Everyone seemed to think he would become a musician. His aunt told him, “A voice like yours is a gift! You should sing! sing! sing!” But rather than study music, Balthazar had opted for the security of a professional career. Had he made the right choice? It seemed to have woked out, but Balthazar didn’t know.
He yawned and drifted off to sleep. And to dream.
The stable door opened and Balthazar slipped inside. What was that awful sound? WAAAAAAHHHH ! It was the baby. Crying. WaaaaAAAAAH!
Balthazar looked around. There was no one else there. No mother. No father. No servant. Nobody. So Balthazar scooped the red-faced infant into his arms and began to walk and to sing:
“Hush little baaby, don’t say a work. . . “ the crying slowed.
“Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird . . . “ The baby relaxed.
“If that mockingbird don’t sing. . . “ The newborn king’s eyelids drooped and closed.
He was sleeping in Balthazar’s arms, when Balthazar heard, “Don’t go back to Herod. You belong in a place I will show you.”
When he woke up, Balthazar remembered the dream.
As the three wise men packed their camels the next morning, they were strangely quiet.
Each one seemed to be in a spell cast by his cream. As the innkeeper’s daughter passed them in the stable yard, Casper was the first to break the silence. “Friends,” he announced, “I hope you won’t mind going on without me. The two of you can go back to Herod, can’t you? I believe I have some business here in Bethlehem.”
Balthazar readily agreed that Casper should stay.
Then Melchior, looking anxious, chimed in, “This is awkward because, you see, I too was hoping to be relieved from our responsibility to Herod on the trip back. I need to return directly to my home and straighten out some business with my brother. It is rather urgent, and I need to leave immediately.”
Balthazar was unfazed. “There is still no problem! I don’t mind traveling alone!”
The three bid one another ”God speed” and went their separate ways. Balthazar alone traveled the road back to Herod’s Jerusalem palace. But, before he got there, Balthazar saw an arrow shaped signpost by the side of the road:
“Red Sea School of Music - 10 M >”
Balthazar pulled on the reins and stopped his camel. A snippet of the dream came to his lips. “If that mockingbird don’t sing . . .” He sighed “Herod will simply have to understand.”
And he turned his camel and headed down a different road.
“And having a dream - they returned by a different way.”
Having met and worshiped the Christ, what do you dream?
This New Year, will your dreams lead you in a different way?
by Cindy Shepherd
Matthew and I love dreams. I, too, believe that God sometimes uses our dreams to comfort and to guide us. This story is my attempt to imagine what the wise men dreamed which changed their plans after they saw and worshipped the Christ Child.
“Having had a dream . . . they returned by a different way.”
As he settled into bed after seeing the little king, Casper’s mind reviewed their journey. He was glad he had suggested they come. All three of the wise men had seen the star. All three had consulted their ancient book of heavenly wisdom. They had all agreed on the importance of the new king. But it was Casper who initiated the trip. It was Casper who had said, “Let’s go!”
His enthusiasm for the journey sprang from several motives: He wanted to take an active part in history-in-the-making. He craved adventure and enjoyed the fellowship of his friends, Balthazar and Melchoir. But, perhaps most important of all, Casper was anxious to get away from home.
To tell the truth, he had just had another disappointment from his parents. You see, Casper was at the stage in life when he felt ready to take a wife. He was about forty. Perhaps he had been ready for a few years. The trouble was that in the entire province, not one suitable woman could be found.
As he looked back, he realized that his parents had been finding faults and making excuses for years. His mother’s voice rang in his ears:
“This one has no social standing.”
“That girl’s dowry isn’t large enough.”
“She’s too mousy.”
“She’s too loud.”
Now, whenever Casper so much as noticed a woman, he heard the voice: “Casper, She won’t do! . . . “ It had happened again today, as the innkeeper’s lovely daughter held the door of the stable open for him. She was of marriageable age - strong, with beautiful eyes - and (his mother’s voice) “Casper! A foreigner?! You’ve got to be kidding, honey!”
Casper shook the voice out of his head and closed his eyes to sleep. And to dream.
In his dream, Capser found himself once again in the stable. Again, there was the beautiful baby, lying in a manger of hay. In his dream, the innkeeper’s daughter stood beside the quiet baby and she beckoned to Casper. He wnet to her, put his arm around her and, together, they gazed down at - Yes! It was THEIR sleeping infant. Casper’s heart was warm and filled with love.
And then he heard a voice - but NOT his mother’s voice - say, “Casper, don’t go back to Herod tomorrow. Stay here in Bethlehem and see what will be.”
And when Caper awoke the next morning, he remembered the dream.
Melchior, like Casper, had been glad to make the long trip to Bethlehem. He enjoyed the privilege of worshipping the newborn king. It was especially gratifying to be able to offer the gift of a treasure box of gold. The parents clearly needed the help. It made him feel good to do things like that - to use the wealth his high-status job earned him to do good.
