It's This Or Go Crazy

New Blog Underway

2011-02-01T09:43:00.000-08:00

Howdy all:

Been a while, how have you all been? Just a word for those who may not know. I have a new blog

Upon Further Review

fpcsalina.blogspot.com

Please come visit

Sermon Blog

2010-11-24T08:27:00.000-08:00

Just a reminder that my sermon blog is updating and can be found at

hawleysermons.blogspot.com

thanks. New Blog to come in 2011!

Meditation for World Communion Sunday

2010-10-03T18:14:00.001-07:00

Luke 17:5-10

When I first read our Gospel reading this week my first response was, “there has to be something better than this.” After all, it is World Communion Sunday and this is not very Communion like. The temptation was strong to saunter over to the Gospel of John and Jesus words about the true vine, or perhaps simply read from the Last Supper.

But the Lectionary exists for a reason, or reasons, and one of them is to bring out attention to bear on passages of Scripture we would just as soon leave alone. Here Jesus appears to be comparing the disciples to slaves of the master who have no right to claim preference but must, in fact, wait like the family dog to eat last and to acknowledge that all of the hard work and effort is not worthy of praise but, rather, is nothing more than duty. There is no “thank you” here for the all the effort. No “well done, good and faithful servant,” like we read elsewhere. We all like praise and there are not many of us, this side of Mr. Spock, who say “why do you thank me? I merely do my duty.”

This perplexing saying comes at the end of a series of four sayings, only two of which we read this morning. Luke 17:1-10 forms a unit of sayings, the first two have to do with not being the cause of stumbling for new converts to the faith. The second concerns forgiving the penitent. These sayings sufficiently frighten the disciples who believe themselves incapable of living up to this expectation. So they, understandably, ask Jesus to “increase their faith”.

This is something we all tend to do. When confronted with what seems a taunting task, we put the responsibility back on the one presenting the challenge. I remember when Amy Jo and I were considering relocating in 1999. We were reading Church Information Forms. A great many of them would spell out the difficulties and challenges of their current ministries and then they would say, “We need a minister who will motivate us to get to work.” They were saying, as the disciples were saying, “increase our faith.” Children, while in the process of learning to responsible, often do the same thing. When confronted with a task or a home chore, they will respond that the parent has somehow been deficient in the transaction. How can I clean my room when you haven’t….. I can’t take out the trash because the you never brought the bin back from the street.

The disciples say to Jesus, increase our faith. How can we be expected to be responsible to the calling of the Kingdom of God as we are? If you want us to do all these things then you have to make it possible for us. Jesus responds to the disciples in this way: “If you had the faith the size of a mustard seed, you could uproot a tree.” In the Greek language there are two uses of this phrase. One reflects a condition contrary to fact: “If you were a bird”. The other reflects a condition according to fact: If Jesus is Lord. This usage is the second usage. In other words, Jesus says If you have the faith of a mustard seed (and you do)…. The problem, therefore, is not that the disciples lack the necessary faith. The problem seems to be that the disciples do not accept responsibility for the faith that they have and the work they are called to do.

Having said that, it provides some perspective on the last of Jesus’ four sayings here presented. When I first read it I was not sure it was a good choice for World Communion Sunday. It seems a bit nasty. After all, we come to the table because we have been invited by our Lord. And here in this parable the opposite is the case. The slave is not invited first but, rather, must prepare supper for the master and eat later with the family dog. But as with all of Jesus’ sayings, this parable as a specific purpose and it is related to the question of responsibility. Our faith is sufficient—we have our orders—get on with it. In the same manner that we want to deflect responsibility to others, so also we want reward for doing what is basic human responsibility. First we do not want to do what is ask of us. And if we do, we want to be lifted up as special for having done it. Jesus is telling the disciples and us that the Kingdom of God is not going to work that way. What we need we have been given. Faith. Grace. Forgiveness. What we need to do has been shown to us. Take what we have been given, do the work for the kingdom of God and all will be well.

And even though we are invited to this table by our Lord, we are not the first to eat of it. As Jesus asks his disciples in another setting, can you drink from the cup from which I drink? It is because Jesus goes before us that we are able to sit at this table. It is because Jesus is the bread of life and the cup of salvation that this sacrament has meaning. We do come in response to Christ’s invitation—filled with sufficient faith—and having been filled with spiritual nourishment—are returned for our work in the Kingdom of God.

If we have the faith of a mustard seed. We do. Then we can do whatever the Kingdom requires. And we should. And then we eat. Only not as worthless slaves. We come together as children in the family of God.

Transition

2010-09-29T09:26:00.000-07:00

Hello Blogging Friends,

I will be starting a new job in November. I have been called to be Lead Pastor/Head of Staff of the First Presbyterian Church in Salina, Kansas.

As such, my time these days is taken up with saying good by to good friends and trying to get a house ready for sale. So I don't imagine I will blog much apart from posting whatever sermons I have left in my current position.

I anticipate starting a blog as part of the church's website in Salina, Kansas. This will happen in November.

If you are interested, you can check out the new church at fpcsalina.org.

Thanks.....

Jim

Buying Hope in a Down Market

2010-09-25T09:45:00.000-07:00

Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15

1 Timothy 6:6-19

We have all heard a lot about the economy, the housing market, no jobs. In some cases we have heard more than we want, in other cases we don’t feel enough is being done. But I am sure that the residents of Judah in 588 BCE would say quit your griping. You see, they had bigger problems. The city of Jerusalem was surrounded by a huge army under the command of Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon. And they were breathing fire and had murder in their eyes.

This was not the first time King N had come Judah’s way. After the death of Josiah, one of Judah’s few good kings, Egypt took charge of the region and held Judah as a vassal state. But there was a new bully on the block, and its name was Babylon. When it appeared that Babylon might conquer Egypt, the king of Judah sided with Babylon. The forces of Egypt and Babylon met on the battle field and the result was inconclusive, although both sides suffered heavy losses. Each went home, licking its wounds. In the period of relative calm, Judah tried to reassert its independence. Although Egypt was a worthy foe, Babylon had no regard for Judah’s bit of arrogance and decided to take a victory where it could. So the Babylonian army surrounded Jerusalem, this time dedicated to teach Judah one full and final lesson. No longer satisfied with tribute, Nebuchadnezzar was intent on razing Jerusalem to the ground.

The prophet Jeremiah had seen this coming for a long time. He spent a considerable amount of time in the presence of the king with a simple question: Where is God in all of this? Jeremiah denounced the worldly politics of the monarchy. Why make alliances with Egypt, Babylon, or anyone else? We have made an alliance with God. We are God’s people! Trust and hope in the Lord God! Isaiah had tried the same advice in his day with similar results. No one listened. No one cared. In fact, Jeremiah made such a pest of himself that he was imprisoned. And now his words of wisdom suddenly sounded wiser than before. The armies of Babylon raged, and God was silent. The end had come.

It is at this point that we join our reading for this morning. Jeremiah is in prison, the city is collapsing around him. Here is the chance for him to say, “I told you so!” Here he might derive some satisfaction from circumstances that vindicate his claim that God alone is worthy of loyalty and covenant. But Jeremiah receives a different word from the Lord. The Lord tells him to buy real estate.

It is truly a credit to Jeremiah that he did not go all Job on God and ask what kind of help that was? True, the city was certainly about to become a buyer’s market, but unfortunately there was not going to be anything left to buy. Except land. And the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah that his cousin would be along in a little bit with an offer to let Jeremiah redeem some land, which was his by law to redeem.

Not only does Jeremiah decide to buy the land, but we are told that he made a very public display of it. He had witnesses. Baruch was told to talk it up. The deeds were placed in an earthenware jar—much like the jars in which the Dead Sea Scrolls were found, which tells you something of their capacity to preserve—for the Lord of Hosts says that “houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land.”

That is really quite a proclamation. No wonder most people thought prophets were simply mad. What could be crazier than a man in prison buying a field in a land about to be devastated by the enemy? Clearly Jeremiah is out of his mind, so we might as well dismiss everything else he says at the same time.

But to approach Jeremiah’s action this way is to miss the point of his witness. For Jeremiah was not buying land. He was buying hope. Jeremiah had run out of warnings. The time had passed for action rooted in faith. The fall of Jerusalem was irreversible. The collapse of the temple was inescapable. The time had come for an even more amazing prophecy than the doom of the people. The Word of the Lord was a Word of hope. This calamity, as horrific as it was, would not be the last word.

It was also a way in which Jeremiah could make essentially the same point as the one he tried to make before the siege began. God is not the temple. God is not the King’s palace. God is not the well being of the land and the wealth of the establishment. God is God and we are God’s people. When the buildings are gone, when the wealth is destroyed, when the temple is razed and when the King’s palace is in ruin—God is still God. And the people are still God’s people. This relationship cannot be severed by the enemy. Only our earthly treasures we cling to can be destroyed by the enemy. Our relationship with God is a relationship. When the smoke clears and the enemy withdraws, the relationship will be there still. And land and houses and vineyards will again by bought in the land. This is the nature of Christian hope.

And I say Christian hope because Jeremiah’s understanding is brought into the New Testament through Jesus, Paul, and other New Testament texts. According to the theologians who interpreted the fall of Judah, the calamity was brought on by the failure of the leaders of the land to place the covenant with God above other concerns. These other concerns had much to do with their own acquisition of and display of wealth and power. In order to acquire wealth and power, it was necessary to disregard the needs of many people of the land. For example, the ruling King of Judah at the time of the city’s destruction tore down his father’s palace to big an even bigger one, and he used forced slavery to build it.

The relationship of wealth to God flows throughout the New Testament. Jesus talks about money more than any other subject. James warns the church about placing more concern on placating the rich than caring for the poor. Paul brings the matter up repeatedly, including this passage from 1 Timothy. Its hard to find a more plainly stated example than this: But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. We are hard pressed to find a better summation of our current times than this. But this observation is merely the diagnosis, not the cure. The cure is found in these words: pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness. The implication is clear: pursuit of such things as these will not lead to success by the standards of the material and wealth hungry world. So what success follows such behavior? The blessing of living in right relationship with God, who will provide everything for our enjoyment.

This passage contains one of the most familiar but misquoted verses in the New Testament. Paul writes to Timothy that the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. This observation is commonly misread as "money is the root of all evil". But this is not what Paul says. Paul says the love of money is the root. Money itself is not the problem. Consider how this passage ends. The rich are commanded not to liquidate their assets, but to but them to good use. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous and ready to share. I know of no pastors who do not wish for a church full of generous, sharing, rich people.

Set your hope, Paul says, on God who provides for our needs and not in the uncertainty of riches. Jeremiah was saying the same thing, only with his public real estate transaction rather than with words. The point is the same—true hope is hope in God and of God’s relationship and promises to us, not in the acquisition of money and material wealth.

This is not to say that wealth is evil. It is a question of orientation. Warren Buffet and Bill Gates are the great philanthropists of this generation. Facebook founder Mark Zuckerman gave 100 million dollars to New Jersey Schools. Some believe this was an act to counter the negative impression the recently released movie may create…but I think most teachers around here would not worry about that if they could have education enhanced in this way. And speaking of movies, Gordon Gecko is back on Wall Street. I know very little about the new movie but many of us remember the iconic comment from the Wall Street movie from the 1980s--- Greed is Good. This attitude is alive and well today and responsible for many of the economic hardships of our day.

Hope is not anti-wealth, it is anti-greed. Wealth can be a spiritual gift like any other and, like all spiritual gifts, is meant not for personal gain but for the up-building of the community. After all, you cannot buy houses and land and vineyards with assets. Jeremiah is not advocating homelessness. He is advocating a relationship rooted in God, faithful to God, solely reliant on God. Paul and Jeremiah together are encouraging us to let this hope be the foundation of our future, and to take hold of the life that really is life.

Haiku Wednesday

2010-09-15T08:29:00.000-07:00

This week's challenge: Food

Do you hesitate

to reach for the margarine

hidden in the back

behind the ketchup

and something long forgotten

while what used to be

grapes spill like raisins

onto the floor as raindrops

past the orange glow

of an ancient waste

similar to what awaits

in the margarine

which might be rather

a lichened tundra of memory

of Thanksgiving last.

High Achiever

2010-09-11T12:06:00.001-07:00

Mr. Jones from Gainesville says,

“We feel that whenever we started this out, one of our reasons was to show, to expose that there is an element of Islam is very dangerous and very radical,” he said. “I feel that we have definitely accomplished that mission.”

I feel Mr. Jones is being unduly modest. He has exposed that there is an element in any religion that is very dangerous and very radical. He has helped illustrate one of my central tenants: Much of what passes for religion is really mental illness.

Why it is Hard to Make Progress

2010-09-10T19:14:00.000-07:00

Muslims in this country, and around the world, complain that when they see protesters near ground zero or the dude in Florida they feel "demonized as a people" for the actions of a few.

When I see Muslims in other lands burning flags and holding signs denouncing America, I feel demonized as a people for the actions of a few.

A man in Florida wants to burn a sacred symbol of Islam.

Because they are angry at the man for threatening to burn their sacred symbol , Muslims overseas burn a sacred symbol of America.

Because Timmy pushed Johnny on the playground, Johnny pushed Timmy.

You have heard it said, "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I say do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.

The Power of the Book

2010-09-09T13:13:00.001-07:00

Ok... for the moment let's bracket the events in Gainesville. Let's take a step back and a broader question.....

What is it about books?

Mr. Jones is not the first person to ever dream up the idea of burning books. It is an old practice. They used to do it to people, too, although that is a somewhat different question. But I think it is related.

Why burn books? What does book burning represent? And, why are we bothered by book burning?

Ray Bradbury, whose novel Fahrenheit 451 explores the subject, had this reflection on his novel which appeared in the 1987 mass market paperback:

There is more than one way to burn a book. And the world is full of people running about with lit matches. Every minority, be it Baptist / Unitarian, Irish / Italian / Octogenarian / Zen Buddhist / Zionist / Seventh-day Adventist / Women's Lib / Republican / Mattachine / FourSquareGospel feels it has the will, the right, the duty to douse the kerosene, light the fuse….Fire-Captain Beatty, in my novel Fahrenheit 451, described how the books were burned first by the minorities, each ripping a page or a paragraph from this book, then that, until the day came when the books were empty and the minds shut and the library closed forever.

Books contain ideas. And ideas have always been dangerous. But ideas also exist in other forms, other media. The internet is full of ideas. But books are unique in two significant ways.

The are permanent. They embody accountability.

Once something is printed, it is there, in the world. Television programs come and go. Internets sites can be taken down. But books sit on shelves. Ancient writings are still in print. Ancient talk over the fence long since drifted away. But writings stay around. Ideas stay around. And when ideas are committed to print, they might be read. And if they are read, they might provoke thought. And if thought is provoked, who can say where the chaos and anarchy might end?

Not every book can be traced to its author. But, by and large, books and their authors are inseparable. Even Soren Kierkegaard, who utilized a variety of pseudonyms, could not separate his responsibility as creator from the texts he created.

In today’s world of social media and electronic communication, there seems little need for many to associate themselves with the words they produce. Whether this is a good thing is a matter of debate. But a book and its author are known. The writer is responsible for his words. I still believe that is a good thing.

So what about burning? The number of books, and the historical periods in which they were burned, are too many to mention. Perhaps at root is the perennial reality of human fear. Fear on what is different. Fear of change. Those in power fear the challenge to power. Those whose world view is carefully and fearfully constructed are afraid of learning or ideas that challenge the world view. If we destroy the idea, it does not exist. If we destroy the one who brought the idea, it does not exist. Ultimately it is about control. We desire to control that which we cannot control. But we can burn or destroy that which represents what we cannot control. And so we do. We censor, burn, destroy, execute.

But the book is not the idea---or the reality. The book only points toward the reality. They might have burned Galileo but that would not have made him wrong. You can burn Das Kapital but that does not make Marx’s observations less cogent. You can burn To Kill a Mockingbird but that doesn’t remove racism.

I understand why Muslims are offended at the burning of the Koran. I know why Christians would be upset if Bibles were burned. Many people are disturbed when flags and other symbols are burned.

But a book is just a book. A symbol is just a symbol. What the book and the symbol point to cannot be burned, executed, or destroyed. Ideas are immortal, even if the earthly body in which they live is destroyed.

While on the Subject

2010-09-06T06:37:00.000-07:00

of science and religion.... here is another piece on the subject

A Sympathetic View of Beck

2010-09-05T07:02:00.000-07:00

I have posted an article or two of skepticism surrounding Glenn Beck's recent march on Washington. So in fairness I want to draw your attention to a sympathetic piece written by Taylor Branch for the New York Times. Branch is a Pulitzer Prize winner for his three volume history of the civil rights era.

You can link the article here.

Stephen Hawkings' Amazing Revelation

2010-09-04T06:07:00.000-07:00

Physicist Stephen Hawking has a new book. According to press reports Hawking answers the definitive question--- GOD IS NOT NECESSARY FOR THE CREATION OF THE UNIVERSE!!!!

Oh dear, what shall we do? All is lost!!! Centuries of writing on science and religion--- centuries of religious faith--- all gone, all wasted.

Because Stephen Hawking says God is not necessary.

Seriously, if this is what sells books I should have thought of that long ago. Of course God is not NECESSARY to understand the universe and its origins. You think Hawking is the first physicist to ever state that the Big Bang is simply the inevitable result of the laws of physics? I know of a certain Cosmology textbook in which the first chapter pretty much differentiates between religious "myth" and science. And it is also available on Amazon! (But it is WAY more expensive)

However, just because Hawking (or anyone else) says God was not necessary for the creation of the universe, this does not mean they are right. The word "necessary" implies an either/or which is not called for. Perhaps, as faith would have it, God is at the heart of the creation of the universe. Perhaps not. But necessary? This sounds like a marketing word. But there is a more important point here. This rhetoric (I have not read his book so do not know all of what Hawking says) diverts us from what I think is a more significant matter. Creation is not an either/or with God and science. We need to be clear as to what "creation" we are talking about.

The Bible does attribute creative powers to God. Beyond the obvious Genesis references, the prophets, such as Isaiah, invoked God's universe creating persona as a way of inducing the people to return to the covenant. After the exiles in Babylon grew accustomed to their new life, the prophetic wing of the faith felt obliged to remind them that, of all the gods at their disposal, only one was capable of creating the heavens and the earth. But this was not a matter of physics, it was a matter of pre-eminance. This claim that God is the Creating God was to differentiate Yahweh from any number of social and cultural gods which vied for the attention of the people. This was a matter of idolatry, not of physics.

Did Jesus ever wonder why he did not just float out into space? Surely an apple fell on his head at least once. Why did that not lead him to think about gravity centuries before Isaac Newton? Perhaps because his attention was diverted by the question of why religious leaders where exploiting the people for their own sakes? He seemed more interested in why people were captive to injustice and disease than why they were captive to gravity. When asked what the greatest of the laws was, Jesus did not respond with the laws of physics. He responded with the laws of ethics. To love one's neighbor as oneself.

