The homily offered at our Closing Eucharist, referred to the Ten Commandments as a covenant between God and the people whom God had chosen. Rather than seeing these as restrictions, such a view encourages us to understand them as signs of the relationship. The former Egyptian slaves were willing and eager to be united under the care and watchful eye of the God of Abraham. An old rabbinical story says they were not content with one law (“I will be your God and you will be my people”,) but asked for nine more.
When Moses goes up on the mountain, and the Ten Commandments are given him, he comes down the mountain to discover the whole molten calf thing and in his anger he smashes the stone tablets on which the commandments were written.
Later in the story, in Exodus 34, we learn that God calls him back up the mountain and that new stone tablets are inscribed with the Word of God.
In that 34th chapter, we hear a phrase often repeated in scripture, but too seldom reprinted on bumper stickers. It is a phrase which sums up God’s relationship with us. Here, the words are actually spoken by God, “The Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”
It is because of God’s mercy and grace that those former Egyptian slaves are given a second chance. It is because of God’s mercy and grace that Christ comes among us. It is because of God’s mercy and grace that we are able to extend love and kindness to one another. It is all possible because of God’s mercy and grace.
What a fitting thought to end our year together. As we conclude the academic year and prepare for summer, might we retain as our mantra, “The Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Might it govern our actions over the summer; might it give us impetuous to return home and reconfigure the relationship of our childhood into adult relationships. And above all, might it provide the assurance we need in order to live lives confident of God’s presence in our lives. Let us strive to take on those Commandments, as a way of illustrating to the world that God is our god and that we are indeed one of God’s children.
I have benefited greatly from these electronic exchanges. I pray that they might have opened the way for God to have blessed your life, too. I will return to writing when school resumes, that date is August 18.
God’s Peace,
Pastor Chris
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Devotion - Wednesday, April 28
Matthew 5:17-20, contains what is most often referred to as the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus has spoken the Beatitudes, now he is offering comments on righteousness. He says, “For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
How can anyone disagree with Jesus? And yet these words must be reconciled with the affirmations made by Paul and the whole Church that “we are justified by grace, not by works, lest anyone should boast.”
Righteousness, righteous living, is living according to God’s Word. It means following God’s law. To be righteous is to walk in the way of our Lord. Our righteousness is rooted in Christ’s death and resurrection; this does not mean that I cease to examine my steps and evaluate whether I am living according to God’s Word. Our righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees because it is rooted first and foremost in my dependence upon Jesus. It in Christ that I trust, not in myself. Our righteousness exceeds that of the aforementioned persons because it has this giant head start.
Realizing our position, we strive even more diligently to hold on to what has been given us. We are righteous, in order to show our appreciation for what Christ has done.
The righteousness of Christ’s followers should exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. How can it not? We have been set ahead and we have the greatest of all possible motivations to remain faithful and true.
How can anyone disagree with Jesus? And yet these words must be reconciled with the affirmations made by Paul and the whole Church that “we are justified by grace, not by works, lest anyone should boast.”
Righteousness, righteous living, is living according to God’s Word. It means following God’s law. To be righteous is to walk in the way of our Lord. Our righteousness is rooted in Christ’s death and resurrection; this does not mean that I cease to examine my steps and evaluate whether I am living according to God’s Word. Our righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees because it is rooted first and foremost in my dependence upon Jesus. It in Christ that I trust, not in myself. Our righteousness exceeds that of the aforementioned persons because it has this giant head start.
Realizing our position, we strive even more diligently to hold on to what has been given us. We are righteous, in order to show our appreciation for what Christ has done.
The righteousness of Christ’s followers should exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. How can it not? We have been set ahead and we have the greatest of all possible motivations to remain faithful and true.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Devotion - Tuesday, April 27
Exodus 32 contains the story of the molten calf. Moses has gone up on the top of the mountain, to receive from God the Word by which the people are to live. He is gone a long time, and the people become impatient. They come to Aaron and ask him to make of them a god of gold. Aaron collects their gold and “fashioned it with a graving tool, and made a molten calf.”
God sends Moses down the mountain, to see what the people are doing. When he confronts Aaron, the story changes. In describing what happened, Aaron tells it this way, “they gave (the gold) to me, and I threw it into the fire, and there came out this calf.”