When he knew he was doing good while he was doing well, Melchior’s conscience didn’t hurt him quite so badly. But he noticed that, lately, the moments when his staus gave him pleasure were getting few and farther between. He simply could not settle in and enjoy his position. Because he knew he didn’t deserve the prestige, the money . . . the job.
Melchior had a shameful secret, one he couldn’t bring himself to share, even with the other wisemen: His family had two sons and only enough money to send ONE to astrologer school. So the boys agreed that whoever scored highest on the S.A.T. - the Stargazer’s Aptitude Test - would get the truition. Melchior’s secret was that, when they took the test, he had cheated. He cheated his brother out of the chance to go to astrologer academy. Not Melchior was a hot shot wiseman, and his brother was a pots and pans dealer back in Syria. Melchior felt awful. He was a lout. He was a fraud. He was a dirty rotten cheater.
He had to quit thinking like that! Or he’d never get to sleep, and he and his friends had a long trip ahead of them. He told himself, “I’ve got to think of something positive. I’ll think of giving the gold to the baby.”
He closed his eyes to sleep. And to dream.
The stable door opened and Melchior staggered inside. There, across the straw strewn floor, was the rustic holy family. Mary. Joseph. The Child. Melchior advanced toward them, carrying his huge box of treasure. It was SO HEAVY!
The box seemed to have grown from the size of a shoe box to that of a coffin. Melchior could hardly carry it! What was going on? As he approached the child, it dawned on him. This box had no gold in it. It was filled with test papers, and cast iron pots and pans, and his poor brother. It was an entire box filled with Melchior’s shame and guilt. What an awful thing to give a baby! He needed to put it down. But he couldn’t.
Closer and closer his unwilling feet carried him to the manger, until the baby reached out a tiny, pudgy hand and took the hideous box from Melchior’s exhausted arms. It seemed no more than a rattle to him. The baby shook it, laughed and threw it to the corner of the stable. All the burden was gone.!
Then Melchior heard a voice, “Don’t go back to Herod. Go to your brother and make this thing right between you.”
And when he awoke, Melchior remembered his dream.
Balthazar had no trouble falling asleep. Especially when he’d completed an objective. Today, they found the little king of Israel. The star led them all the way. Watching stars came easily to Balthazar. He never had to work too hard, or study very much. And he made a lot of money. Even when you spent as much as he had recently on camels and myrrh, it was still a good living. Which was why, years ago, Balthazar decided to become an astrologer in the first place. It had surprised a few people. Everyone seemed to think he would become a musician. His aunt told him, “A voice like yours is a gift! You should sing! sing! sing!” But rather than study music, Balthazar had opted for the security of a professional career. Had he made the right choice? It seemed to have woked out, but Balthazar didn’t know.
He yawned and drifted off to sleep. And to dream.
The stable door opened and Balthazar slipped inside. What was that awful sound? WAAAAAAHHHH ! It was the baby. Crying. WaaaaAAAAAH!
Balthazar looked around. There was no one else there. No mother. No father. No servant. Nobody. So Balthazar scooped the red-faced infant into his arms and began to walk and to sing:
“Hush little baaby, don’t say a work. . . “ the crying slowed.
“Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird . . . “ The baby relaxed.
“If that mockingbird don’t sing. . . “ The newborn king’s eyelids drooped and closed.
He was sleeping in Balthazar’s arms, when Balthazar heard, “Don’t go back to Herod. You belong in a place I will show you.”
When he woke up, Balthazar remembered the dream.
As the three wise men packed their camels the next morning, they were strangely quiet.
Each one seemed to be in a spell cast by his cream. As the innkeeper’s daughter passed them in the stable yard, Casper was the first to break the silence. “Friends,” he announced, “I hope you won’t mind going on without me. The two of you can go back to Herod, can’t you? I believe I have some business here in Bethlehem.”
Balthazar readily agreed that Casper should stay.
Then Melchior, looking anxious, chimed in, “This is awkward because, you see, I too was hoping to be relieved from our responsibility to Herod on the trip back. I need to return directly to my home and straighten out some business with my brother. It is rather urgent, and I need to leave immediately.”
Balthazar was unfazed. “There is still no problem! I don’t mind traveling alone!”
The three bid one another ”God speed” and went their separate ways. Balthazar alone traveled the road back to Herod’s Jerusalem palace. But, before he got there, Balthazar saw an arrow shaped signpost by the side of the road:
“Red Sea School of Music - 10 M >”
Balthazar pulled on the reins and stopped his camel. A snippet of the dream came to his lips. “If that mockingbird don’t sing . . .” He sighed “Herod will simply have to understand.”
And he turned his camel and headed down a different road.
“And having a dream - they returned by a different way.”
Having met and worshiped the Christ, what do you dream?
This New Year, will your dreams lead you in a different way?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)