In the beginning was the Word. All things were created through the Word. So says the Gospel of John. Now we could spend a lot of time parsing the word Word--its LOGOS origins-- but it is sufficient to say that the Word is, well, the Word. In the beginning was the Word--language, thought, idea. And all things are created through Word. Cat becomes Cat by naming it Cat. Tree becomes Tree by naming it Tree. Language builds and creates world. This is good insofar as we can tell the difference between and cat and a dog. It is bad when language creates a world that is racist, hateful, unjust. If you don't believe that language can create world than you haven't been paying attention to political advertisements, 24/7 cable news and right wing talk radio.

Christianity is a faith rooted in the world creation of the Word. And the Word is not a physical principle, a first cause, or a big bang. The Word is a man--Jesus Christ--who came not to argue with Stephen Hawking but to dwell among us with grace and truth and to witness the love for the Cosmos that God intends. I feel God is necessary for such world creation as this. For the world we inhabit is a world that is created in and around our perception of it, the language we use to describe it, and the communication we use to relate to it and each other. If that is to be a world of mutual love and justice--God is, indeed, necessary.

All of which has nothing to do with the Big Bang.

Wednesday Haiku- Secrets

2010-09-01T14:55:00.001-07:00

I have been out of the loop for a bit on the Haikus.... but here is an effort based upon today's theme.... secrets. This event sponsored by youknowthatblog.com.

Quiet....come closer
bend your knee and lend your ear
I have a secret

It is worse than that
There is no gain in guessing
Do not draw your breath

your eyes dialate
Good! They need to claim the light
Hold on to hope's thread

and strike a balance
as my words like coal darken
what's left of your dreams

The secret? Ah, yes,
I nearly forgot to share
but now it is late

And the secret waits
nocturnal instinct aroused
behind every bush

Five Guidelines to Rational Thinking

2010-09-01T14:47:00.001-07:00

I was going through a box of old papers and memoribilia from my father's past when I came across a small card, upon which were typed Five Guidelines to Rational Thinking. I have no idea of thier origin, or why specifically my father kept this card. I do not know if they are his guidelines or borrowed from another. In any event, I post them here for whatever value they may have. After all, anything that promotes us to better rational thinking is ok in my book.

1. Is this thought based on objective reality?

2. Does this thought help me to protect my life?

3. Does this thought help me to reach my short and long-term goals?

4. Does this thought prevent significant conflict with others?

5. Does this thought help me to feel the way I want to feel?

Incidentally... I have gone over 5000 page views since I started earlier this year. Don't know what that means, exactly, but it sounds significant.

The Individual or the Crowd?

2010-08-31T07:50:00.001-07:00

A well put piece from Stanley Fish in today's NYT.

Click Here.

How Not to Make an Argument

2010-08-30T12:50:00.000-07:00

For a few semesters I taught college freshman composition. I was not entirely well suited to the job, but I did take a certain pride in promoting something important to me--the necessity of critical thinking, discerning intellectual distinctions, and of making a credible argument.

Conservative commentator Cal Thomas offers us an example of how not to do this. Thomas writes on Foxnews.com that the civil rights movement was "hijacked" by sources other than Glenn Beck. Yet after making the unsupported claim that "liberal Democrats keep African-American children locked up in underperforming schools", Thomas provides a vague list of social ills afflicting African Americans. He then follows with a sweeping generalization concerning what "Conservatives" support and what "Liberals" support. Finally, without any reference to the above, Thomas blames Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and Eleanor Holmes Norton for hijacking the civil rights movement.

Keep hope alive! Thomas cries, ending his piece.

It is hard to keep hope alive when this sort of thing passes for
a. Thoughtful
b. Informed
c. Critical (in the best use of the term)

It is an interesting question, however, as to who gets to define things. The power to define has long been associated with the ruling class. Martin Luther King and his followers claimed the right to define Black experience in America. This definition was at odds, obviously, with the position of the privleged white majority. Today my question surrounding the Glenn Beck controversy is--who is allowed to define "civil rights movement"? Does the definition change over time? Critics of Beck claim that he is taking a movement which was defined by Black experience and twisting it into a label white, tea party conservatives. How fluent are the definitions and to what degree does history matter in this debate?

In any event, we need to do better than Cal Thomas.

Arson and Civil Rights

2010-08-29T14:32:00.000-07:00

I am sorry to bring this up again. The irony cannot be ignored.

USA Today reports that Federal officials are investigating as arson a fire at a mosque in Tennessee. This is reminiscent of the arson targeting Black churches in the south in the time of Martin Luther King, Jr.

And one of the loudest voices against Islam.... one of the loudest voices fanning the flames (pun intended) of discrimination against Muslims.....one of the loudest voices on a network of loud voices heaping daily innuendo on mosques as being nothing more than terrorist cells.....

That voice.... Glenn Beck.... Sarah Palin.... stood where Martin Luther King, Jr. stood (down slightly) talking about reclaiming America for God.

And in the afterglow of such warm, religious sentiment.... someone who no doubt loves Fox News and Glenn Beck... tried to burn down a Mosque.

Overheard At Rev. Beck's Religious Revival

2010-08-28T14:57:00.000-07:00

Becky Benson, 56, traveled from Orlando, Fla., because, she said, “we believe in Jesus Christ, and he is our savior.” Jesus, she said, would not have agreed with what she called the redistribution of wealth in the form of the economic stimulus package, bank bailouts and welfare. “You cannot sit and expect someone to hand out to you,” she said. “You don’t spend your way out of debt.” (NYT)

"When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your kinsmen or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just" Jesus- Luke 14

On the Dangers of Giving Bibles to Children

2010-08-28T08:46:00.000-07:00

Luke 14: 1, 7-14

It is the sacred calling of the preacher to crack the hard shell of Scripture so that the people may feast upon its meat.

Well, maybe that is not quite the way to put it. But it is true that the preacher’s primary job is to open up texts from scripture for the congregation. The preacher is to make the Bible “relevant” or “applicable” to the flock. But in so doing the preacher seldom talks about the Bible itself. The Bible as an object of study seems more appropriate to—well, Bible study. Rather, we hear short snippets from one or more of the Bible’s sixty-six books each Sunday. The end result is much like attempting to understand a quilt but looking each week at one of the squares. If we have a good memory we can get an idea of what the whole might look like. Otherwise we simply admire a given square.

Today we shall depart from this model, somewhat, and spend some time thinking about the Bible as a whole. More specifically, we will reflect on how the Scripture plays an important role in Scripture itself, and how we might understand the role of Scripture in our faith lives. And the occasion for this scrutiny is the presentation of Bibles to our third-graders. Now these are real Bibles we are handing out. These are not Children’s Bibles or abridged New Testaments. This is the whole Word, the whole nut, if you like. And if you are going to hand the whole nut to third-graders, you had better be ready with a nut-cracker. Or, to be less metaphoric, if we are going to give Bibles to children we had best be prepared to help them understand it.

I am reminded of the story in Acts where Phillip comes across an Ethiopian reading the prophet Isaiah. He is reading this passage—“As a sheep led to the slaughter of a lamb before its shearer is dumb, so he opens is mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him.” Phillip wants to know if the Ethiopian understands what he is reading. “How can I," he replies, "without someone to help me?”

And this is the position our children are in. How can they understand what they are reading without someone to help them? And guess who that someone is? It is you—parents, grandparents, LOGOS teachers, adult guardians of our children’s spiritual life. And yes, the pastors. But the statement, “ask the pastors that question” is not a good long-term solution, and it sends the message that only “religious professionals” interpret the Bible. This is an idea the reformers fought against.

Because that used to be the way it was. In the days before the Protestant Reformation the Church controlled the Scriptures. The language of scripture was Latin which the average Christian could not read. Because the average Christian good not read the Bible, the Church told them what the Bible said---selectively, of course. Before the Reformation there were those who wanted the Bible released from captivity—translated to common languages and read by many. But the Church resisted this demand. The parallel occurrence of the Protestant Reformation and the invention of the printing press eventually put the Bible in the hands of people. But still there was a problem. The people could read it, but what did it mean?

So here is our conundrum. The Bible should be read by everyone, but the Bible is not easy to understand. So we need religious professionals—theologians, Bible Scholars, educated pastors—to help us understand. But these people, helpful though they are, should not decide for us. So in the end the reading and understanding of Scripture is a collaborative effort, a communal effort. It is enhanced by those educated in the ways of interpretation. It is enhanced by the freshness and honesty brought to the text by the practicing Christian.

So today we welcome these third-graders to the community of Bible readers. It is a new adventure for them. But it is a serious matter, giving Bibles to children. Because they might actually read it. And as they grow in the faith, as they gain more and more life experience, as they thoughtfully apply the Scripture to their lives, amazing things might start to happen. This is what happened to Jesus, according to Luke’s story.

Luke tells us that Jesus started his bible study as a young man. Not as a third-grader, more of a middle-schooler. But there he was, in the temple, at age 12, engaged in a give and take with the teachers who were very impressed by him.

The next thing Luke tells us is that the 12 year old Jesus has grown into a 30 year old Jesus and he is back in the Synagogue, only this time in his home town of Nazareth. Jesus reads the prophet Isaiah to the gathering and they are pleased with him. But then Jesus goes on to talk of another part of Scripture—the story from the book of Kings when the prophets of Israel bring their curative power to people outside of Israel. This so enrages the people that they attempt to throw Jesus off the cliff. I hope, when our third graders come back in twenty years with their biblical insights we give them a warmer reception. But the point is this: when we become immersed in the Bible we discover that a lot of people who say they are Bible people really don’t have any idea what is in it—or simply have chosen to ignore a vast amount of what is in it. This tends to lead to uncomfortable situations.

Like in today’s text. Jesus is invited to eat at the home of the leader of the Pharisees. Now the Pharisees were experts in the law. They knew their Scripture. And how much more so should a leader of the Pharisees know the Scripture. So Jesus is startled, perhaps (then again, probably not as this is not his first Pharisee dinner) to see everyone jockeying for the places of honor at the dinner. The advice that Jesus gives is not simply practical, it is Scripture. Proverbs 25. “Do not put yourself forward in the king’s presence or stand in the place that is great; for it is better to be told, “Come up here,” than to be put lower in the presence of the prince.”

So Jesus is not simply suggesting a way to avoid embarrassment. Jesus is confronting the religious leaders with their own Scripture, the command to be humble and not seek honor for oneself. And then Jesus tells them another parable, this one about inviting the poor and the lame, the blind and the crippled. This, too, is a summary of Scripture. It is, in fact, similar to the scripture that Jesus read to the home folks that nearly go him killed. For Isaiah says that the good news is to be preached to the poor, the blind, those who are oppressed. Jesus is reminding the Pharisees, again, of what their Scriptures teach. You see, Jesus was not irritating because he had all these radical new ideas, he was irritating because he confronting the privileged with their own Scripture, with the Bible they claimed to know, follow and protect.

Not that the Pharisees gave in easily—or at all. They had a pretty good idea themselves what Scripture was about. Much like the people back in Jesus’ home church who presumed to know more about the Bible then Jesus did. And today we find the same debates, the same competing claims. Whether or not the Pharisees were correct in their interpretations, they possessed the power to enforce them. Which is why Jesus was crucified. But Jesus was also raised from the dead by the glory and power of God. So if we are deadlocked between Jesus’ understanding of the Bible and the Pharisees' understanding of the Bible, I would say the resurrection is a tie-breaker.

What is more, if we help our children with their Bible discoveries we may find we are discovering things for ourselves. And that can be very helpful when the conversation turns to what is "Christian" and not "Christian" in our media. If we have a Bible, but do not read our Bible, then we are likely to be convinced by whomever speaks the firmest, or whose other viewpoints we like. Without our own immersion in Scripture, how can we tell the phonies from the real thing?

Yes, it can be dangerous to give Bibles to children. They might read it. What is more, as they come to understand it, in its marvelous mosaic, they will be shaped by it. They might be inspired to ask a lot of questions about it, make it the center piece of their lives. Then they might grow up in the Spirit of the Lord and become preachers. And what if those third graders, now all grown up, came back with the Good News of the Gospel—good news for the poor, the lame, the crippled, the socially disadvantaged. What if those young kids grew up to become leaders in communities fighting for social justice, and equality, and love and fairness and all those things which today compete with the powers that be who defend the status quo? Would we, who gave them this Bible in the first place, listen to them?

Yes, giving Bibles to children is a dangerous thing. But it is also a hopeful thing, an exciting thing, a faithful thing. But do not leave them to go it alone. Go with them. Read it to them and with them. Read it on your own. Don't settle for Bible-Believing. Be Bible knowledgeable.

Ground Zero Beck

2010-08-27T09:30:00.001-07:00

As I sit here contemplating our world, it occurs to me that Glenn Beck's decision to host his rally on the anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr's I have a dream speech is eerily similar to the debate around the "ground zero" muslim community center. The difference, though, is that this serves Beck's purpose, the other does not.

The primary objection, as I understand it, to the community center is that it is disrespectful of what ground zero means to those who were impacted by those events. Yet Beck shows no reluctance to claim not merely proximate space, but the exact space, and date, of an event crucial to the hearts of civil rights activists and those who have suffered at the hands of white racism.

All of this does nothing more than to reinforce my despair that there is no honesty, no integrity, no surrender to truth, left in our culture.

The cross is left to confront the will to power.

More stream of consciousness. The issue for me is not whether Beck has a right to do what he is doing. Bit such a right has to be universally applied.

But Beck and his kind are not real people. They are characters acting in the theater of the real. They are reality television and so many are cast against their will as props for the political and monetary gain of this theater of the real (absurd).

An Opinion Worth Reading

2010-08-24T18:33:00.000-07:00

Related to my post about the community center in New York....

One of my real peeves about this and other issues is the absolute disregard for the truth. It is one thing to disagree about how we relate to the truth, but it is something else just to make stuff up to serve one's purpose.

So here is a good piece along those lines. Click here.

On the Mosque and Rising Suns

2010-08-24T18:10:00.000-07:00

Given that this blog's purpose concerns the relationship between religion and culture, it would seem I should have something to say about the controversy in New York. But I do not know what to say. Suppose a segment of the population decided to protest the notion that the sun rises in the east. What shall we say? Look east in the morning? Look west in the evening? And if they persisted, claiming that the "claim" that the sun rises in the east is nothing more than mere "appearance", a clever trick or manipulation of those with sinister intent, what then shall we say?

That the protest in New York is irrational, that the sentiments expressed against the community center, against Islam, against the "Other" are ill-conceived, seems to me so self-evident there is no need to express it here. Besides, from the Daily Show to Frank Rich in the NYT, the flaws of the protests logic and approach seem to have been laid sufficiently bare.

And those who prefer their news a little, shall we say, foxier, how can we communicate? For what is at issue here is not a question of foreign policy or economic theory. There are certanly issues around which conservatives and liberals can disagree with integrity and intelligence. This issue is not one of them. What is at issue here is the demonization of a people through loose guilt by association and ludicrous cause and effect. This is power playing emotion to the worst effect. I just wish I could think of something new to say about it.

I guess what troubles me the most about this issue, and why my brain tends to lock up when I think about it, is that I am trained as both a theologian and a journalist. So I see offense on every front. The coverage of the "story" is irresponsible by the right and the attitude toward Islam and the raging ignorance displayed concerning religion, culture, and history is staggering.

How do you argue with someone who says the sun rises in the west?

Or as Schiller has one of his characters exclaim, "Against stupidity, the gods themselves contend in vain."

Those Possessed by Devils Try To Keep Them Under Control

2010-08-21T17:19:00.001-07:00

So said Reg, follower and presumed head disciple of the followers of Brian, Messiah. Or so it seems in one scene from Monty Python's "Life of Brian". Completely against his will, Brian has attracted both followers and a reputation and he is now being touted as "The Savior". As Brian makes his way through a crowd, seemingly oblivious to those around him, many cry out for healing and for him to touch them. But Reg is there for crowd control. "Don't push that baby in the Savior's face," he scolds, "he'll touch him later." "Women taken in sin line up against that wall." And, of course, the above mentioned.

I am thinking of this as I look at the Gospel reading assigned for tomorrow in the Lectionary. It is the story of Jesus healing a woman who was bent and crippled for 18 years. She appeared at the synagogue on the Sabbath as Jesus was teaching. When Jesus sees her, he interrupts his teaching to proclaim that she is set free from her ailment. Predictably this upsets the Pharisees who object to Jesus healing on the Sabbath. But this story has a twist, one that brought to mind the above scene from the movie. The Pharisees, a la Reg, say to the crowd, "There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured."

Now this is an interesting idea. What are we to assume? Shall we assume that this woman simply did not know that cures were available six days a week? Or shall we assume that had she come on another day, she would not have been cured, as there would be no one there to cure her? One could argue that only Jesus could cure and this was the day he was in town. But what seems more likely is that the Pharisees, in a well practiced art still practiced today, used the letter of the law to weasel out of responsibility. If we grant that it is wrong to cure on the Sabbath, and if we also grant that healing is permissible six days out of the week, then why are not more people cured?

The answer is, it seems from the text, the Pharisees had no interest in that activity. But rather than owning that small detail, they preferred instead to take their moral high road and defend the sanctity of the Sabbath.

Jesus has none of it. He never has any of it from the Pharisees. Jesus points out that the Sabbath was made for human beings. The Pharisees themselves feed their beasts of burden on the Sabbath. Shall not a child of Abraham also be set free on any day, including the Sabbath?

And, of course, this whole scene would have been unnecessary if the Pharisees had been interested in a curing ministry. Had they been so interested, then the Pharisees, this woman, and Jesus could have enjoyed a nice quiet Sabbath.

Drawing a Crowd

2010-08-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

The Huffington Post reports a Gainesville, Florida "church"'s intention to burn Qurans. Obviously such bigotry is nothing new. But I am thinking about this in terms of crowds. Who will show up?

Mainline churches like mine have chronic and understandable anxiety concerning the available seating space left on Sunday mornings. Sports, sleep, camping, vacations, whatever.... there are a dozen or more reasons why the flock flees on the weekend leaving ample room for visitors.

This anxiety concerning attendance manifests itself in a variety of ways.... envy of the churches with larger crowds, the need to change the worship to accommodate the perceived desires of those not in attendance, different music, screens and visuals, practically anything....

Even burning Qurans? Or how about the church in Kentucky which held a worship service where all of those in attendance were asked to bring their firearms to celebrate the second amendment? Over 200 people showed up for that one. There are many ways to generate a crowd, if a crowd is what you want. But is a crowd want we want?