We often retell events in a such a way as to minimize our role. It is tempting to re-interpret what happened in order to take some of the bite out of our transgression.
There is no indication as to whether Moses investigated further and discovered the discrepancies between Aaron’s story and the realities of Aaron’s role. If he didn’t, a reader might develop the notion that Aaron “got away with it.” But did he, really?
We turn to God in order to be forgiven. We confess to God in order that our guilt might be taken away. But that confession is empty unless it is open and honest. If we only “sorta confess,” then God can only “sorta forgive.” Aaron does not get away with anything. He misses the opportunity to be absolved.
There is a prayer which reminds us that “God is more willing to forgive than we are willing to ask.” Do not miss the opportunity, to acknowledge your shortcomings, and to receive the assurance that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God.
God sends Moses down the mountain, to see what the people are doing. When he confronts Aaron, the story changes. In describing what happened, Aaron tells it this way, “they gave (the gold) to me, and I threw it into the fire, and there came out this calf.”
We often retell events in a such a way as to minimize our role. It is tempting to re-interpret what happened in order to take some of the bite out of our transgression.
There is no indication as to whether Moses investigated further and discovered the discrepancies between Aaron’s story and the realities of Aaron’s role. If he didn’t, a reader might develop the notion that Aaron “got away with it.” But did he, really?
We turn to God in order to be forgiven. We confess to God in order that our guilt might be taken away. But that confession is empty unless it is open and honest. If we only “sorta confess,” then God can only “sorta forgive.” Aaron does not get away with anything. He misses the opportunity to be absolved.
There is a prayer which reminds us that “God is more willing to forgive than we are willing to ask.” Do not miss the opportunity, to acknowledge your shortcomings, and to receive the assurance that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Devotion - Monday, April 26
I spend most of my days with students, but there are some spent primarily in the company of faculty.
Friday, it was students. We gathered at Abernathy Park for an end-of-the-year cookout. As opportunity presented itself, I would ask the standard questions for this time of year: “How many exams do you have? Which days? When do you get to head home?” Such questions inevitably lead to comments about the persons administering the exams. “If so-in-so had given me credit for this or that I would have the grade I need and not have to face the final.” Or “I would really have to bomb the final to affect my grade, so I don’t know why he/she is making me take it.”
On Saturday, I got the other side of the coin. Operation In As Much provided me with the opportunity to work with Sundeep Samson. Math instructor, he and I talked of the final exams he had to prepare and administer. “The students sometimes forget that while they may have done well on each of the sectional test, the final is cumulative. Sometimes it is only the final which illustrates whether they can integrate all the information.” Saturday evening, Laura and I joined Peter Cohen and Wilene for a celebration of Peter’s birthday. Dr. Cohen took a quick look at his email, before we left their home, and commented, “These are from all the students begging for a better grade.”
This is not a battlefield, but sometimes it seems that way. The faculty are not pitted against the students, though some comments would imply they are seen this way.
This morning I read from Colossians 3: “Let your speech always be gracious.” And I thought of the temptation to speech in an ungracious way about those on the other side of the exam week phenomena. None of the comments I heard the past couple of days were overly critical, but they might move further in that direction as the week progresses. Let us, as a community of faith involving students, faculty, administrators, and TA’s remember that everyone is about the same goal – the building up of the children of God for the purpose of service in the world. Let our comments be gracious; and may we encourage others to “let (their) speech always be gracious.”
Friday, it was students. We gathered at Abernathy Park for an end-of-the-year cookout. As opportunity presented itself, I would ask the standard questions for this time of year: “How many exams do you have? Which days? When do you get to head home?” Such questions inevitably lead to comments about the persons administering the exams. “If so-in-so had given me credit for this or that I would have the grade I need and not have to face the final.” Or “I would really have to bomb the final to affect my grade, so I don’t know why he/she is making me take it.”
On Saturday, I got the other side of the coin. Operation In As Much provided me with the opportunity to work with Sundeep Samson. Math instructor, he and I talked of the final exams he had to prepare and administer. “The students sometimes forget that while they may have done well on each of the sectional test, the final is cumulative. Sometimes it is only the final which illustrates whether they can integrate all the information.” Saturday evening, Laura and I joined Peter Cohen and Wilene for a celebration of Peter’s birthday. Dr. Cohen took a quick look at his email, before we left their home, and commented, “These are from all the students begging for a better grade.”
This is not a battlefield, but sometimes it seems that way. The faculty are not pitted against the students, though some comments would imply they are seen this way.
This morning I read from Colossians 3: “Let your speech always be gracious.” And I thought of the temptation to speech in an ungracious way about those on the other side of the exam week phenomena. None of the comments I heard the past couple of days were overly critical, but they might move further in that direction as the week progresses. Let us, as a community of faith involving students, faculty, administrators, and TA’s remember that everyone is about the same goal – the building up of the children of God for the purpose of service in the world. Let our comments be gracious; and may we encourage others to “let (their) speech always be gracious.”
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Sermon - April 25, 2010
4th Sunday of Easter - Year C
John 10:22-30
Take Time to Listen
I am not a shepherd, and I have never tended sheep. So I really don’t know how, over time, a shepherd feels toward the sheep. I don’t know how Jesus feels about the sheep (or potential sheep) with whom he interacts in today’s Gospel lesson.
I do know that sheep are not the smartest of domesticated animals. They have hardly any ability to look out for themselves. Unless they are lead to green pastures, they will starve. Unless they are shown still waters, they will perish. When they get lost, they lie down and wait for the shepherd to come find them. I wonder whether, over time, a shepherd grows to be exasperated by this. I wonder if it is possible, over the long haul, to remain understanding and patient with a flock whose needs are so great.
I think we can understand both sides of this coin. It is a bit like our experience, here in Clemson. They don’t baa or need to have their fleece trimmed each season, but the University students are sort of like sheep. They are perpetually young; doing the things that young adults do; this flock making the same mistakes as the ones who have gone before. Our church home suffers from the leftovers of weekends gone wild; and yet the congregation understands and realizes how essential it is for us to remain in the heart of town. It is tempting, to loose patience. But, we haven’t, and let us pray that we don’t. For, while the wonderings of 20 year olds seem endless, they remind the rest of us that unless there is a shepherd’s voice we too become lost.
Jesus is in Jerusalem, he is in the temple, when some of those who teeter on the edge of being lost ask him why he won’t tell them plainly whether he is Messiah. Jesus’ response seems, at first, to express frustration. His reply is that he has already told them, but that they won’t believe. He seems to scold them for their inability to hear. But the tone changes very quickly and his words become an invitation to leave behind the helplessness which dominates the lives of all sheep. He reminds them they don’t have to be able to do all things; they only need to be able to do one thing. They don’t have to know it all; they only need to know the sound of the shepherd’s voice.
“My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.”
This may not be the best advice, as you start to take final exams. Nevertheless, it is the advice I will give you this morning – forget everything else and concentrate on learning to recognize and follow that voice.
I realized, in preparing for this morning, how confusing it is that “sheep” is the same whether one speaks in the singular or plural. That is confusing, but it helps to make one of the points toward which I am driving. A sheep, an individual sheep, becomes one with the rest of the flock of sheep. It is only when the sheep is in trouble (like being lost) that it is off on its own. The rest of the time, it is one sheep among all the other sheep.
This is a concept which runs afoul of most of what our culture values. We celebrate the rugged individual; we are congratulated for standing out from the rest; we go to the career center in order to learn how to distinguish ourselves from the others. No wonder the Sunday morning message attracts so few. It is more than a desire to sleep in, it may come from the realization that everything we have worked so hard for during the week is being challenged every time we join in the chorus and speak collectively of “Our Father.”
But, it is in the flock, among the other sheep, that one learns to recognize the voice of the shepherd. It is in the flock, among the other sheep, that one develops trust and the ability to follow the shepherd’s instructions. I used to say that it is really hard to do this on your own. Of late, I have started saying that it is practically impossible.
In the past couple of weeks, I have been involved in three conversations with alumni. In each, we talked about how tough it is to be a young adult – a recent college graduate. In far too few congregations will you find a place to fit in. No longer a college student, campus ministry isn’t really for you. While congregations may be open to inclusion, there aren’t programs for young adults – particularly those who are not in a life-long relationship or having babies. Falling away from going to Sunday worship is an easy thing to have happen. It may only be later, when one finds oneself a bit lost, that they realize what falling away has really cost them. On their own, it is tough to feel the care and compassion of the shepherd’s voice.
This illustration is applicable whether you are 20-something or 50-something. A lone sheep is a lost sheep.