Sure... but the "crowd" cannot be the point--big or little. It is the proclamation of the Gospel that should be paramount--a Gospel inclusive of Jesus' witness to the Kingdom of God and its righteousness. Jesus' embodiment of the Old Testament prophetic tradition. The crowd I want includes anyone who yearns to understand and participate in the kingdom of God. Anyone who brings a heart of love to a community of inspired inquiry. So the next time you feel anxious about "why people aren't in church?", shift the question to this--"Is this church witnessing to the inclusive love of Jesus Christ?" If you believe that it is, relax. God asks for faithfulness, not market share.

Burning Qurans does not seem to qualify. Nor celebrating firearms. Nor does preaching that God created the heavens and the earth to provide financial prosperity to Americans on a quid quo pro basis. I don't care how many are there with torches, weapons, and portfolios.

Here is something interesting.....

2010-08-20T08:59:00.000-07:00

Rene Descartes skull......

The New York Times Room for Debate (here ) concerns philosophy's relationship to other disciplines. Is Philosophy a discipline in isolation? Or is it inseparably related to other disciplines such as psychology?

I think this question applies not only to theology but to the church. Is the church a place containing a closed system of doctrine and truth apprehended by the initiated? Or is it a place of open encounter with the myriad of human disciplines and knowledge for the sake of understanding the human condition? Because it is theological the task becomes more understanding the human condition in light of the prior reality of faith in a creative, incarnate God. The Bible--- the literary witness to these questions-- is the focal point for the conversation.

Clearly I tend to lean toward the second understanding of the church. I think that kind of church serves existential human need and social welfare the best. What do you think? What do you think of the opinions in the NYT article regardless of theological implications? What is your favorite color?

Meditation for Rev. Dr. Bernard Hawley

2010-08-09T07:46:00.000-07:00

My father died on July 19, 2010. I have been away from the blog since that time attending to various duties, among which was my father's memorial service at the First Presbyterian Church in Salina, Kansas. My father was the Senior Minister of that congregation from 1965 - 1987. The following is the meditation I offered at that service. I hope to get back to blogging--- maybe after school starts?

Romans 8:31-39; 1 Corinthians 15:51-57; Luke 13:10-17

It is hard to know where to start when talking about my father’s life. It is impossible to know where to end. I should start by acknowledging that he probably does not want me to talk about him at all—at least not much—given that this is a worship service. Ours is a Witness to the Resurrection and our attention is properly directed toward the worship of—and thanksgiving to—God.

And we will do that—we are doing that. But we also acknowledge that we are in a sacred space where, for twenty-two years, my father brought a word of grace to those who gathered. Here the young and old were baptized, the bread broken and the cup shared, the hopeful married, the forgiven mourned and remembered. Here through the succession of years the palms turned to ashes and back to palms again. The greens were hung, the Spirit of Pentecost blew anew and the voices of song and prayer reached up to heaven. And through all of that time my father made a tremendous difference in the lives of those who passed through this sanctuary—those who lived in this community—those who are part of our nation. I admit that I am not a neutral observer. But by any standard of excellence there can be no question that we have a tremendous amount to be grateful for in the life of Bernie Hawley and it is our sadness but also our privilege and joy to express that gratitude this afternoon.

I have had what many do not have on such occasions as this—almost three weeks to reflect upon what I would say in the brief period available this afternoon. Time, in this case, is both curse and blessing. It is a blessing to be able to spend so much time remembering, talking with family and friends, organizing one’s memories. It is a curse as well, for all of this remembering and talking and organizing leads to an overwhelming amount of material, of directions, of vectors, if you will. So choices had to be made, and I have chosen to talk of two things which I believe best illustrate my father in his vocational life and as a family man. These two things are the humanity of the Gospel and the centrality of mystery.

What do I mean by the humanity of the Gospel? Our reading from Luke is meant to be illustrative. Throughout the Gospel narratives Jesus and the Pharisees spar over scriptural interpretation. Jesus champions the cause of the socially despised, the sick and infirmed, the politically and religiously oppressed, in the name of the Kingdom of God. The Scribes and the Pharisees defend the Torah as they interpret it with an emphasis on purity and ritual sacrifice. But Jesus smelled something fishy. And in this encounter—one of many really—Jesus brings the problem to the surface. The law is valuable, but its purpose has been subjugated by the Pharisees to their own specific interests and advantage. As Jesus says elsewhere, the Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath. When confronted with human need, with an evident need for human liberation, there was nothing in the law to forbid it. Only the human heart stands between this woman and liberation. Will that heart be hard or that heart be turned? The hardened hearts of the Pharisees had turned—they had turned “right religion” into a tool of oppression which Jesus fought at every turn. In Jesus we see the humanity of the Gospel. Human beings—their needs, their sorrows, their fears, their hopes, their welfare—are at the heart of Jesus’ message. Jesus’ message concerned the new reality he called the Kingdom of God. This is grace, and grace is what my father was all about.

In every sermon there came a moment when my father’s words reached out to speak to the existential condition of his congregation. He taught us how to worry wisely, how to let go of the second sock, how to forgive and be forgiven, how to grieve and by thankful. He emphasized the gift of freedom that was inherent to the Gospel. He encouraged us to be good stewards of God’s creation as well as good stewards of ourselves. And each at every turn he preached a word of grace, for grace is the beginning and the end of our relationship with God. The real needs of people are first, even when the people are not always "just like us."

In January, 1986, the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded a little more than one minute into its flight. In the days that followed there was much national mourning. A national memorial service was scheduled and my father was invited to offer prayer. The Challenger’s crew was not only ecumenical—a Baptist, an Episcopalian, a Methodist—it was also inter-faith. So the families in attendance represented various traditions of Christianity as well as Buddhism and Judaism. It is not easy to craft a prayer that was sensitive and inclusive of these traditions and at the same time said something of comfort that could be universally understood. But my father managed it. This is how his prayer began.

O thou Whom we call by various names, approach by several paths, and yet all acknowledge as the Source of Life, Thy greatness is seen in this vast and wondrous universe. We turn now to Thee because we need the assurance of a love that is equally great and wondrous, to feel that underneath are the Everlasting Arms and to know that the hand that holds us is a hand we trust.

When my father returned to Salina he discovered that, among the many responses of appreciation, there were a few Pharisees who grumbled with indignation that, when given such a national stage, my father threw Jesus under the bus. Where was the evangelical moment, they demanded. Where was the Christian emphasis? Why did he shirk in his duties to confront those gathered with the universal particularity of Jesus Christ? But, of course, Jesus was there. He was there in the form of a man who understood that the Sabbath was made for human beings and not human beings for the Sabbath. He was there in the form of a man who understood that healing was needed regardless of the day or the hour or the religion. Dad truly believed that to be Christian was not so much to talk about Jesus so much as to be Jesus as much as it was possible. The message of Christianity was not merely the message that was Jesus but also the message that Jesus brought which was developed and adapted by Paul in the middle of the first century and remembered and recorded by the evangelists by that century’s end. A message powerfully encapsulated with these resounding words from Romans: For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

My father spent his ministry in service to the humanity of Jesus Christ. The Gospels make in abundantly clear that love was at the heart of the Kingdom, and that God so loved the world that he sent his only Son, not to condemn the world, but so that the world—the Cosmos in the Greek text—would be saved.

Paul wrote to the Romans that neither death nor life would be able to separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ. This was comforting, no doubt, but perhaps, for some, hard to believe. So Paul also wrote, albeit to a different church, “Behold, I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” Although practicing the practical application of ministry with people, my father never lost sight of the mystery which both called him into service and sustained him throughout. Scripture is full of mysteries, both large and small, not the least of which is the mystery embedded in the universe God created that is so rich and vast we will never finally exhaust these mysteries it contains. And there is the greatest Christian mystery of all: that in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.

My father did not consider mystery the enemy of Christian faith. It was an element of faith. In 1Timothy we read “great is the mystery of our faith”, and it is true. Appreciation for and wonder of such mysteries are surely one of the things I share in common with my sister and brothers.
I have spent the greater part of my life with the following dialogue. “What do your siblings do?” I respond that they are highly decorated scientists—one a professor of chemistry interested in molecular biology, another a former NASA astronaut who now teaches Astronomy and a brother who has written a college textbook on cosmology which is now in a second printing. “Oh,” comes the reply, “so what happened to you?” This does not bother me—anymore. Clearly in my case the apple did not fall far from the tree. I, like my father, dabbled in radio before entering the ministry. I, like my father, and his father before him, have an interest in history and literature and the arts which are true compliments of a Reformed Theological understanding of the world. But there are those who look to my siblings—these highly decorated scientists—and wonder, "Why would they pursue science if their father was a preacher?"

To ask this question is to misunderstand many things, but clearly it is to not understand the centrality of mystery. If faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen, then the things hoped for and the things not seen are the things of mystery. And the ultimate mystery, the mystery at the heart of my father’s theology, is the Incarnation, which winds its way through his sermons like a meandering river. The American writer Flannery O’Connor said it well. The Incarnation is the concrete expression of mystery—mystery that is lived. My father was concerned with mystery as it is incarnate in human life.

And we all should be so concerned, each in our own way. As to me and my siblings, we are so concerned because our father taught us to be this way. Our home was filled with encouragement to explore, to uncover, to discover. Our parents encouraged us at every turn to try everything, learn everything, and question everything. That my siblings are scientists is, to me, not surprising at all. All of us live with and pursue mystery—not for the purposes of its capture and incarceration—but for the excitement of the discovery, tentative as those discoveries may be. And the motive behind the search is the benefit to humanity, for knowledge is always a benefit, and mystery its own reward.

Krista Tippett hosts “Speaking of Faith” on National Public Radio and has recently published a book based upon interviews conducted with a variety of scientists with the work of Albert Einstein as the common thread. Her book is entitled Einstein’s God, and in the preface, Tippett offers a quotation from Einstein with which my father would have resonated: A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, of the manifestations of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty—it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute the truly religious attitude…enough for me is the mystery of the eternity of life, and the inkling of the marvelous structure of reality. Einstein was by no means a Christian. And to be certain my father was. He believed mystery had a name—and that name was Jesus Christ, the Incarnation of the Word of God. But my father would have agreed with Einstein that there is an appropriate attitude to maintain when speaking of such lofty things, an attitude toward this mystery which is so important—however we name the mystery. It is an attitude of humility and hope, a commitment to know what we know and claim no more, to always seek to learn more, and to apply what we learn to the improvement of human life.

One branch of Christian theology is known as apologetics. Apologetics is interested in conversation, in dialogue, in finding the common ground with philosophy, science, and culture, for the purposes of establishing Christianity’s legitimate place. My father considered himself an apologist for the Christian faith, much after the example of Paul as recorded in the Book of Acts. Paul visited Athens and, after examining the cultural evidence of religious practice, including the altar to the unknown god, Paul addressed the Athenians. "People of Athens! I can see you are very religious people. What you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth...In him we live, and move, and have our being." My father proclaimed this God to both the confidently faithful and to those who could only sense the unknown god. He desired to meet people where they were, honor what they knew, and expand their horizons with the possibility of the grace of God and the mystery of redemption.

My time is nearly up and I know there is much I have left unsaid. No life, my father’s or anyone else’s can be reduced to a twenty minute meditation. For this reason receptions were invented so that the conversation could continue. I will make two more observations. Near the end of his life my father was despondent. His Parkinson’s was cruel. His memory was fading like a balloon let loose into a deep blue sky. He was not afraid to die. He had no reason to be afraid to die, although he did confess that he wasn’t quite sure what the arrangement was on the other side. But that was fine. My father believed that death was letting go into the hands of the God who loved him in his life. Why would the God who loved him in his life not love him in his death? But he did have one request. He wanted to be appointed guardian angel to his two grandchildren. That this has happened I have no doubt. No one, and I mean no one, was better qualified for the job.

And, finally, these words. Not mine, his. This is how he concluded his sermon to this congregation from this pulpit on February 2, 1986, with reference to the Challenger’s tragic end. They seem appropriate to this day, appropriate to him, and his text that day was the same Romans passage we heard today.

But we do weep, for mourn we must; but let us also rejoice in the human spirit that chooses the zest of the unknown, to advance human knowledge, to brave the universe. Let us rejoice in the One whose grandeur and whose power we cannot comprehend, but whose love and care we can never escape. Even the sea of space is but the hollow of His hand, and nothing can snatch us from it ever.

Amen. And amen.

Let us pray:
Gracious and ever-loving God. We give you thanks for the life of Bernie Hawley. We thank you for his commitment to human good. We thank you for his embracing of mystery and of handing on to us such awe and wonder. We thank you that pain and loss are no more for him, that every tear is wiped away, and that he has entered into the rest which you have prepared for him and for all whom you name as your own. All of this we pray through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Question Within the Question- A Sermon

2010-07-23T15:39:00.000-07:00

The Question Within the Question
Rev. James Hawley 7/25/2010

Luke 11:1-13

Which of you, when asked one question, listen for another?

It happens often with children. They ask many questions, questions like “what happens when a meteor comes through the roof?” Or, “If an alligator came into the dining room could we keep it?” Or maybe they wonder what happens if the sun fails to rise one day or how far it is to McCook if you have to walk. Whatever the case may be, often we are asked questions that have answers, but the answer is not really the point. The alligator question might just be natural curiosity, or it may reflect a yearning for a pet of some kind. The meteor question is easy to answer, but the real issue may be a sense of insecurity around the forces of nature. The question about McCook may have something to do with the loud crash you heard a short time ago. Whatever it is, however, the immediate question is seldom at the heart of the matter. What is really at issue is the question within the question.

The disciples watched Jesus pray. Watching Jesus pray must be like watching Phil Mickelson play golf or Arthur Rubinstein play the piano. The Carly Simon song comes to mind. Nobody Does it Better. So the disciples are understandably in awe of Jesus and his relationship with God. The text does not tell us—was Jesus praying aloud? If so, were the disciples in earshot? Or was he in silent prayer? An interesting question, I think, which the scripture does not answer. But the fact that the disciples then asked Jesus to “teach them to pray” as John taught his disciples suggests that they were not able simply to mimic Jesus’ prayers. They wanted lessons. Advice. And Jesus answers their request directly.

The “Lord’s Prayer”, as tradition has termed it, can be found in two places in the Bible. Here and as part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew. The text is different in each of these places and neither is the text that we commonly recite in church. Matthew is the closest, in the Revised Standard Version, but it lacks the doxology—“for Thine is the Kingdom and the Power of the Glory forever.” Luke’s version is a bit more spare.

There are essentially five petitions in Luke’s version of the Lord’s Prayer and, in keeping with Luke’s interest in linking both the former and the newer covenants together, the prayer can be understood as a distillation of the Ten Commandments. The five petitions are: 1) The holiness of God’s name. 2) the primacy of God’s kingdom. 3) The dependency of the creation on the creator 4) the necessity of forgiveness 5) the necessity of recognizing evil and steering clear of it. The first three petitions bring to mind the first four commandments and their emphasis on the absoluteness of God and the need to not have other gods or to take the Lord’s name in vain. The remaining petitions invoke the various “thou shalt nots” of the commandments. Essentially, forgiveness is the foundation of the community and the various “evils” which are itemized in the Old Testament are here lumped together as “Temptation” and “evil” which God shall help us to avoid. As Jesus’ followers were all Jews, at this point in the story, we may safely assume that there is nothing new here. No ground breaking insight. The prayer simply reiterates to Jesus’ followers the Jewish law in which they have been living all along.

But most of this Lukan text is not concerned with the prayer itself. It is concerned with the extended story about the neighbors. Therefore, we may conclude that Jesus’ principle interest is not in the words of the prayer itself, but in the question within the question that the disciples ask. This is a common practice for Jesus in Luke as we have seen. Jesus’ stories are not generally designed to introduce a new idea into people’s heads. Jesus’ stories draw out of people the things they already know to be true but may have conveniently forgotten. The young ruler knows the greatest commandment. The Pharisee is able to identify who was neighbor to the beaten man. Simon the Pharisee understands which debtor would be more loving. So perhaps the disciples already know how to pray, if by that we mean they can open their mouths and words will come out. What they may not know is whether their prayers are worth anything. They know how to pray, but they do not know what prayers work. What, they ultimately want to know, must they do to get God’s attention? I imagine a scene in which the disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray, he answers with this prayer, and then goes back to his book or whatever he is doing. I see the disciples standing around, looking each other, kicking the dirt. “Jesus,” they say. “So…that’s it then? That will do it?” They are asking Jesus how to pray because they are afraid that their prayers are not any good. They are afraid that God does not hear their prayers. They are afraid of what will happen to them if they pray poorly. Under it all, the disciples are afraid that God may not actually care about them.

So Jesus tells them a story about a grumpy old man who has gone to bed and does not want to be bothered. With this character I can totally relate. But he is bothered—he is bothered by a neighbor who needs some food. The neighbor does not exactly say I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down, but he does persist. And so, just to get rid of him, the neighbor gets out of bed and gives the man what he is asking for.

As Amy Jo talked about two weeks ago with the story of the Good Samaritan, it was quite popular in the early centuries of the Church to allegorize Jesus’ stories. An allegory is a story within which the characters and events have a one to one relationship with real life counterparts. Have you read “Pilgrim’s Progress” by John Bunyan? This story was written in 1678 and is an allegory of the Christian’s life (The main character is named “Christian”) through hardship and peril to end finally at eternity. Perhaps the most famous allegory is one that the Greek philosopher Plato tells in his dialogue The Republic. It is called the allegory of the cave. Plato tells the story of persons chained in a cave unable to see anything but shadows of things passing by behind them. A light casts the shadows. As the people in the cave know no better, they presume the shadows are real when they are, of course, just shadows. Plato uses this story as an allegory to make the point that the people of Athens also confuse their knowledge (shadows) with what is real (Truth and Philosophy and things Plato likes). Now you don’t need to understand any of that I hope to see what allegory is. An allegory is story in which the characters and events are intended to represent actual real world people or events.

And Jesus did tell an allegory or two. At least the evangelists treat some of his stories as allegories. But mostly Jesus told parables, and parables are different from allegories. A parable is more slippery. In a parable, unlike an allegory, the target seems to be always moving. They are hard to pin down, hard to exhaust. Parables certainly are meant to illustrate ideas, ethics, morals. But they are often open ended, inviting us to enter into them in many ways and at different times. The story of the Prodigal Son is a common example. Sometimes when we hear that story we think we are like the father, other times the younger son, and other times the behavior of the older brother reminds us of our own feelings. Or the story of the Good Samaritan. There are times when we relate to the priest or Levite. Other times we feel like the victim on the road. Heaven forbid we not relate to the robbers, and at our best we resonate with the Samaritan. The point is this: with a parable there can never be a direct one to one relationship between the story and the world because the story and the world are too ambiguous to permit that.

The reason I descended into that discussion was to point out the risk of making an allegory out of this story. For if we do, we will understand God to be a grouchy old man who answers prayer to get rid of us. Now that is not what Jesus had in mind. Jesus’ story works instead by contrasting two things. Two things which are not at all alike. His point, ultimately is this: If grumpy old men get out of bed and give the neighbor what he is asking for---then how can you doubt that God---who is the opposite of the grumpy old man—will not care for you?

In a couple of weeks the lectionary has scheduled a passage wherein Jesus tells his disciples and others not to worry. Fear not, little flock, for it is your father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Let us transport that text into our own this day for it is important to see the continuity of expression on this subject. Time and time again Jesus comforts his followers with the assurance that God’s love is a given. It is part and parcel to the Kingdom of God. I am a little miffed at Jesus for saying that I, who am evil, know what good things to give my children. But I am willing to take the high road on this one. For the larger point is this---we must stop worrying about God’s love, either for us or our neighbor. The heart of the Kingdom of God is love. And love is reflected in forgiveness. And forgiveness opens the way to pursue the goals of God’s Kingdom. Which is pretty much the Lord’s Prayer. It is also at the heart of a lot of questions our children ask us---or others. The questions that have, at their heart, do you love me? Am I safe? Can I trust? Dare I risk? Jesus says yes. And yes. And yes. Love, forgive, pray, and live. Ask, knock and receive. Receive the Holy Spirit which your Father is every ready to give.

On the Road Again

2010-07-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

Well I have been dropping twenty dollar bills into a paper shredder for a while now so i guess I am ready to go to New York. Back next week......

The Good Samaritan

2010-07-09T13:52:00.000-07:00

Although I am not preaching this week, I was ruminating about the lectionary reading which is the familiar story of the Good Samaritan. Like many of Luke's stories, the Good Samaritan has transcended its biblical roots to become part of the common vernacular of the people. Those who do something nice for another are often called "good Samaritans" even by people who have no idea that the term comes from the Bible or who a Samaritan is.

As with many stories of Jesus, as told by Luke, the Good Samaritan does not simply fall from the sky. Jesus does not stop random passers-by and say "hear this story". The story is prompted by an exchange with a "lawyer", one of the religious leaders specializing in Torah interpretation. The lawyer correctly understands that the greatest law involves "loving neighbor as yourself." But he does not stop there. In Luke's words "seeking to justify himself", the lawyer asks, "who is my neighbor?"

It is response to this question that Jesus tells his story. The circumstances of the story are well known and we will not review them here. If you want you can go read it in Luke 10. What matters to us here is this: at the end of the story Jesus asks the lawyer "who was neighbor to the man?" The lawyer responds, "The one who showed him mercy."

Jesus, as is his custom, turns the terms of the question up-side-down. The lawyer asked, "who is my neighbor?" Jesus asks, "who was neighbor to the man?" The story redefines the emphasis of the question of neighbor. Rather than a means of assessing who is worthy of being considered a "neighbor", Jesus defines neighbor as something we "are" to others. Therefore, the worthiness of the one we help becomes irrelevant. What matters is need.

My In-laws attend a church in Green Valley, AZ which is very committed to Border issues. Arizona, as many people know, has recently passed legislation relating to illegal immigration which has raised quite a ruckus. There is a group in my In-Laws church called the "Samaritans" whose calling it is to look for immigrants in the desert region around the border and provide them with food or water or help. A great many people who seek to come from Mexico to the United States do so at great risk and many die in the attempt. Should the "Samaritans" find someone in the desert, they provide necessities for survival and, if the circumstances warrant it, they call Border Patrol.

Understandably there are many people who do not like the Samaritans. They feel these illegal immigrants get what they have coming if they die in the desert. They feel that providing them with food and water is unlawfully assisting them in breaking the law. There is a group, known as the Minutemen, who patrol looking for migrants for the purpose of harassing and intimidating them. This is not the only difference between Samaritans and Minutemen: the Samaritans are armed with water and food. The Minutemen are merely armed.

When we look at this situation in Arizona from the standpoint of Jesus' story, something should be clear. Jesus' story is about BEING a neighbor to those in need. Not, as the lawyer hoped, about assessing who was worthy of mercy. The Samaritans in Arizona are, therefore, very biblical in their desire to show mercy to those in need without assessing their character, legality, or circumstance (apart from their immediate need for food and water). The Minutemen, it would seem, are more like the Lawyer who asked Jesus the question. Who is my neighbor? Apparently, thirsty, starving Mexicans in the desert are not "their neighbor". If we want to be followers of Jesus, what shall we do? How shall we respond to the immigration issue? It is by no means easy. It is quite complicated. But we should begin with the right question. It is not, "who is my neighbor?" The right question is "Who acted as neighbor to the one in need?"

Ready or Not... A Sermon

2010-07-07T14:29:00.000-07:00

Galatians 6:14-16
Luke 10:1-11

We in the modern church do not speak much of circumcision. And this is fine with me. With the exception of Jewish people, this topic is best discussed with one’s pediatrician rather than one’s pastor. We may acknowledge that this subject bears some importance to the Old Testament and Paul seems to want to bring it up a lot, but by and large this subject, from our religious viewpoint, is a religious concern of a by-gone era.

But this avoidance does come at a cost. For while it is true that circumcision itself is not relevant to gentile Christians such as us, Paul is making an important point that should not be lost, tossed out like the proverbial baby with the bathwater. Paul is speaking of a matter of great importance to the early church. The issue is whether non-Jews need to go through a process of becoming Jews on the way to becoming Christians. Paul says no. If you are a Jew, as he was, then good for you. If you are not, then welcome aboard. The only thing that matters to Paul is the New Creation in Jesus Christ, realized in the cross of Christ, a reality equally accessible to the Jew and the non-Jew.

So the question for us hip, modern Christians is this: what is our circumcision? In other words, what are those things we cling to as essential prerequisites for participation in the Christian faith? We might be surprised when we stop to think about it, how many things we consider the essential “first things first”. Just as those early Jewish Christians believed that conforming to the Jewish law was a prerequisite for being a “Christian”, so we, too, have our gauntlets established.

As you know one of my favorite examples in town is the church that has the handy card in the pews which tell visitors the seven things they have to believe before they can become members or take communion. We are well familiar with the Roman Catholic understanding that only Roman Catholics may partake of the Eucharist. There is a church in town on the way to Cody Go Carts whose sign proclaims the following: Fundamental, Independent, and KJV ONLY!

In the Christian bookstore you can buy evangelical tracts to hand out to people. One of them tells the story of an Army chaplain who worked hard to help those in his charge, including those who didn’t believe in Jesus. When he died he went to the pearly gates only to be told by whomever was standing guard that he didn’t get in because he did not worship Jesus as the only way to salvation. As I understood the message, it makes no difference how much compassion you show people, especially people who are religiously different, if you do not drive home Jesus you don’t get in.

Now I can’t speak for you, wouldn’t dream of it, but I have a hard time with believing in a God who, at the end of the day, is as petty and vindictive as we are. But I digress. The point is this: It seems we all have those things we find essential prerequisites on the way to “being saved”. For many Christians, before you can be one of us, you have to BE one of us.

But what is the biblical witness? What does scripture say? Well, to be a bit more focused, what do this morning’s texts say? Since we have already started with Paul we will stay with him. Paul’s letter to the Galatians is, with the possible exception of Romans, the most succinct statement of his theology. And whereas Romans is drawn out a bit, more of a reasoned argument, Galatians is a fiery retort full of anger. Paul apparently wrote it himself, at least the conclusion, literally, as he mentions what large letters he makes when he writes with his own hand. At issue here is whether the church—or series of churches—to which Paul has brought the Gospel will continue in the Gospel Paul preached. Or shall they, from Paul’s perspective, be “led astray”. Paul’s Gospel is inclusive. Gentile or Jew, male or female, slave nor free—all are one in Christ Jesus. For Paul, God has intervened in human history decisively in Jesus Christ. This “once and for all” event changes everything. No longer does the law hold humanity in captivity. The law has been condensed into a new reality in Christ—it is by God’s grace that we are saved through faith in the one who makes salvation possible. What is left is a life of thankful praise. After depositing this gospel of grace, Paul moved on. Not long after, it appears, other evangelists came through with a slightly different message. Not so fast, they said: Jesus, yes, but the law as well. And these evangelists compelled potential Gentile Christians to first accept the requirements of the law, circumcision—the sign of the covenant with Abraham—being the outward sign.

Well, when Paul finds out he flips out, and this letter is his response. Paul ends his letter with a glorious observation that is worth every bit of time we take meditating on it. Neither circumcision or uncircumcision is anything. The New Creation is everything. Or, as the Greek text reads: Neither circumcision nor uncircumcision—New Creation!

The New Creation. This is the foundation of Paul’s theology. Whatever went wrong with Adam in the Garden of Eden, whatever went wrong which made the law and all of its baggage necessary, whatever twists and turns human affairs have taken, sinking deeper and deeper into sin, all of that is erased with a sweep of God’s cosmic hand. Paul preaches Christ and him crucified and raised, God’s “New Creation” in which sin is forgiven and overcome, death is overcome, all human division is overcome. What remains in this “New Creation” is unity, brother and sisterhood, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. As Paul sardonically points out, against these there is no law.

But more than this, the point to take away from his words is this: All of it is of God’s choosing and God’s doing. This seems so simple to say but so hard to truly accept. We don’t get a say in this. It’s done. That is why Paul is so upset with these Galatians. Jesus has taken away any and all of the human rules for religion. Think of it this way. This is the season for bad weather. We have storms from time to time. When a severe thunderstorm is heading our way, the weather people let us know. They issue a warning and we, if we are wise, heed that warning and take precautions. Are we at liberty to say, “thank you for the note about the storm, but we prefer sunshine thank you.” No. The storm is coming. We cannot change that. All we can do is adjust ourselves to that impending reality.

And so it is for Paul and the New Creation. We do not get to decide whether we want a New Creation or not. We do not get to select from a buffet of religious choices which parts suit us and which parts do not. God has redeemed creation in Jesus Christ and we, as part of that creation, are caught up in redemption. Paul says we have to grasp that redemption, which is faith, and live a grateful life in the ways he describes. Now surely many people believe themselves to be redeemed and, in one sense, they are. But do they act like Paul would have them act—with love, joy, peace, etc. Or do they act as the Jewish Christians act—with rules and regulations and condemnations and threats

In our Gospel story Jesus sends teams out to proclaim the good news. Jesus gives them particular instructions. If you come to a town and they receive you, good. Tell them the Kingdom of God has come near to them. If you go to a town that does not receive you, bad. Tell them the Kingdom of God has come near them.

Do you notice what these two experiences have in common? Not the reception, to be sure. Some towns were happy to see them and others not. What was common to both events was the message. The message is the same to those who are receptive and to those who are not—the Kingdom of God has come near.

Imagine you go to visit other lands with a message—your message is that a heavy rainfall is coming. The first land you visit is locked in a severe drought. How will you message be received? With joy, one supposes. As the answer to prayer. Now you visit a land in which the grass is green and the plants are plentiful and the residents do nothing but play golf every day. You bring your message of heavy rainfall. How will they feel about it? They will be disappointed, as the reality you predict will mess up their plans, their way of life.

It is not a perfect illustration, but it is meant to help us think about the ways in which one message may be heard differently by different people in different situations. In Jesus’ day, those who were, for the most part, excluded from the benefits of society welcomed Jesus’ words. Those who largely benefited from the status quo were not as keen. Good news is not always Good news for everyone.

But it should be. The Kingdom of God and its righteousness is a pearl of great price, a treasure hidden in the field. The Kingdom of God is a mustard seed that grows into a giant bush and a seed that takes root in fertile ground. But more than anything, the Kingdom of God is the Kingdom of GOD. And, as such, like our thunderstorm, has come whether we like it or not. Like Paul’s New Creation, the Kingdom of God is a new and triumphant reality that has arrived by God’s will alone and we cannot live in any other reality because there is no other reality. That is not to say we cannot try to live in another reality. We can, and often do, attempt to impose our Kingdoms onto the Kingdom of God. But this is folly, the evangelists agree, and in Jesus Christ—his life, death, resurrection—we see God’s intention for our lives together and God’s promised fulfillment of things at the end of history.

So back to our original question. What, for us, is circumcision? Or, what would Paul say to us today, using the language and examples from our time? That is for each of us to answer, but here are a few ideas….
Neither the KJV nor the NRSV is anything, but the New Creation is everything.
Neither your politics nor my politics is anything, but the New Creation is everything.
Neither your creed nor my creed is anything, but the New Creation is everything.

Or, just simply—The New Creation is everything. The Kingdom of God has come near. Ready or not….

Lessons Learned At the Museum of Science and Industry

2010-06-29T15:45:00.002-07:00

Today we visited the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago. Clearly there are many and wondrous things to see and do. But by days end two things were made abundantly clear to me: A group of 12 cannot make a decision if the goal is to agree on what everyone is supposed to do next and if you want to engage the public around difficult ideas such as global warming and physics, you must be loud, messy, high energy, and hand out stickers.

These two truths seem applicable to my world in the mainline church. One: Although we were one family, we went round and round about what to see when to eat etc. Our only hope was to finally abandon the notion of unanimity and break into smaller affinity groups. Should the Church be different? Are many denominations an offence to the unity of Christ or our only hope of not killing each other.

All of the presentations were loud, upbeat, showy, with stickers and stuff. It was science Vacation Bible School. The cool thing about science is that the ideas and theories translate into demonstration. You can see and hear the principles in action. Is this not, in a way, the sacraments? Perhaps if the bread exploded....

Just some thoughts while wandering around.

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Ancient Wisdom

2010-06-29T15:45:00.001-07:00

Travelling around Chicago reminds me of a truth once told to my father before he visited New York-- drop 20 dollar bills into a paper shredder and when it doesn't bother you anymore you are ready to go.

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Reflections on the Lake

2010-06-26T07:13:00.001-07:00

So last night around midnight, the kids were out looking at the lake, still and mirror-like reflecting moonlight in a cool breeze. They were overcome by the beauty of the scene, prompting my 9-year-old son to observe the following, which is an exact quote:

Tonight I have experienced such beauty. I thought beauty was in a woman's face that you loved. But today I have figured out that beauty isn't always in a woman's face that you love----it can be right in front of you. You just have to take a moment and just soak it in. It can even make you cry.

Please stand by

2010-06-25T18:05:00.001-07:00

I am on vacation in the wilds of Michigan. I will think about blogging again on return. Thank you for your patronage.

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Haiku Wednesday- Challenge

2010-06-23T06:47:00.000-07:00

Accept the challenge?
Perhaps-Depends-Possibly
But which door to choose?

One is stark, unhinged
haunting glow of yellow, green
seeps below the frame

The other oaken
honey sweet drips of thick bronze
frost the beveled edge

Whick knob shall I grasp?
The Lady or the Tiger-
Oh, the twist of fate

Only truth will tell
Valor and bravery swell
God help me to grasp

a hopeful future
a conquering tug-nothing
resistance and fear

I pull again-blind
die cast--bridge crossed--the ship sailed
dizzy-flushed-panic

How could I choose wrong?
The door must yield to my pull
Oh, the sign says push.

When The Story Is About Us- A Sermon

2010-06-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

Luke 7

I am imagining a common scene, played out across dining tables everywhere. The mother offers a piece of difficult but necessary wisdom to the teenager. The teenager sits quietly, pondering, absorbing. The father, unaware of the dynamic, offers what he believes to be encouragement. “I believe what your mother is saying is…..” but he never finishes. The teenager looks up with a growl and says, “I KNOW what she is saying!”

And such is the preacher’s lot with texts such as this. And there are many texts such as this. Texts we call parables, or simply the narrative story itself, wherein the interaction of character and dialogue is meant to stand as sufficient, self evident. What more is there to say to Jesus’ words about love and forgiveness? How does the preacher avoid being the one who says, “I think what Jesus is trying to say is….” To a congregation that knows what Jesus says. Silence, not sermons, may be the more appropriate response to texts such as this.

And yet I will take the risk and say something, even if to only shine a spotlight even more brightly on Jesus’ words and Luke’s story. The situation is straightforward enough. One of the Pharisees has invited Jesus to dinner. This is a common strategy which we see played out on the 24 hour cable news channels all the time. Whoever is the hot ticket, whoever has the buzz, that is the one we want as a guest. We want to be associated with him. We want the people to think of us as a pair. Jesus is the latest thing, especially after that resurrection trick he pulled at Nain. Or, perhaps, there is another explanation. Remember the adage—keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Whatever the reason, Jesus is at table with the Pharisee who is distinguished by a trait few Pharisees share in the Gospel. He has a name. Simon.

So Simon the Pharisee and Jesus the Christ are at table together. No other is mentioned until the end of the story save the woman, the woman from the city, the woman who is a sinner, the woman who is a problem. The woman is behind Jesus, in view of Simon, washing and anointing his feet. We need to make a careful note of the language here. The Pharisee, Simon, said disparaging things about the woman to himself. Not out loud. There is no direct challenge to Jesus here. This foreshadows a similar scene later in the Gospel around the time of the story of the prodigal in chapter 15. At that time the “sinners and tax collectors” were coming near to Jesus and the Pharisees were grumbling, saying to themselves “this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” And Jesus’ response is also the same—he anticipates the objection and has a direct response to it.

And as is Jesus’ way, he tells a story. Two debtors, one creditor. One owes a great deal, one owes little. The creditor forgives both debts. Who will be more grateful? The answer seems obvious to Simon. The one who was forgiven more, he says, no doubt wondering what the relevance is. Just so, Jesus says.
When David decided to borrow Bathsheba from her husband while her husband was fighting David’s war, he did so without much thought to consequence. He was king, after all. It was after Bathsheba disclosed her pregnancy that David decided he had to take preventive measures. After failing to entice Uriah, her husband, to spend the night with her, he tried to have him killed. He succeeded in this and his problem was solved. That is until Nathan, his court “story-teller” came to him with a story.

There was a poor man who had a sheep. He loved the sheep as one loves a child. The rich man had many sheep and, when one was needed for a lavish banquet, the rich man did not want to take from his own flock and instead took the poor man’s dear sheep and served it up with mint jelly. David, upon hearing of this towering injustice, was filled with rage. As I am king, he proclaimed, such a man as this deserves death. Let him repay four times the loss.

David’s indignation is encouraging, but his sensitivity is still lacking. After all, this was not a property issue, this was a love issue. In Nathan’s story the poor man clearly loved the sheep and had no intention of ever serving it to anyone. David sees the injustice, but he doesn’t see the emotional import. He doesn’t understand that there are some things more important that property, assets, and privilege.