In the flock, the sheep who have learned the shepherd’s voice, are not always aware of the impact their ability to recognize and follow has on the newer members. I don’t think the Mama sheep tell their offspring, “Hear that voice? That is the one you want to follow.” The youngens pick up on this, as they observe the mother following. It is in following that one generation passes on to the next the ability to believe and to trust. So, it isn’t what you say or even what you teach which matters most – it is what you do.
What we do – what we need to do – is be very intentional in listening to that voice, and we need to be more forthcoming in allowing others to see how that voice directs our lives.
It is another wonderful coincidence of the lectionary that these lessons fall on our LCM Farewell and Godspeed Sunday. They may often seem cocky and boisterous, but for the most part young adults are still becoming adults. What young adults need, what many young adults are willing to acknowledge, is the continued presence and support of those who have gone before. We have said it before but it bears repeating: the advantage is to a parish-based campus ministry is the opportunity for college students to participate in a community where there are eighty year olds, as well as eighteen year olds. The stages of faith formation are greatly aided by seeing and interacting with those who have had decades to learn to listen to the shepherd’s voice. But, they are inexperienced in establishing adult relationships. And, so it is very awkward and difficult for them. You, the regular members of this congregation, have so much to offer the students who come here seeking something but not knowing how to find it. You do God’s work when you befriend them and allow them to observe, up close and personal, how it is that you have learned to recognize and follow the voice of the Good Shepherd. This is a challenge issued to all of you who are on the University campus. It is a challenge for every one who calls University Lutheran their home congregation.
Students – you understand all too well the pressure to fit in or be accepted. And, you know the pain associated with being left out or ignored. We can’t change the culture, but we can tell you that there is a place where you are most likely to find persons willing to admit how much they need each other. And that place is the Church. It may not be as easy as we hope it has been here, but go. And keep going. And don’t be shy. Stand in the narthex of that congregation in your new home, and announce – “I am here and I am new and I want someone to notice me and love me and support me and help me. Because I already know that life can be tough, very tough.” And, if you want to say that, but can’t bring yourself to say that, I have on my hard-drive the basic structure of a letter which I will be more than happy to send to that new congregation, encouraging the pastor to look out for your arrival. Just send me the name of the church and the letter will be in the mail.
We are like sheep. Together, in the community of faith, we have been lead to the green pastures. Together, our souls have been revived. Let us dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.
Amen.
John 10:22-30
Take Time to Listen
I am not a shepherd, and I have never tended sheep. So I really don’t know how, over time, a shepherd feels toward the sheep. I don’t know how Jesus feels about the sheep (or potential sheep) with whom he interacts in today’s Gospel lesson.
I do know that sheep are not the smartest of domesticated animals. They have hardly any ability to look out for themselves. Unless they are lead to green pastures, they will starve. Unless they are shown still waters, they will perish. When they get lost, they lie down and wait for the shepherd to come find them. I wonder whether, over time, a shepherd grows to be exasperated by this. I wonder if it is possible, over the long haul, to remain understanding and patient with a flock whose needs are so great.
I think we can understand both sides of this coin. It is a bit like our experience, here in Clemson. They don’t baa or need to have their fleece trimmed each season, but the University students are sort of like sheep. They are perpetually young; doing the things that young adults do; this flock making the same mistakes as the ones who have gone before. Our church home suffers from the leftovers of weekends gone wild; and yet the congregation understands and realizes how essential it is for us to remain in the heart of town. It is tempting, to loose patience. But, we haven’t, and let us pray that we don’t. For, while the wonderings of 20 year olds seem endless, they remind the rest of us that unless there is a shepherd’s voice we too become lost.
Jesus is in Jerusalem, he is in the temple, when some of those who teeter on the edge of being lost ask him why he won’t tell them plainly whether he is Messiah. Jesus’ response seems, at first, to express frustration. His reply is that he has already told them, but that they won’t believe. He seems to scold them for their inability to hear. But the tone changes very quickly and his words become an invitation to leave behind the helplessness which dominates the lives of all sheep. He reminds them they don’t have to be able to do all things; they only need to be able to do one thing. They don’t have to know it all; they only need to know the sound of the shepherd’s voice.
“My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.”