Which is why, perhaps, we still need sermons on stories. When David heard the story, he knew what it was about, except the part that was about him. When Simon heard the story, it was tiresomely obvious, except that part which indicted him. This is the joy and sorrow of story. Story opens to us levels of awareness that rational argument cannot penetrate. Jesus, and Nathan, understood one of the first rules of engaging the audience—emotional response.

Those of you with children. Did you ever call your parents to complain about your child? You would not believe the words that come out of that child’s mouth! All she does is complain! He just will not clean his room! And your parent listens patiently on the other end before saying, calmly and plainly, you are the man. (or the woman). You were the same way. Or have you ever caught yourself complaining to another person about all the gossipy people while in the process of gossiping about them? When we hear stories that engage our sense of right and wrong, our “common” sense, the moral seems self evident. But it is a common characteristic of such stories that it is easier to apply its lessons elsewhere, or not apply it at all. Simon understood well enough that if one is forgiven one hundred and another ten, the one forgiven one hundred will likely feel more relieved. David understood well enough that you should not raid someone else’s house for what you should supply yourself. What neither understood was that the story was about them.
The bible stories are not just history and they are not just stories. They do not all have the feel good impact of the children’s bible. They are deep and penetrating examinations of what it means to be a human being, good and bad, in the presence of God. This is the power of all stories that matter, that endure. Stories serve not as windows on the past but as mirrors for the present. Stories that matter have the power to change us in ways that argument and lecture and a mountain of facts never can. So Jesus told stories—stories designed to sneak up on us with their truth so that we end up inviting them in before we know what they have to say to us. Had Nathan simply told David he had done a bad thing, David could have denied and excused and evaded. Had Jesus told Simon straight out that this woman was forgiven and therefore loved he would have gotten lost with the others in the argument about forgiveness and who can forgive and when. No. Nathan invited David to self-discovery and Jesus does the same for Simon and for us. In our debt encumbered culture we can surely relate to Jesus’ question to Simon. So can we see, by extension, the truth about love?

Jesus’ story is the story within the larger story that Luke is telling. In Luke’s story we note that the “others” at the table argue about forgiveness. Who does he think he is that he can forgive. But Jesus never forgives the woman. He merely observes that she is forgiven. And this is what explains her actions, her love, her compassion. Does Simon understand? We are not told. We hear only the bickering of the ones Jesus was not directly addressing. Maybe Simon gets it, as David did. You are the man, Simon. You love little, because you are forgiven little. You love little, hence little do you forgive.

Paul Tillich, a wonderful theologian and preacher, offered a sermon on this text. Why, he asked, do so many turn away from their righteous parents, their righteous pastors? Do escape judgment? That is surely some of it. But, Tillich speculates, more often it is because they seek a love that is rooted in forgiveness, and this the righteous ones cannot give. There was a pastor in North Platte many years ago who mentioned once to Amy Jo that it was getting harder and harder to find people to be on the church’s board. “There are just not enough righteous people,” he complained. Is it easier to fill a board with forgiven people?

Tillich concluded his sermon with these words. “The Church would be more the Church of Christ if it joined Jesus and not Simon in its encounter with those judged unacceptable. Each of us who strives for righteousness would be more Christian if more were forgiven him, if he loved more and if he could better resist the temptation to present himself as acceptable to god by his own righteousness.

Haiku Wednesday- Fathers

2010-06-16T08:42:00.000-07:00

Teach me all you know
my son said to me one day
as I tucked him in

That won't take too long
I replied, his eager eyes
staring at my soul

I can be like you
he said, pulling up the sheet
you need higher goals

I flippantly said
and he flashed a wise smile
as the room went dark

and the door was shut
and my life flashed before me
well, he could do worse

Jamie's Pictures

2010-06-14T17:53:00.000-07:00

Well.... life is full of surprises. While we were away picking up our daughter from her week long higher education camp at Creighton University (Omaha), Mother Nature dumped six inches of rain on our house leading to water in the kids' bedroom. So higher ruminating has been placed on hold while we deal with pedestrian housing issues.

Still, I thought I would share two of the pictures Jamie took in her digital photography class. These are her two favorites and were matted by the instructor.

Haiku Wednesday

2010-06-09T06:27:00.000-07:00

I am on my own
No hint or guidance awaits
I risk the venture

Hoping that my words
blind and flightless though they be
will still catch the scent

and dare to depart
to the place where faith alone
navigates the breeze

A sudden rush of wind
ripping from gravity's grasp
syllables of love

My Miss Nebraska

2010-06-07T20:19:00.000-07:00

It started as a joke. A member of my church has had a long time involvement with the Miss Nebraska program and I mentioned to her that my family should host a contestant. I was sure my daughter would enjoy it.

Some time later the phone rang. My wife answered it. It was someone from the Miss Nebraska program telling her about our upcoming house guest. Oops. I guess I forgot to mention it.

In any event, this is how Heather came into our lives. Heather is Miss Columbus. Heather is a graduate of the University of Nebraska and is currently living in Omaha. Heather is delightful.

And Heather is persistent. As we got to know Heather we learned that she has overcome much adversity. At five she was diagnosed with Crohn's Syndrome. This causes her weight to fluctuate a great deal, as much as 20 pounds a month either way. With the Crohn's comes arthritic complications. One doctor told her she has the spine of a ninety year old woman. And yet she dances because she loves to dance.

Dance is Heather's talent. Her platform is mentoring. She has mentored many young women and truly believes in her platform.

We learned a lot about pageants this week. We learned the cliches are true. We experienced the ironies of pageants. The girl with the anti-bullying platform is the biggest thug in the dressing room and the girl with the eating disorders feel good about your body platform ate celery all day for swimsuit competition.

And then there was Heather. Steady, level-headed Heather. She had to cope with her gown, which the tailor nearly ruined. She needed ear rings air lifted in for Thursday night. She was tired from her medical conditions. And she could tell already the chemistry was not good with the judges. They did not like dancers, it appeared. And certainly not girls with a little too much weight.

So the finale came and went. Heather was not chosen on of the seven finalists, although she did win for best interview of a non-finalist. When the pageant was over, and the 17 year old first timer was crowned Miss Nebraska, there were the predictable reactions. Some girls cried. Some girls were angry. Many supporters were angry. What were the judges thinking? How could they leave the local girl out of the runners-up. The curtain closed and the drama began.

When we found Heather at the Quality Inn for the awards ceremony, she was concerned. A young girl, one she had mentored, had given up her own birthday party to travel to North Platte to see Heather, and Heather had not made the final seven. While other girls circled around their supporters to lament the injustices of the world, Heather was busy looking for this little girl. She wanted to make sure she saw her. Thank her for coming. She had bought a birthday card for her.

Now that is MY Miss Nebraska.

The Gorilla in the Text- A Sermon

2010-06-06T16:33:00.000-07:00

Note: When the sermon was delivered at The First Presbyterian Church, North Platte, Nebraska, this video was first shown to the congregation. You should take a moment to watch it.

The Gorilla in the Text

Luke 7:11-17

Did you see the gorilla? Half of the people who watch this video do not see the gorilla. The experiment has been conducted in many countries, with diverse groups, and the result is always the same: half of the observers do not observe the gorilla. They are so engaged with counting the passes by the people in white that the gorilla comes and goes without notice. The authors of this study have written a book about this phenomenon and others like it. In “The Invisible Gorilla”, psychologists Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons off this summary: “When people devote their attention to a particular area or aspect of their visual world, they tend not to notice unexpected objects, even when those unexpected objects are salient, potentially important, and appear right where they are looking.”

The authors offer another illustration—this one more serious. In 2001 a military submarine near Hawaii engaged in a training exercise. The submarine performed what is known as an “emergency deep”. The commander of the sub followed this with an emergency tank blow, in which the main ballasts are emptied and the sub surfaces as fast as it can. This maneuver causes the sub to exit the water briefly. In this case, the sub surfaced under a Japanese fishing boat. Three crew members and six passengers aboard the boat died. The fishing boat was 200 feet long. How could a modern submarine miss the presence of a 200 foot long fishing boat? The investigation concluded that the accident occurred because the commander of the sub failed to see the fishing ship during a routine periscope search of the area. How could this be? How can you not see a fishing boat through the periscope? Chabris and Simons write, “the key lies in what [the commander] thought he would see when he looked. As he said later, “I wasn’t looking for it, nor did I expect it.” He looked right at the fishing boat and did not see it.

I believe this is a fascinating topic to consider. Although these psychologists focus on the visual, I believe their findings suggest that a very similar thing happens when we read something, especially something with which we are very familiar or at least something with which we believe we are very familiar. More specifically, I found this a very insightful observation for reading the Bible. It is quite possible that because we believe we understand something, we will look right past something important that is right before our eyes. Exhibit A comes from our text this morning.

The story of Jesus at Nain is part of a progression of healing which begins with Jesus healing a Centurion’s daughter. This healing comes by request of the father and happens long distance, as Jesus never sees the girl, just pronounces her well. From there he moves on to Nain where he comes upon a funeral procession. Jesus has progressed from a sick daughter at a distance to a dead son at his feet. The dead man is a widow's only son, which implies that the widow herself is now at risk as she has no male household member

So this man is dead. And Jesus raises him from the dead. By his word—I say to you arise—the man sits up and begins to speak and he is restored to his mother. This act serves the dual purpose of bringing the man back to life and restoring his mother’s security.

But the larger point is this—Jesus raised him from the dead. This story is one of resurrection. This intrigues me. We are conditioned to think of Jesus’ resurrection as being unique in human history. God raised Jesus from the dead, thus conquering the power of death once and for all. And yet here is a story of resurrection that comes only seven chapters into Luke’s story. And before that—both Elijah and Elisha are credited with restoring life to those who were dead. They were prophets powerful in word and deed.

So what does it mean that Jesus is not the only one to be raised from the dead in the gospel? He is not even the first! We might even imagine this man living long enough to hear of Jesus' resurrection. What might he say? Been there done that? In order to get to the bottom of this, it was time to consult the wisest commentaries. But not long after I began my search, I realized there were gorillas in our midst.

The first thing I noticed was how many of the commentaries used the word “resuscitation” rather than “resurrection”. Now maybe I am just is splitting hairs or is this distinction important? The Oxford English Dictionary defines resuscitation as the “restoration of consciousness or life in one who is near or apparently dead.” Using the word resuscitation hedges our bet a little. The implication is that the person may not have been really dead, or perhaps dead such a short time it was possible to revive him. Contrast this definition with that of resurrection. The number one definition is the Oxford English Dictionary is “the rising again of Christ after his death and burial.” I found this really interesting. Resurrection, according to the OED, is something that happens to Jesus. And it happens to the rest of us "on the last day". But apparently it doesn't happen to middle aged men in the city of Nain, even if the text right in front of us explicitly says so. Gorillas indeed.

The second thing I noticed was the extensive discussion tying this episode to that of Elijah. Now this is quite understandable. The parallels simply cannot be missed. Elijah raises the widow’s son and Jesus raises the widow’s son. The widow proclaims Elijah a man of God and the people proclaim of Jesus that a great prophet has risen among us and the buzz travels. Many commentators emphasized this miracle as an act of compassion on behalf of the widow.

But this parallel with Elijah only reinforces my main point: resurrection is not new. It was happening centuries before Jesus was born, it happened several times by Jesus’ own hand (in addition to this story there is the 12 year old girl and Lazarus in the Gospel of John). and Jesus himself is raised. So what are we to make of all of this? The man was dead. Stone cold dead. And Jesus raised him from the dead. And the man even spoke in a post-resurrection appearance. The Gorilla in the text is resurrection.

If we think of Jesus’ resurrection as the unique, one and only occurrence of resurrection, than we miss these other occurrences clearly displayed in the text. But this is not to say there is nothing significantly unique about Jesus’ resurrection. Only that the resurrection itself is not unique.

When we think of Jesus’ resurrection as unique—the one and only—we keep it safely tucked away in the past. Resurrection happened once and the world was changed. This is how Paul understands Jesus’ resurrection—as the point of new Creation. And this resurrection of the past becomes the promised resurrection of the future. The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised, according to Paul’s understanding. So Jesus’ resurrection is rooted in the past and projected into the future. But what about the present?

When the widow’s son died in the time of Elijah, Elijah prayed to the Lord and the son had his life come back to him. It was by this miracle that the widow knew that the power of God was active in the world. When the widow’s son was raised by Jesus, he did not call upon God—he uttered the word “arise”. And the son was restored to life. In this way the people knew that a might prophet had risen among them. When Jesus was raised from the dead—well we don’t know. Scripture does not tell us. He was dead and then the tomb was empty and he appeared alive again to his disciples. Jesus was raised by the power of God—in a transaction known only to Jesus and God. So we see the progression. Resurrection through supplication to God. Resurrection by the power of God working in Jesus. Resurrection by the power of God alone.

So, today, in this present time, by what power does resurrection occur? By the power of God! By what instrument? Through the body of Christ, God’s Church. But someone might say, no one has been raised. The dead stay dead. Is it not in the last days that resurrection shall occur? And the scripture does suggest this. But scripture also says something else we must consider. And because this story of Jesus raising the man at Nain appears only in Luke, let us briefly consider another story that occurs only in Luke. The familiar story of the prodigal son.

We will not review this whole story, we know it well enough. It is the end of the story that concerns us. When the son comes home to his joyous father from a life of ruin. The older brother is bitter, and their father says—we have to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.

There are many ways to die in this world and there are many who are dead even in this life. Without diminishing the legitimacy of resurrection in these two stories, without calling into question the resurrection of the dead on the last day, we must also admit to the kind of death to which Luke refers in the story of the prodigal son. This is the death of despair. This is the death of hopelessness. This is the death of ruin, of addiction, of desperate loneliness. This is the living death of those who live without meaning, hope, love, joy—all of the aspects of life many of us take for granted. The death that was the father’s son who---when he came to himself—was received with joy. For he was dead and is now alive.

This is a resurrection story. But not one quite as obvious. This is the resurrection that dresses in the gorilla suit and beats its chest in the midst of basketball players. For whereas God was at work in Elijah, God was at work in Jesus to raise the dead, so God is at work in us, his church, to raise the dead that are around us. As God raised Jesus from the dead so God will raise us in the last day but until then, God calls us to live a life of resurrection and resurrecting.

For the spiritually and emotionally dead are among us. They might even worship with us from time to time. By understanding resurrection as an act of God in the here and now, we may be more sensitive to our calling to follow in the footsteps of the prophets and call the dead to life, which is to say to be the agents of God’s love, peace, forgiveness, hope, and reconciliation.

Those who missed the gorilla the first time will now see the gorilla for the rest of their lives. And this is also why it is important to continue to open and read the Bible. We cannot assume that we "know" it. God's Word continues to speak to us, reveal to us, call to us and change us by our encountering it in the text. The Bible speaks today but we have to take a step back from all that we think we know to allow ourselves to hear and see, maybe for the first time, those aspects of Jesus and of God that we need to hear and know. When we read the Bible we should look for the gorilla, expect the gorilla. From experience I can tell you there are few things more rewarding than to have a new understanding, a new awareness come to me out of the pages of this ancient text. Maybe that, in its own way, is a resurrection moment too.

If You Could Find Your Seats, Please.....

2010-06-06T11:02:00.001-07:00

we will get started blogging again. After a few weeks hiatus from blogging to deal with actual life, blogging will resume tomorrow. I will post today's sermon: The Gorilla in the Text and follow that up with a reflection on our week hosting a Miss Nebraska contestant. Haikus will return Wednesday and we will try to fulfill our promise to offer reflections on theology, religion, spirituality and culture. Thank you for your patience and please turn off all cell phones and refrain from using flash photography.

Thank you.

Haiku Wednesday

2010-05-19T15:05:00.000-07:00

Ego Trips

Ego to the store

Ego return home to nap

Ego where he wants.

I should mention that Wednesday Haiku is sponsored by Jenn at You know....That Blog. Each week there is a theme.... this week was ego.

I didn't want you to think I just dream this stuff out of nowhere.

A Meditation on the Occasion of Baptism

2010-05-15T11:08:00.001-07:00

Romans 6

"You also must consider yourselves dead to sin, and alive to God in Christ Jesus." Paul offers this summary statement to all the baptized. He does so in response to his own rhetorical question: If its all about grace, why don’t we all just sin constantly so that grace might pile up like autumn leaves?

It’s a good question and one, no doubt, many readers of this letter might pose. Paul’s understanding of the impact of Christ is quite astounding. With reference to Adam, Paul says that one man’s trespass led to the condemnation of all. But by one man’s righteousness, there is acquittal and life for all people. That is grace. Christ’s death and resurrection brings about what Paul calls elsewhere “The New Creation”. And he means this literally. God has started over. Everything is redeemed in Christ, including all of us. Baptism is the sign and signifier of this reality.

But what does that mean? What does baptism really mean? If it is Jesus’ death and resurrection that redeems each of us, why be baptized? For that matter, as Paul’s rhetorical question suggests, why not say, “thanks God” and live whatever kind of life we want?

To answer these very legitimate questions we will reflect on another event that is happening later today at the High School. Graduation. For as long as there has been organized education there have been graduations. Ceremony. Pageantry. Gowns and caps. Pomp and Circumstance relentlessly filling the air until the woodwind players lips feel like they will fall off. In my day we graduated from High School and college and graduate school if one chose to go there. My children have added to that list by first graduating from pre-school and, for Jamie anyway, “graduating” from fifth grade.

Why do we have graduation ceremonies? Are they necessary? Is the ceremony, in fact, when graduation happens? Really, no. Our high school graduates “graduated” from high school at that point when the registrar could affirm that they had successfully received credit in any and all necessary courses in the School’s curriculum. The students “graduate” in a moment, not of pomp and circumstance, but of paperwork.

So what becomes of the student who walks out of the school on the last day, gets in his car, and drives to California? Is he a high school graduate? Having spurned the celebration, the pomp, the degree handed out in the nice folder? Of course he is. And if he has left a forwarding address he should receive his diploma in the mail. But what if he doesn’t? Is he still a graduate? As long as the school retains his transcript then, yes, he is a graduate and the school can and should attest to that as needed.

But this is not what happens, generally, is it? Students do not leave the school on their last day and drive off into the sunset. They hang around for the graduation ceremony. They borrow the cap and gown. The file into the stadium. They hear their name called and receive their diploma from a school official while proud parents cheer and weep and check their watches.

Although not the “moment” of graduation, the ceremony is immensely important. Without such a ceremony, there is no public acknowledgement. There is no ritual. There is no visible, tangible sign of accomplishment. And what is more, the graduation ceremony is a communal event. We might imagine a different scenario wherein students went into a darkened room, one and a time, to receive a diploma and a handshake. But we do not do it that way, because graduation---education---is a shared act of a community. It is a celebration that makes a public display of a moment which precedes it.

And so it is with baptism. According to Paul, it was Christ’s death and resurrection that made life possible for all men. According to Paul, it was God’s act in Jesus Christ that brought reconciliation to all things and creatures. This is the “moment” of redemption. But my analogy to high school graduation is deficient in one very important way. Whereas graduation from High School signifies the accomplishment of the individual, the hard work and effort that has earned the graduate this moment in the hot sun, our redemption in Christ is accomplished for us without effort on our part. In Paul’s thinking, we are all hopelessly lost in Adam’s first sin and only God can bring us back from the brink. So in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting our sins against us, and making us new creatures in Christ. This is grace. Pure, unmerited grace.

So when the question is raised, “so if there is grace why don’t we sin all the time since grace will cover it?” To Paul is a predictable but misguided question. Why, Paul says, if you are dead to sin would you continue to dwell in it? Or may I risk extending high school analogy close to the breaking point.

I have met very few high school graduates who, upon graduation, intend to return to ninth grade the next fall. Why return to that which you have passed through? Instead, the graduate moves into a new life---maybe college, maybe a job, maybe a family, maybe all three. But having completed one thing, we move on to the next.

Paul says, in effect, we have graduated from sin. But unlike all of the late night study sessions that have gotten us through high school, we have graduated by virtue of Jesus’ death and resurrection. And having graduated from sin, we move on into grace.

How then shall we live as graduates from sin? With gratitude. With thanksgiving. Paul’s message to the Romans—really to all to whom he wrote—is that once a person comes to understand the gift of God’s grace in Jesus Christ, they cannot help but live lives of grateful obedience. This gratitude is displayed in many ways. We display it in the way we treat others, in the ways we practice our spiritual lives, by how we are good stewards of ourselves and the natural order. And because we are still of the world, although not bound to sin, we will rub elbows with sin and rub each other the wrong way. So we demonstrate our gratitude to God by the way in which we admit our fault and freely forgive one another. This is how sin loses its power in the world. Through confession and forgiveness. We build the kingdom of God of such grateful lives.

So for Jill, Tate, Erin, and Kelsey—this is graduation day. Some of our number, like Joy, have already graduated from their higher academic institutions. This is the day they publically recognize a prior truth—that they went the distance and met the requirements and may now be known as high school graduates.

This is Matthew Scott’s graduation day, as well. Today we celebrate with his family that his redemption has been secured by God’s grace in Jesus Christ. We proclaim that he is washed free of sin and its power in his life and in the life of the world. His baptism is the outward seal of an inner and prior reality---that he is, by the grace alone, a blessed child of God.

Flash Friday 55--

2010-05-14T06:49:00.000-07:00

Why 55? Why not 45? Or 36? Or is 66 possibly more potent or do we dare suggest 69? Is it less flashy in 25? Or tedious stretched to 75? Can we say something meaningful in three words, like, I love you? Or in one- NO! Perhaps 55 splits the difference. What do you think?

Nice to hear from you, Congressional Youth Leadership Council

2010-05-13T10:52:00.000-07:00

Some time ago I posted a story about our daughter, Jamie, being nominated for attendance at the Junior National Young Leader's Conference in Washington D.C. After research , as chronicled in the previous post, we chose to ignore it.

Some time later we received another letter. This letter reminded us of Jamie's pending status. It chastised us for presuming to ruin our daughter's life by denying her this once in a lifetime opportunity. In serious tones, the letter reminded us that spots are extremely limited for this honor and our failure to act immediately would surely lead to a life of drugs and depression for our daughter. We ignored it.

Today I recieved another letter which I just must share. Included with the letter was a piece of card stock listing the "Distinguished Alumni" from Jamie's school who previously attended this experience. There were three of them.

The letter went on to express that the organizers were thrilled with Jamie's nomination and that her deadline for enrollment had been extended by quite some time. In addition, as it might be inconvenient for Jamie now that the number of session available are limited, they offered a $400 dollar discount on tuition.

Nothing says rare, valuable, and highly selective opportunity quite like extended deadlines and deep discounts.

Instead, Jamie is attending a well respected program for high ability learners at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. She is very excited.

Haiku Wednesday

2010-05-12T06:40:00.000-07:00

I can't type today
So no hope for a haiku
Must be bad karma

Of Sneetches and the Spirit -- A sermon

2010-05-08T09:29:00.000-07:00

Acts 11, John 14

After centuries of scholastic pursuit of the deep meaning of the Gospel, one of the best interpreters could well be Dr. Seuss. Not that the good doctor necessarily had the New Testament in mind as he crafted his social parables. But so many of them strike so very close to the heart of Jesus' message. And this morning the parable that again comes to my mind is the plight of the Sneetches.

I know that I have referenced the Sneetches before. And yet we are accustomed to hearing familiar parables of Jesus more than once, so why not the Sneetches? But there may be some here not as familiar with the story, so a brief summary is in order.

The Sneetches are a race of beings who spend considerable amounts of time on the beaches. There is nothing to differentiate one Sneetch from another apart from this: some have stars on their bellies and some do not. This contrast leads to much unhappiness and civil discontent. The Sneetches with stars believe themselves to be the best kind of Sneetch on the beach and the ones without stars are inferior, which explains why they do not get invited to any frankfurter roasts.

One day a darkly mysterious character--McMonkey McBean-- arrives and offers to add stars to the Sneetches without. Over time McMonkey McBean drains the Sneetches of all their money in their frantic pursuit to be "better than" the other Sneetches by first having stars, then not having stars, then having stars again. In the end McBean leaves with all the money and the Sneetches are left staring at each other no longer certain who is who.

For our purposes this morning we are less concerned with the business model of McMonkey McBean and more concerned with the Sneetches as obsessed creatures of status. And the reason any of it is important this morning can be found in our reading from the book of Acts. What we are hearing today is Peter's account of the events recorded in chapter 10, of the time Peter received a vision from God to violate central tenants of Jewish faith as a prelude to bringing baptism to Gentiles. Gentiles are anyone not Jewish, and up to this point the Jesus movement has been an offshoot of Jewish practice. Being responsible for bringing salvation to those who were not already Jewish was a big deal for Peter and it did not make him popular with the home boys. When Peter arrived back at the mother church in Jerusalem, he was criticized for eating "with such men as this." Does that sound familiar? The Gospel portrays Jesus as being criticized for the same thing, for "eating and drinking with sinners." In this case, Peter was encouraged by a vision to eat things unclean by Jewish standards. But the menu is not the point. The point is inclusion. How is it, the home church wonders, that something that belongs to US is being given to people like THAT? How is it that we, who have stars, have to associate with those who have none upon thars?

This tension between the Jewish Christians and their Gentile counterparts is also reported by Paul in his own letters. Galatians, which is primarily concerned with this problem, contains a story Paul tells about Peter. "But when Peter came to Antioch I opposed him to his face for until certain people came from James (who was the head of the Jerusalem church) he used to eat with Gentiles. But after he came, he drew back and kept himself separate for fear of the circumcision faction. And the other Jews joined him in this hypocrisy." Who would have thought the early church was just another version of Middle School? And so it goes--factions form, sides are chosen, there are popular kids and not popular kids. Some Sneetches have stars upon thars and some do not. And so it goes.

Yet none of this should surprise us. This tension has never gone away throughout recorded history. We are, it seems, a very competitive species. We compete at everything. And this competition can be useful, helpful. It can promote growth and maturity. It can even be fun. Family game night is really family competition night. Someone has to win the game, right? Where would our culture be without sports? Sports are everywhere. There are people not here today because somewhere someone is competing in a sport. We have four wonderful high school kids who have spent a great deal of time competing--in softball, volleyball, track, swimming, academics, music, theater. They are no doubt better for it. Three of the four are attending school on sports scholarships and the other is a regents scholar in addition to other academic achievements. We learn from winning. We learn from losing. It is our nature to be competitive.

What lies at the heart of competition? What makes competition possible? Scarcity. There can be no competition where the prize is plentiful. Cows do not generally compete for grass. There is plenty for all. What makes a competition a competition is that there is not enough of the prize to go around. In nature the "prize" is enough food and water or sunlight. Not every tree in the forest can survive. Our competitions are rooted in this scarcity. This can be only one record holder in the 100 meter freestyle. There is only one Super Bowl Trophy. There is only one lead in the school musical, one first chair violin, only one Student Council President. For that matter this is only one President of the United States, a fact that generates an incredible amount of competition. There are only so many church goers in town, so churches compete for their attention. We compete for money, for prizes, for market share, for attention, for recognition, for status.....

Which brings us to the dark side of competition. The Sneetches were competing. What scarcity was at the heart of their competition? Not frankfurters. There were plenty of them. Not square mile of beach. Lots of beach. What was so scarce that they had to compete? Only this. Only one kind of Sneetch could be the best kind of Sneetch.

This is the dark side of competition. Healthy competition takes place in the arena of gifts, skills, and some luck, all governed by fairness and good sportsmanship. If we have a foot race, and start from the same position, you will win, because you are faster. If we have a competition involving various kinds of literary theory, I will win, because you won't play because that sounds really boring. But what if we had a competition to decide who was a more valuable human being? What if we competed to determine who had more value as a human being? How would we do that?

Well consider such competitions in our history. Reflect upon race relations in our country up through the civil rights movement and beyond. Reflect upon the encroachment of Europeans into the habitat of the Native Americans and the justifications for eliminating the natives. Consider Germany in the 1920s and 1930s and Hitler's interpretation as to which Sneetches had stars and which ones did not. Although that image is a big ironic, because in Hitler's Germany it was bad to have a star if it was the star of David.

When is competition not healthy? When the competition is rooted in a claim of fundamental superiority--the claim that one human being is superior to another on the basis of nothing more than opinion and the power to enforce that opinion. Competition is wrong when the prize is the value of a human soul.

Unfortunately the Bible is full of such competitions. Remember Cain and Abel, that did not end so well. Remember Isaac and Ishmael? Jacob and Esau? Moses and Pharaoh? How about King David and his sons. Talk about dysfunctional competition in the family.

And the disciples. They argue about which one of them is the greatest. They demand that Jesus do for them whatever they ask. They despise Samaritans and threaten to bring fire from heaven to consume them. But Jesus will have none of it. Whoever is first shall be last, he says. One must be as a child to enter the kingdom. When the disciples threaten with fire Jesus scolds them asking, what kind of Spirit are you of? Which brings us back to our text for this morning.

Because at the heart of the competition between the Jews and the Gentiles is the prize of the Holy Spirit. The question is: is the Spirit in short supply, to be hoarded by the chosen? Or is there an abundance of the Spirit so that it might be freely shared with all? Well, if we want to be special, if we want to be "better than" others, than we want a Spirit that is ours. We want to possess the Spirit so that we can determine, based upon our own prejudicial subjectiveness, who is deserving of it. Or the Spirit could belong to God, and God alone determines to whom the Spirit comes which is, according to the biblical witness, pretty much anyone who seeks it, who claims it, who gives their heart to it.

In John's Gospel Jesus tells his community not to be afraid. I do not give as the world gives, Jesus says. Do not let your hearts be troubled. And do not be afraid. Competition is rooted in scarcity. One prize, one record, one blue ribbon. Bad competition is also rooted in scarcity. A scarcity of love. It is the absence of love that creates the need to be superior. It is the absence of felt love and the absence of love to offer. It is a fundamental pathology to derive one's own self esteem from the injurious treatment of others. But this is how the world gives. This is how the world proceeds. There is a need to be "better than" someone else. I may believe that I am better than you because I am richer, whiter, more male, more straight, smarter, more honored. But that is all an illusion. For fundamentally I am not better than you because I am blessed of the same Spirit as you. And you are not better than me. We are not better than one another. We are children of God. We are heirs to the kingdom. It is the world that wants to separate us into groupings. But Jesus doesn't give to us as the world gives. So let us not be driven by fear and insecurity into the dark regions of social competition. Let us live in the light of Christ's love.

The Sneetches do figure that out. After McMonkey McBean drives away with all of their money and self-respect, they realize that there is no best kind of Sneetch on the beaches. And they have a frankfurter roast together. All of them. That sounds like a beautiful image of the Kingdom of God. Amen.

Ten Things You Don't Mind Hearing Your Near Teen Daughter Say

2010-05-07T07:52:00.000-07:00

1. Cutting yourself is stupid

2. I will never understand how girls allow themselves to become pregnant

3. Of course I have to go to choir practice. I am IN the choir. It is my responsibility

4. Two girls said they were going to fight after school. I felt I had to tell someone and see if I could stop it.

5. Do I have to eat all of that? How about a bite. A small bite. A minuscule bite.

6. My family is totally psycho. I love my family

7. I was trying to help them and they just kept blowing me off.

8. I really like your sermons

9. Dad, could you just, like, disappear now?

10. I love you, Daddy.

And I have heard them all..... and am very blessed with my almost teen going through puberty I hardly recognize you sometimes daughter.

Haiku Wednesday

2010-05-05T05:21:00.000-07:00

Steam on summer air

lifting as fragrant incense

from the sacred grass

And a bonus haiku

Nature nudges me

Sun and moon contest anew

for my allegiance

(I noticed that this is my 100th post. Not very thrilling for a 100th post but there ya go)

Silly Presbyterian Quiz

2010-05-04T05:21:00.000-07:00

This month the church celebrates Pentecost, so it becomes the subject of our quiz.

The Presbyterian Quiz

Pentecost Edition.

Why is the day called Pentecost?

A It is derived from the old Latin for “Penny cost” which is what a 16 oz mocha cost in biblical times.

B It is derived from the word for 50 which is the number of days between Jesus’ ascension and, well, Pentecost.

C It is derived from the Greek word for drunkenness as that is what the disciples were accused of.

D Easter and Christmas were already taken.

Easter has a bunny and Christmas has Santa. Why doesn’t Pentecost have a cuddly secular mascot?

A Several prototypes were tried but they kept burning up or blowing away.

B There is one. You’ve never heard of Sparky?

C One was developed but Santa’s legal team got involved and the threat of litigation was too great.

D Casper?

Why does Peter quote from the prophet Joel and not something more well known such as Nahum?

A The wind had blown his bible open to Joel.

B He was showing off because Barnabas had earlier quoted Haggai.

C Isaiah was so old school

D because the passage says “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh”. Silly.

If flames appeared over their heads? Why was there hair not burned?

A Their hair was made of the same stuff as the burning bush,

B They were all bald.

C History is silent on this subject

D I should be silent on this subject

If the spirit is like the rush of a mighty wind, does that make Nebraska the most spiritual of states?

A Yes

A Hymn for High School Graduates

2010-05-03T12:32:00.000-07:00

On this Sunday we recognize the high school graduates from our church. Each year I look to find appropriate music in our books, but nothing quite speaks to the occassion. So this year I decided to write my own hymn for High School graduates.

For those who know hymn tunes-- the hymn is set to Beach Spring. Its meter is 8.7.8.7 D

Years Ago You Came Before Us

Beach Spring-- 8.7.8.7 D

Years ago you came before us
new and blessed as water poured.
Prayers were offered, words were spoken
Holding you as one adored.

What we promised on that morning
was to love and care for you.
So we pray that we have offered
gentle guidance as you grew.

In your teen years there were trials
as your struggled to become
the great blessing God had made you
in your school, your church, your home.

There were tears and consternation,
there was joy and happiness.
But throughout your maturation
there was God's great graciousness.

Now you stand here in our presence
Yet again, a child of love.
Where once a drop of water
brought the Spirit like a dove.

That same Spirit now goes with you
as you grow beyond these walls.
Take our love, our prayers and blessings
as you serve the God of all.

Text: Copyright 2010 by James R. Hawley

Haiku Wednesday

2010-04-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

A commonly claimed

Connection: storms and rainbows.

Yet which is more real?

Light beams conjure the

Rainbow, slicing water drops

a tempting cascade

of colored wonder

Cheshire Cat’s inverted grin

Vanishing as fast

And while we ponder

Nature’s bold magnificence,

The next storm gathers

On the horizon

Behind our glazed gaze, bringing

Unbridled fury.

Poetry

2010-04-23T09:56:00.000-07:00

My 55 today is rooted in my recent experience of introducing my father to the nursing home, but it is not particularly autobiographical. Dad does suffer from Parkinson's related dementia but it still fairly conversant at times. But the image I tried to capture was one that I have seen on many occasions and is, I believe, where my father is inevitably headed.

But I also wrote a poem which I have decided to post as well. This one does come directly from my most recent experience. Thanks for the kind words from those who have commented.

At Sunset

He stares into his palm

Wonderment as a god

Embracing his own.

And I with equal wonder

Stare into what’s absent

Beyond the tangled hand.

So we remain side by side

Both convinced of that

Which is seen and unseen.

Agreement is irrelevant

For two bound by love

Which engulfs the distance.

Friday 55

2010-04-23T05:08:00.000-07:00

In The Nursing Home

He stares with wonder at the object I do not see. Who’s to say whose reality is worth more? There are many things I cannot see. The nurse comes to take him to dinner. He carries his object with him and I walk behind wondering what else he possesses that is lost to me forever.

Wednesday Haiku

2010-04-20T13:40:00.000-07:00

Greetings. I will be leaving town tomorrow morning so I thought I would post the Wednesday Haiku this afternoon. I understand the theme is "flame". Here ya go.

I stared into flames

Until I saw nothing but

The cosmos’ first spark

It flared through my soul

Burning all but trace remnants

Of clay and scarred earth

Bits and pieces, shards

Of creation’s first fumbling

Skeletal and dry

Yet deep within the

Cavernous darkness a trace

Of moisture remained

Which defied the flames

And slowly seeped upward towards

Heat’s flickering threat

Defiant and bold

Quenching the thirst of ages

Until it engulfed

The ravenous flame

Now the glowing residue

domesticated

Status Report

2010-04-19T19:37:00.000-07:00

Hello to All who happen by here:

My parents are entering a rather difficult transition period in the next few days and that will occupy much of my time. I will try to post a Haiku tomorrow and a short 55 on Friday.... but I am not sure how much I will be able to post. I doubt this presents much of a crisis to you, my considerate readers, but I hope you will pop back by now and again and check and not fall to far out of the habit of checking in.

Be well and happy blogging.

Another Sestina

2010-04-19T04:22:00.000-07:00

Last week I posted a poem about my witch ancestors. It happened to be a sestina poem but was somewhat modified in form.

As I have nothing else planned, I thought I would post another sestina I wrote. This one follows the traditional pattern of repeating the end words at the end of the lines and not within them.

I hope you enjoy it.

A Lost Dialogue

What brings you out ‘neath this tall pine, Socrates?

My legs, good Philiapoesis, and my desire for better thought.

I see, Socrates, you appear to be in good form.

I would be better to hear of your mind

for it is clear you are delighting in much pleasure.

I am doing what I do best. Writing a poem.

How wonderful to write a poem!

Yes, it is a gift of the gods. Do you write, Socrates?

No, the gods have given me different pleasures.

Would you read my poem? I desire your thought.

In a moment. Right now something else comes to mind.

What is a poem? Is its beauty in the sentiment or the form?

Ah, Socrates, the beauty is in the form!

I see. Form alone, this is the meaning of the poem?

I do not understand. What is on your mind?

Do you question the beauty of the form, Socrates?

If it is form alone, my friend, and not the heart and thought

of mind, could poetry reach the heights of true pleasure?

The discipline of restricting words to form pleasures

the mind. It is a puzzle—the words in their proper form.

It does puzzle me that you think thus—I would have thought

that beauty dwells in the structure and truth of the poem.

Do you find no truth in mere form, Socrates?

May I read your poem? Do you mind?

Not at all! What an honor to be understood by your mind.

Many of your words are repeated several times, like “pleasure.”

Those are the rules of the poem! Do you like it, Socrates?

What does it mean,? Reveal its truth, if you don’t mind.

Truth, Socrates? Follow the rules! That is the truth of the poem.

One shelves words like one shelves books? Is that your thought?

Well, perhaps I have not given enough thought

to the importance of the heart as well as the mind

So there is more than form to the good poem?

The form conveys to the heart and mind pleasures.

But beauty and truth may lie elsewhere than the form?

You may be right, Socrates.

We must try harder if the truth we seek is to come to mind.

Some other day, Socrates, right now I desire other pleasures.

Good day. I will give more thought to your words about a poem.

Peter, Paul, and Us- A Sermon

2010-04-17T12:44:00.000-07:00

Sermon for Sunday, April 18, 2010.

Peter, Paul, and Us

John 21:1-19, Acts 9:1-9

I don’t often remember my dreams. I seldom dream things worth remembering and never dream things worth mentioning in sermons. But I had a dream this week which I think has some bearing on one of our texts this morning. It was, perhaps, inspired by the text.

I do not remember all of the dream. But I remember the cats. And the dogs. It seems there was a family gathering of some kind joined with some other people and everyone seemed to have cats and dogs. I was given a kitten as a gift.

Now it is true that my family enjoys their animals. Everyone has cats and three of the four of us have at least one dog. Our family has but one dog and one cat which really makes us amateurs by Hawley family standards.

But back to the dream. Lots of cats and dogs. And, for some reason, in my dream, I felt responsible for taking care of them all. The image I remember vividly is opening the door to see a multitude of cats and dogs all wanting to come in, all needing something. I felt overwhelmed.

Now the reason I think this dream matters is because of Jesus’ statement to Peter about feeding his sheep. It is commonly understood that chapter 21 of John was not a part of the original gospel. It was added at some later time and, based upon its content, seems to have two purposes. One purpose is to clarify some later opinion concerning the disciple whom Jesus loved. That is not our concern this morning so we will bracket that concern. What is more to the point this morning is the rehabilitation of Peter’s image. Peter was a crucial leadership figure in the early church and there were no doubt detractors who preferred another’s leadership instead. It was Peter, after all, who denied Jesus three times. It is hard to get a job in the Church with that on your record. But John 21 sets everything right. Peter confesses his love three times—one for each denial—and is given his marching orders from Jesus. Feed my sheep. And that is what I think my dream was about. Feeding the sheep, and how hard it is to do that sometimes.

Remember Michael Dukakis? He was Governor of Massachusetts and the Democratic candidate for President in the year that George H. W. Bush was elected president. I remember Michael Dukakis because I remember the moment I decided not to vote for him. It was during a televised debate, something I ordinarily do not watch. Dukakis was opposed to capital punishment and the moderator of the debate, Bernard Shaw of CNN, asked the governor this question: If your wife were brutally attacked and murdered, would you favor the death penalty for her assailant? Dukakis’ answer was offered in a reasoned, level-headed, dispassionate way: “Why, no. I would not.” I do not remember what he said after that because I stopped listening.

I thought, "you lying fox." You see, I also oppose capital punishment. But if someone brutally murdered my wife I would truthfully want to remove their head with a spade. Which, I would argue, is why we need laws. We need laws to govern us from our passions. We need laws established in non-stressful times to guide our paths in the stressful times. It is understandable and permissible to feel certain ways. It is not always right to act based upon our feelings alone.

So when Jesus says “feed my sheep” we can certainly understand his concern. There are many sheep and they do need tending. But we must avoid the Michael Dukakis approach to this text. That approach would be to quietly, rationally agree and imply that nothing less is acceptable. But this is dishonest. Because there are times when we are worn out, exhausted, waiting to find out when it is our turn to be fed for a change.

My dream and this text are the tributaries that flow from my life circumstance right now. My mother will have knee surgery in ten days. My father will be admitted to the Presbyterian Manor in Lawrence. Mom cannot walk and Dad cannot understand all that is happening to him and around him. My brother and his wife are exhausted from all of the wonderful but difficult work they have been doing to assist my parents. My other brother and sister are exhausted from worry and tormented by academic schedules and responsibilities that make their participation in these events difficult. Amy and I are exhausted from living somewhere in between—somewhat helpful in Lawrence but also concerned that with all of our obligations it is hard to be more supportive.

And you know my point is not to focus on my particular condition. It is simply the condition about which I am most familiar. But I know many of you are also tired, exhausted, spent from the ways in which you are feeding the sheep in your lives.

This week at the Presbyterian Women Circle meetings we considered the next to last lesson on the book of Joshua. It concerned rest. Where to we find rest? For Joshua rest meant no one was attacking at the moment. Maybe many of us can relate to that. The author of the study also wanted to draw in Hebrews wherein rest is associated with the Sabbath. God rested on the seventh day and so shall we. And, naturally, there is the rest that comes at the end of our days. Our rest in the arms of God.

Where do we find our rest? But, what may be more on our minds, are we entitled to any? Jesus is full of mixed messages. Be perfect, he says, as your Father in heaven is perfect. If you do not feed, cloth, visit, water the poor then you will be cast into the outer darkness. If you love me, feed my sheep.

But Jesus also says do not worry. Jesus says that he loves us and we are to love one another. Jesus says God sent the Son into the world for salvation and not condemnation. And in the same gospel wherein Jesus says be perfect, he invites all who are weary and carry a heavy burden to come to him, for he will give them rest.

The companion piece to this morning’s John reading is the conversion of Paul by a vision of Jesus. Like Peter, Paul had issues. Principally his resume was full of church persecution. He was a Pharisee---a perfect one it appears---who had it in for this new sect of Judaism which followed the peasant Messiah Jesus. But when the peasant turned radiant king addressed Paul from the sky, Paul changed his mind and his ways and became the Church’s first great international ambassador.

But he didn’t change completely. Sometimes Paul can be as demanding in grace as he was in the law. He can be manipulative as when he coerces money out of the Macedonians for the church in Jerusalem. He can be judgmental, as when he orders a man thrown out of the church for sexual misbehavior. In short, he can be as much of a mess as Peter or you and I.

But why should Peter and Paul be any different from, say, Abraham who fathered a child with his wife’s maid (his wife told him to do it) and then cast her and her son out (again, his wife and God told him to do it—but still….) Or Jacob who stole his brother’s blessing with the help of their mother. Or David who fathered Solomon with another man’s wife and then tried to have that man killed. Or Solomon who made his own people slaves. Well, you get the point. God, for God’s own reasons, chooses over and over again to work out his purpose with a rag-tag group of folks who are far from perfect, far from entirely committed, far from saintly.

So if we are inclined to say, as I am from time to time, that I am not fit for the Kingdom of Heaven because I just don’t have the energy for it right now, then we are in good company. Jesus asked Peter if he loved him. Peter said yes. We have no reason to believe Peter lied. Then Jesus said, feed my sheep. Did he mean that very moment? Drop everything and go? Probably not. After all, think about the setting for this conversation. A breakfast which Jesus prepared. Not only has Jesus fried the fish, but Jesus made the catch possible. Jesus, in essence, feeds his sheep before he asks anyone else to feed anyone else’s sheep. And that is the part of the story we do not always remember. We hear “feed my sheep” as a command. And perhaps it is. But the command is never the first thing. Nor is it the last thing. It is the middle thing. What comes first is the love and sustenance which Jesus offers. The last thing is the assurance of everlasting life. What happens in the middle are our best efforts to balance the demands in our life—to offer assistance and aid where we are able—and to remember that we, too, are deserving of care and compassion.

I do not travel much anymore, if I can help it. But I remember what the flight attendants say before every take off. If the oxygen masks should be required, secure your own mask first. Then help those who need assistance. Jesus cooked the fish and fed his own. He then sent his own into the world. Come to me, Jesus said, and I will give you rest. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. When we feel overly burdened by the world and our lives, we should not think of Jesus’ words as piling on. Rather, they are grace. They remind us that we, too, are among the sheep to be fed. And our families—our parents, our children—are among the sheep we are ask to feed. And the Lord is the shepherd of us all, and we shall not want.

Flash Friday 55-- Early

2010-04-15T17:44:00.000-07:00

I have decided to join in Flash Friday 55.... but am posting Thursday. Oh well....

Requiem

If you had only fifty-five words left to use, what nouns would mean the most? Would you act on those verbs you had always meant to use? Could you describe to your adjectives how you really feel about them? Would you reconcile with the sentence fragments? Would these questions mark the end of your period?

Haiku Wednesday

2010-04-14T05:04:00.000-07:00

It is my understanding that in some parts of the blogosphere it is Haiku Wednesday. Today's theme is dance. As I have nothing else planned..... here is a modest effort.

Sun invited me

To dance in the shadows of

Crystal palaces

Moon invited me

To dance in the twilight of

Ancient cathedrals

Stars invited me

To dance past the threshold of

Time—infinite waltz

You invited me

To dance in hand-me-down-clothes

Alone in the dark

I said to the sun

The moon and the stars, thank you

My dance card is full

Sunday in Salem

2010-04-13T14:37:00.000-07:00

While in my graduate poetry seminar I was required to write a lengthy poem around a series of family photographs. The poem turned into a journey through my family ancestry. As part of that poem, I wrote a sestina about the subject matter of my last post-- my ancestors who were hanged for being "witches".

For those who do not know, a sestina is a poetic form and a somewhat complicated one. The poem consists of six stanzas of six lines each. The ending word of each line must be repeated according to a certain pattern in the subsequent stanzas. The poem concludes with three lines which must contain all six words. My teacher was fond of taking forms and changing them. Hence, the following poem does not repeat the words at the end of the lines but embeds them in the line. The proper pattern of repetition is followed.

My sestina is the product of a beginner. Still, its subject matter is important to me so I post it here.

Sunday in Salem

There were warm days, no doubt,

but I can only imagine the cold.

Stripped, scarecrow trees. Green leaves.

A stark memory none could remember.

Barren as puritan souls

feeding like ravens on carrion fear.

Did fear prompt those children’s taunts?

No doubt it was something more.

Remember the smell of importance

mixing with wet leaves.

Warm attention on a cold night.

They traded a soul for fifteen minutes of fame.

He preached soul's salvation—

Rev. Parris—vendor of fear and failure.

Happily made his fire with tinder of doubt

while the congregation remembered the cries

of teenagers, cries that frightened away

whatever reason remained in the cold winter.

Sarah stormed into that cold on Sacrament Sunday.

Her sister, Rebecca, kindest soul, accused.

They feared the devil himself. Sarah’s rebuke

gripped the village and no doubt they would

remember her outrage and finger her next.

Truth now brittle as December leaves.

The spectral evidence leaves little doubt

Sarah, Mary, and Rebecca chained in a cold

prison cell, a rope waiting for any who doubt

the teen’s fear, shrinking from specters

who pinched and strangled their souls.

None could remember a time before witches.

Sarah remembered years after the hanging

and cried for justice, to leave a mark on history

like the marks on the cold necks of 19 women.

Three sovereigns the judgment of the puritan souls

whose hysteria and fear, fed by the words

of young girls, who, other times, they would surely doubt.

Before leaving the story of fear

the poet remembered today’s puritan souls

who never doubt the other’s sin.

The Lessons of History

2010-04-12T17:15:00.000-07:00

The summer before her 11^th birthday my daughter waited for her letter from Hogwarts. In spite of my assurances that, as muggles, she stood little chance (not to mention that American witches do not go to Hogwarts, only English ones), she lived in optimism until it was clear that her invitation was not to be.

Muggle I may be, but had there been an American equivalent to Hogwarts than perhaps Jamie might get invited to attend. After all, her ninth great grandmother was a witch.

Well, accused of being one. But the context was far from the romantic imagination of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The time was 17^th Century New England. The Place: Salem.

Years ago when we lived in New York, my wife and I made a stop in Salem. There are many interesting things to see in Salem. Although our schedule did not allow us to take in “Dracula’s Castle” or the “Horror Wax Museum”, we did stop at the House of Seven Gables, which Hawthorne made famous in his dark “romance” of the same name. We saw a film on Essex County presented by the National Park Service. We stopped at “Pioneer Village”, a facsimile of seventeenth century colonial life, where a blacksmith forged a nail for us with his hammer and anvil.

And there were witches. There were witches on street signs, witches on doorways, witches on cafes, taverns, and souvenir shops. Each witch recalled Salems infamous legacy; the witchcraft trials of 1692

My (8^th) great grandmother, Sarah Cloyce, was among those accused of witchcraft. So were her sisters, Rebecca Nurse and Mary Esty. Although Sarah managed to avoid the gallows, Rebecca and Mary were not as fortunate. They were hanged, Rebecca on July 19 and Mary on September 22. I stood at the grave of the magistrate who officiated at my relative’s trials. What must he have been thinking? What were any of them thinking?

I have consulted “The Annals of Witchcraft in New England” published in 1869. It claims to be the first survey of its kind and is notably sympathetic to those accused. I found these entries regarding my (8) great aunts:

Mary Esty…appears to have been a meek and amiable lady, and the judges seemed somewhat staggered when in this character she stood before her accusers. But as yet the monsters (the children who accused her) had met with no check, and their testimony was believed by the imbecile court. After her condemnation, she made a most touching Petition to the judges in which she besought them “not for my life, but, if possible, that no more innocent blood be shed.” All availed nothing.

This entry concerned Rebecca Nurse.

“She was sacrificed in a manner too cruel for belief. The jury returned a verdict of not guilty, but the court, by the most barefaced perversion of her answers, sent the jury out again and forced a verdict of guilty from them! There is nothing more memorable, or lamentable, in all the trials and convictions than the case of this poor woman.”

Two hundred years later, history had begun to reinterpret who were the “victims” and who were the “monsters”.

Salem’s witchcraft hysteria is one of the first recorded instances of intolerance and persecution in the new Colony. Since then, the witch trials have served a symbolic reminders that intolerance continues. For example, is was the McCarthyism of the 1950s that prompted Arthur Miller to revisit Salem in his play “The Crucible”

Today intolerance continues to plague our society in many and varied forms. What will history say of us, two hundred years from now, concerning our failures to properly identify the “victims” from the “monsters”. History must live in the present to keep us from creating tomorrow’s shame.

Weekend Update

2010-04-10T16:28:00.001-07:00

Congratulations to the Hawley children for outstanding performances over the weekend!

In the season opener Aaron dazzled the near capacity crowd as his AYSO soccer team battled to a 2-2 draw.

Jamie's reading team from Adams Middle School (7-8 grade division) took second overall at the statewide competition. The students spent the year reading from a list of classic children's literature and in the competition answered questions about the books.

Also of note, wife Amy performed a perfect wedding marred only by the father of the bride telling her to get him another vodka. No word on whether she complied.

UPDATE: We have learned that Amy did, in fact, obtain one vodka for said old person. He threw it back in one gulp and handed her the glass and said "Let's do that again." At that point she thought leaving all together to be the best approach. We were glad to have her home.

Overheard While Driving Son's Third Grade Field Trip

2010-04-08T17:58:00.000-07:00

I can’t find the seatbelt

You’re sitting on it

No I’m not

Is anyone burned?

Burned?

Yea, I’m reading a book on CPU and I can treat burns

Chemical burns, electrical burns… who has a chemical burn

I got a burn

How?

Church

How?

Steam

I don’t treat that…. What’ya do?

Put ice on it

That’ll work

Hey Sudoku!

That’s my book

Can I do one

Sure

You know how to do Sudoku?

Then why do you want to do it?

Its easy

How?

Answers on page 67

Where’re we going?

Fairgrounds

Oh, is that near my grandmother’s house?

How would I know?

Finished

What?

Finished the Sudoku

You know sometimes I don’t cheat

Me too

Hey a fortune cookie!

That’s mine

Why is your car so dirty?

What’s it say?

You will soon find love

That’s for you!

No it’s for you

Hey that reminds me

My sister’s boyfriend came over last night

Yuck

He wanted to take her to a disco stick.

A what?

A disco stick

Is that like a stripper pole

What’s a stripper pole?

Hey the Fairgrounds

Where are the toys?

Toys?

Yea like that big circle thing

That’s the fair you dork

Yea the fairgrounds

That’s in the summer

So what’s this

Why are we here

Hey we’re first

(sound of door opening)

Hey wait up—what’s a stripper pole?

Scrabbling the Rules

2010-04-08T08:15:00.000-07:00

I don't play a lot of Scrabble. This is due mainly to my inability to spell. So I was only mildly amused when I saw Stephen Colbert's spoof on Scrabble changing the "rules" in new editions. Apparently, the new rules will allow for proper names, nouns, etc. The goal, as Colbert's precise journalism explained it, was to enable the game to be better played by younger people.

This morning's local newspaper also features a story on this seemingly growing crisis. This article focused on the outrage spreading across the internet about this blasphemy. New rules!? For Scrabble? How dare they?

Speaking personally, there seem to be very few times when I have played a game that the rules mattered much at all. There was that time when Jamie, before she knew how to read, made a move in Candy Land which was "against the rules". When I questioned her about it she picked up the instructions, held them were I could not see them, and "read" where her move was legal.

There was the time I was playing monopoly with my son and he announced his plan to own the entire side of the board that contained green properties and the two jewels. He accomplished his task, amazingly, during my one short trip to the bathroom.

Now I know, there is a difference between "cheating" and "new rules". And we do discourage cheating, of course. But it is inevitable within social discourse that rules will be negotiable, and as long as the power balance is maintained, or the more powerful willing to relinquish power (as the adult does when letting the child play "by other rules") then such rules adjustment can help insure not just fairness, but justice. Rules serve, generally, to provide the framework for playing. For the game to have meaning, there have to be some boundaries set up. And of course those boundaries are pliable, either by mutual consent (preferable) or by autonomous decision (not preferable).

You and I both know, for more than 50 years, around dinner tables in America, parents have let their children play names, cities, etc. in Scrabble. Perhaps the rare parent has said, sternly, "No--that is against the rules!! You may not play Mickey Mouse!!!!!!"

But then those parents are no fun anyway.

Rules, they say, are meant to be broken. Or, more precisely, rules were made for human beings, not human beings for the rules. And in terms of the great social questions of the larger society, the same "rule" applies.

And The Winner Is....

2010-04-07T04:47:00.000-07:00

Julie.... I think.

The untrue statement from yesterday is number 17. I have, in fact, attended two Nebraska football games in 11 years. Nebraska lost both times so I am not allowed to attend any more.

Everything else is true, either objectively or subjectively.

Today my son's third grade class is scheduled to go on a field trip to the fairgrounds. I am driving for said event. Naturally, because the children are scheduled to go to this largely dirt venue, it snowed last night just enough to make everything wet and nasty. Will they still go?

Time will tell.

Random Things

2010-04-06T03:21:00.000-07:00

It is the week after Easter. Whew. That was a busy week. And so serious! Look at the blog entries for last week. Long tomes on the Gospel of Luke. Dark poetry. Serious stuff indeed!

But I do not always want to be serious. My Facebook presence is really quite silly, and I am lucky to have a lot of long-time friends who are silly with me. I guess this is where I come to express my more serious and questioning side.

Which, frankly, is what it is for. But sometimes it is a bit much even for me.

I have a friend who blogs and a hate her because she has so many more followers and gets more comments for a post reading "not posting today" than I get for some piece I have spent weeks writing.

But I realize it might be hard to post comments. After all, you have to sign in and if you don't have a user name you have to create one blah blah blah.

Well this same friend, whom I hate, showed me how to change the settings to allow anonymous comments, which I have done, in hopes of encouraging more comments. After all, isn't the blogging world really, at the end of the time, a competition? :-)

Anyway.

I am not very techie. I knew the end had begun when I went looking for a cd player for the car. The salesman was showing me all of the latest models with all these bells and whistles and I said "I just need something that will play a cd". Then it hit me. I am old.

So I don't really get a lot of the things other people do on Facebook. I don't quite understand all the "apps". And I came to believe that Farmville really should not be as difficult as it seemed to me so I gave up. (do you hear that all of you who keep sending me these silly farmville requests)

But there is one thing that Facebook folk do that I have thought about doing and decided to do it here. List 25 random things about yourself.

But I thought I would add a twist. Here are 24 random things about me people probably do not know. But one of them is not true. Can you guess which one? (Man I am desperate for comments)

These are in no particular order, it is just the order in which I think of them (as I am making this up pretty much as I go)

1 My first career was as a radio/TV sportscaster. I have interviewed athletes such as Reggie Jackson and Kareem Abdul Jabbar.

2 My brother is a former space shuttle astronaut who has flown in space five times

3 My father offered a prayer at the national memorial service for the astronauts of the space shuttle Challenger. (If 2 is true than 3 is probably true)

4 I am completely in love with my Ipod Touch

5 I think the first three seasons of Spongebob Squarepants are funny and I have them all on DVD

6 I have written a thesis of poetry but, prior to that, had never written a poem in my life.

7 I nearly died during my birth, as my umbilical cord became separated from me while I was still in the womb.

8 I have experienced an earthquake, blizzard, and tornado in my life. But no hurricane.

9 I am a Sigma Nu--- having joined that fraternity in college.

10 I was also a member of a secret, sub rosa organization in college (although I cannot recall what if any purpose it had)

11 If I were not a Presbyterian I would be an Episcopalian.

12 If I could make one pilgrimage in my life it would be to Cambridge, England to witness A Festival of Lessons and Carols by the King's College Choir.

13 My life is not very interesting so it is difficult to come up with 25 of these things.

14 My children are the dearest thing in the world (you may not select this as the untrue item)

15 My first car was a Ford Pinto

16 I have offered the opening prayer at a session of Nebraska's Unicameral Legislature (there was no one in the chamber at the time I did it)

17 Although I have lived in Nebraska 11 years, I have never been to a Nebraska football game.

18 My daughter has published a poem.

19 My son has fired a shotgun once in his life and hit the turkey he was aiming for. 1 for 1.

20 I am sad right now that it is so difficult, after 49 years, to think of enough interesting things about myself to fill up a mere 25 slots.

21 I am afraid of heights... or ladders... or roofs. But I cannot go up a ladder and I am scared of edges.

22 I nearly died one day in the Adirondack mountains. I was sliding off a rock and gripped it with my fingernails when I realized the size of the drop had I not been able to stop.

23 All of my siblings are PhD scientists and teach and major state universities. Each is highly decorated in their respective fields.

24 My father was in a play in college with the actor Peter Falk. And had a bigger part.

25 My eighth great grandmother and eighth great aunt were accused of witchcraft is Salem, Mass. and my aunt was hanged. There is a movie about this called "Three Sovereigns for Sarah". My eighth great grandmother was named Sarah Cloyce.

Well there you have it. A bit of non-essential writing for the day.

Happy Monday

2010-04-04T19:51:00.001-07:00

.... to everyone. Now that the Easter weekend has come and gone we are hitting the road for a day in search of R & R. Will resume blogging Tuesday.

In the meantime, if you are so inclined, why not say hello? Leave a comment as a kind of "guest book". Thank you for stopping by....

Easter Sunday- 2010

2010-04-04T03:55:00.000-07:00

Haiku From the Empty Tomb

Mary thought he was

The gardener, and he was--

Harvesting the sown.

Peter looked with doubt

Smelling dust and fragrant wisps

Left trailing behind.

Judas was irate

With the waste of precious oil

But the woman knew

To wait would be waste

For in the tomb the ointment

Would not be needed.

The stone was heavy

The angel was stronger still

He sat and laughed, laughed.

Angels in the tomb

Are scarier than angels

In a winter’s sky

Jesus is Risen!

Why will they not believe it

Even to this day

Easter Sermon 2010

2010-04-03T06:37:00.001-07:00

Text: Luke 24

The Easter sermon, what could be easier? Surely if there is one Sunday of the year when the preacher’s task is easy, this ought to be the one. For there is an expectancy in the air. There is a contagion on our numbers. There is an enthusiasm in the music that lifts us all. And there is, no doubt, within us a longing to hear again the affirmation of resurrection life.

But the Easter message? That is another matter! For in spite of all of our obvious sense of expectancy and preparation, there is something within us that resists the message. As evidence I want to tell you about an artifact I preserve from my father’s many years of service at the Presbyterian Church in Salina, Kansas. There was a time when a group would meet after the service to discuss the sermon. To facilitate this discussion a text of the sermon was supplied prior to the service, for note taking and reference in the discussion. One Easter Sunday the title of the sermon was Death, then Life! What makes this particular sermon memorable is that in the act of transcription, the secretary of the church, whose habit it was to put the sermon title on each subsequent page, transposed these two words, death and life. So after page one the title of the sermon appears as a header in bold print: Life, then Death! Now I don’t know if it was my father’s habit to proof the transcript but I am not sure it would have mattered. You see, this is what is so deeply embedded in our human experience. On Easter we proclaim Death, then Life! But once we are back into the world, the message returns to Life, then Death!

But we are in good company, for the disciples were slow in heart to believe, which is all the more astonishing given the greater degree of evidence that seemed to have. We would expect each of the gospels to agree on key points of Jesus’ life; his crucifixion, his resurrection, and each indeed tells this story. But it might be more remarkable to us that in each gospel we have evidence of Jesus’ followers moving from death to life, and then right back again to life to death. The women of Mark’s tomb who say nothing to anyone because they are afraid. Thomas, the disciple in John who will not believe until he can feel the physical evidence. The disciples on the road to Emmaus who can tell the story with their lips but cannot embrace it with their hearts. Matthew tells us of those who told the story that Jesus was not really raised at all, but had his body stolen by the disciples.

A few years ago the Discovery channel showed a feature wherein the lost tomb of Jesus was supposedly discovered which included, presumably, his bones. Now it doesn’t take much to interest the public in areas such as this, but I wonder if part of our fascination, if there really is any, is that some part of us hopes that this is true, because it would make things simpler. Because we do understand, at some level, that if Jesus is raised from the dead that changes everything. It is not only a hope for our own resurrection and the comfort that death is not the last word, but it also means that if Jesus is raised than what Jesus said was true--all of it-- and that the kingdom of God has come with power. We are called to live in the world differently. That is why the Easter message, as distinct from the Easter sermon, is not as easy.

I knew of a man once who was very much like the disciples in Luke's story. He was fully immersed in the Gospel story, but he kept it on an intellectual plane. Finally the man admitted his true difficulty. “If I were to admit that Christ was Lord, then I would have to give up things I have done all my life. I would have to change the way I make a living, and I can’t do that." He had heard the call correctly, for he knew that in a very real way he would have to die first if he were to follow Christ. Jesus said those who lose their life for my sake and the gospel will find it. Those so save their lives will lose it. That is the preamble to the resurrection message.

For the gospel tells us that resurrection is not just applicable to our physical death. When we allow God to enter into our lives and lead us in the ways of the kingdom, we can expect a resurrection-like change. But it is often so hard. But when the alcoholic abandons drink for good, when the Meth addict kicks the habit forever, when the teenager on the path to self-destruction reunites with his parents who have themselves discovered a responsibility to love him or her, there is resurrection. When we are able to face the imperfections that limit and immobilize us, when we can face the demons that deprive us of the fullness of life, then we know that our life--and the lives of others-- can change for the better. In these moments we understand and know in our hearts that the God who can and does transform lives here and now, that the God who invites us to die now to the self-destructive behaviors that keep us from being fully alive, that God is the same God who will be there at our physical death. And the God that loves and cares for us in this life will not abandon us at our death. That is the Gospel promise and that is the message of Resurrection.

But change is difficult. We know that. We don’t like it. Psychologists have taught us that even positive change brings great stress. There is a scale that measures stress in points and many of the life events with the largest number of points are things we would consider positive. The psychologists tell us the body knows no difference. Whatever the change, no matter how welcomed in one way, produces stress on our bodies and minds. We resist this impact. We resist change. And what could be greater change than the resurrection of Jesus Christ?

The disciples must have felt that way. Maybe this explains why they seemed so blind to the good news that walked beside them. If they had stress tests back then, how many points would you associate with Roman Occupation? Man claiming to be Messiah? Death of a close friend? Resurrection of a close friend? How many points could that possibly have? No, we don’t need to feel badly if we are slow to embrace all the resurrection means to us and to humanity generally. It is a big change. It leads us to make many changes, to open ourselves up in scary ways. Jesus invited us to die so that we might live with him in the kingdom. He invited us to take up the cross as he did. He walks with us on the dusty road and opens the scripture to us, breaks the bread with us and, as we recognize him in all of his glory, leaves us to carry on in his name.

History, your history and mine, our individual histories and our common history are a part of God’s ongoing act of creation and redemption. This does not mean that just any change is welcome or useful. The change that is worth the trouble is the change that gives growth and vitality to human life, to the church, to society. This is the message of Easter; it is of the Gospel of God active still in the course of human events. For God is a God of life. He calls us to commit ourselves to Him. He calls us to seek our security in him, and as we are willing to let all else go, to seek our security and place our trust only in him, then we know the glory of the Resurrection. Out of death, life. That is our hope, that is our experience and the reason why, in the midst of whatever change, or threat, or death, we look confidently and expectantly past the empty cross, the empty tomb, the emptiness of Easter, to the life beyond.

Holy Week- Saturday

2010-04-03T03:42:00.000-07:00

There is one particular day in Western history about which neither historical record nor myth nor Scripture make report. It is a Saturday. And it has become the longest of days. We know of that Good Friday which Christianity holds to have been that of the Cross. But the non-Christian, the atheist, knows of it as well. This is to say that he knows of the injustice, of the interminable suffering, of the waste, of the brute enigma of ending, which so largely make up not only the historical dimension of the human condition, but the everyday fabric of our personal lives. We know, ineluctably, of the pain, of the failure of love, of the solitude which are our history and private fate. We know about Sunday. To the Christian, that day signifies an intimation, both assured and precarious, both evident and beyond comprehension, of resurrection, of a justice and a love that have conquered death. If we are non-Christians or non-believers, we know of that Sunday in preciously analogous terms. We conceive of it as the day of liberation from inhumanity and servitude. We look to resolutions, by they therapeutic or political, be they social or messianic. The lineaments of that Sunday carry the name of hope.

But ours is the long day's journey of the Saturday. Between suffering, aloneness, unutterable waste on the one hand and the dream of liberation, of rebirth on the other. In the face of the torture of a child, of the death of love which is Friday, even the greatest art and poetry are almost helpless. In the Utopia of the Sunday, the aesthetic will, presumably, no longer have logic or necessity. The apprehensions and figurations in the play of metaphysical imagining, in the poem and the music, which tell of pain and of hope, of the flesh which is said to taste of ash and of the spirit which is said to have the savour of fire, are always Sabbatarian. They have risen out of an immensity of waiting which is that of man. Without them, how could we be patient?

--George Steiner. "Real Presences" University of Chicago Press 1989

Good Friday- 2010

2010-04-02T05:37:00.000-07:00

Today's poem was written in remembrance of Rev. Roger Victoria. Roger was in his last year of seminary in San Francisco as I started my first. Some years later, at the Installation service of my current church, I was surprised to see Roger in attendance. He was serving a small church in the same Presbytery.

But that church dismissed him upon learning that Roger was gay. Roger went to Colorado where he worked in a motel while writing. He sought a call but without success. The Committee of Ministry of this Presbytery wearied of Roger and refused to validate a ministry of writing, placing his ordination in jeopardy.

At the time I was the Stated Clerk of the Presbytery. Although I did not have a voice at the table, I am sorry that I did not more fully express what I felt at the time--that Roger needed compassion not polity. I believed at the time that Roger would be fine. He would write. He would find a new calling.

Roger took his own life. I did not know Roger well. I do not know what other contributing factors led up to his decision to end his life. But I do know the church did not do enough to affirm Roger's humanity, to reach out to him, to understand his pain rather than his status on the membership role. There are exceptions, but by and large the Church universal continues to do a terrible job of affirming the common humanity of gay and lesbian persons. It is truly time to see beyond such distinctions and welcome all people--regardless of sexual orientation--into full participation in Christ's church. Because the truth is---as far as Christ is concerned--they are already there.

I wrote this poem after hearing of Roger's death.

Remembrance

For Roger Victoria

You brought us your pain,

an offering

anger clanking

like loose change,

bills folded,

creased despair

defiance, a check

that will not clear.

We ignored your poetry

sacred texts

a swaddled babe

awkward in our arms

deaf to its cry

eager to meet the demands

of our own bleating lambs.

We refused you the sacrament.

You created your own.

Were you at table

or in the garden alone

knees bent

hands clasped

around the steely host.

Maundy Thursday 2010

2010-04-01T02:48:00.000-07:00

Judas gets the bad press, and deservedly so. This night is all about Judas. His betrayal. His kiss. His kiss of death. It was Judas who brought the authorities to the garden. It was Judas, corrupted by greed, who sold the Son of Man for thirty pieces of silver.

Jesus in the garden, praying, when his prayers are interrupted by Judas leading a crowd with swords and clubs. An unnamed follower mounts a weak defense but Jesus puts a stop to it and does what he always does—heals amidst the violence.

So Judas is the bad guy. There can be no question. Betrayal is such a dark and dramatic act. Could the authorities have found Jesus without Judas’ help? Without question. Jesus is quite ready to be found. But Judas is singled out even by Jesus for his decision—his choice to betray. “Woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed.”

He was there, at the table, with the others. He dared to eat the Passover meal knowing full well what he was about to do. He dipped his hand in the bowl and then slipped out the side door. And Jesus let him go, just as Jesus lets us all go where we will, to do what we think we must do.

And those who are left at the table? The light shines so brightly on Judas this night that we do not always pay attention to those left in the shadows. For they all dip with Jesus while, at the same time, they are not with Jesus at all.

First there are “them” which we might freely understand to be all of those present at the meal. They have just heard Jesus make reference to his betrayal. The disciples spend an obligatory moment wondering who among them would do such a thing?

But this wonderment soon gives way to argument. A dispute arose as to which one was the greatest. In a moment they become the family arguing about the estate over the deathbed of their beloved. Jesus, ever patient, reminds them that there is enough for all in the Kingdom of God. What they stand to inherit cannot be reduced to sections, for they will inherit a relationship and a responsibility. Which is greater?, Jesus asks. The one at table or the one who serves? I am among you as one who serves.

And then there is Peter. First runner-up to Judas. Give Judas some credit. No where does Luke mention that Judas denied what he would do. But Peter denies even his denial. And sure enough. As Jesus knew, Peter denied three times, before the cock crew.

So who is left? Who is left at the table to dip with the master free of blame? There appears to be no one who is free of blame. Judas betrays. Peter denies. The others care more for their own place and station than for their friend’s fate. We could split hairs, argue like the disciples which act is worse—betrayal or denial—or indifference. But what gain comes from such a argument? Like the cheese in the nursery rhyme. In the end, Jesus stands alone.

I think of the movie “Glory”, which tells the story of the 54^th regiment of Massachusetts, the first African American regiment in the Civil War. Near the end of the movie, in the last few days before the 54^th goes into its final battle, Colonel Shaw meets with a soldier who is the rebel, the outsider, the antagonist. Colonel Shaw compliments the soldier, whose name is Trip, and suggests he carry the colors. Trip hesitates, clearly uncomfortable. He doesn’t feel right carrying the flag. “You see, Colonel,” he explains, “I ain’t fighting this war for you. I mean, what’s the point? Ain’t nobody gonna win.” Trip and Colonel Shaw discuss this observation. Then Shaw sums up the situation. “I suppose it stinks,” he says. “Yea,” Trip says, “stinks bad. And we all covered up in it. Ain’t nobody clean. Sure would be nice to get clean, though.” “How do we do that?” Colonel Shaw asks. Trip considers for a moment. “Lend a hand and kick in. But I still don’t want to carry your flag.”

This is very insightful Eucharistic theology. Something to remember on Maundy Thursday. Something to bear in mind if we are of a mind to throw stones at Judas, or Peter, or anyone who we see as not fit to be here. Ain’t nobody clean. Sure would be nice to get clean, though. How do we get clean? This is my body, broken for you. This cup is the new covenant sealed in my blood. Come to the table, remembering your baptism by which you were made clean. But we can’t stay clean. Nobody can. Which is why we need this table not just tonight but on all the nights that this world is steeped in injustice and violence. While greed and betrayal and denial are commonplace, we need this table. Until we all feast in the Kingdom of God, we eat and drink at Christ’s invitation. And, having been fed, we lend a hand and kick in.