This may not be the best advice, as you start to take final exams. Nevertheless, it is the advice I will give you this morning – forget everything else and concentrate on learning to recognize and follow that voice.
I realized, in preparing for this morning, how confusing it is that “sheep” is the same whether one speaks in the singular or plural. That is confusing, but it helps to make one of the points toward which I am driving. A sheep, an individual sheep, becomes one with the rest of the flock of sheep. It is only when the sheep is in trouble (like being lost) that it is off on its own. The rest of the time, it is one sheep among all the other sheep.
This is a concept which runs afoul of most of what our culture values. We celebrate the rugged individual; we are congratulated for standing out from the rest; we go to the career center in order to learn how to distinguish ourselves from the others. No wonder the Sunday morning message attracts so few. It is more than a desire to sleep in, it may come from the realization that everything we have worked so hard for during the week is being challenged every time we join in the chorus and speak collectively of “Our Father.”
But, it is in the flock, among the other sheep, that one learns to recognize the voice of the shepherd. It is in the flock, among the other sheep, that one develops trust and the ability to follow the shepherd’s instructions. I used to say that it is really hard to do this on your own. Of late, I have started saying that it is practically impossible.
In the past couple of weeks, I have been involved in three conversations with alumni. In each, we talked about how tough it is to be a young adult – a recent college graduate. In far too few congregations will you find a place to fit in. No longer a college student, campus ministry isn’t really for you. While congregations may be open to inclusion, there aren’t programs for young adults – particularly those who are not in a life-long relationship or having babies. Falling away from going to Sunday worship is an easy thing to have happen. It may only be later, when one finds oneself a bit lost, that they realize what falling away has really cost them. On their own, it is tough to feel the care and compassion of the shepherd’s voice.
This illustration is applicable whether you are 20-something or 50-something. A lone sheep is a lost sheep.
In the flock, the sheep who have learned the shepherd’s voice, are not always aware of the impact their ability to recognize and follow has on the newer members. I don’t think the Mama sheep tell their offspring, “Hear that voice? That is the one you want to follow.” The youngens pick up on this, as they observe the mother following. It is in following that one generation passes on to the next the ability to believe and to trust. So, it isn’t what you say or even what you teach which matters most – it is what you do.
What we do – what we need to do – is be very intentional in listening to that voice, and we need to be more forthcoming in allowing others to see how that voice directs our lives.
It is another wonderful coincidence of the lectionary that these lessons fall on our LCM Farewell and Godspeed Sunday. They may often seem cocky and boisterous, but for the most part young adults are still becoming adults. What young adults need, what many young adults are willing to acknowledge, is the continued presence and support of those who have gone before. We have said it before but it bears repeating: the advantage is to a parish-based campus ministry is the opportunity for college students to participate in a community where there are eighty year olds, as well as eighteen year olds. The stages of faith formation are greatly aided by seeing and interacting with those who have had decades to learn to listen to the shepherd’s voice. But, they are inexperienced in establishing adult relationships. And, so it is very awkward and difficult for them. You, the regular members of this congregation, have so much to offer the students who come here seeking something but not knowing how to find it. You do God’s work when you befriend them and allow them to observe, up close and personal, how it is that you have learned to recognize and follow the voice of the Good Shepherd. This is a challenge issued to all of you who are on the University campus. It is a challenge for every one who calls University Lutheran their home congregation.
Students – you understand all too well the pressure to fit in or be accepted. And, you know the pain associated with being left out or ignored. We can’t change the culture, but we can tell you that there is a place where you are most likely to find persons willing to admit how much they need each other. And that place is the Church. It may not be as easy as we hope it has been here, but go. And keep going. And don’t be shy. Stand in the narthex of that congregation in your new home, and announce – “I am here and I am new and I want someone to notice me and love me and support me and help me. Because I already know that life can be tough, very tough.” And, if you want to say that, but can’t bring yourself to say that, I have on my hard-drive the basic structure of a letter which I will be more than happy to send to that new congregation, encouraging the pastor to look out for your arrival. Just send me the name of the church and the letter will be in the mail.
We are like sheep. Together, in the community of faith, we have been lead to the green pastures. Together, our souls have been revived. Let us dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.
Amen.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Devotion - Thursday, April 22
Colossians 2:7 is the concluding verse in my Epistle reading for the day. It seemed an appropriate verse, continuing a thought shared during last night’s Eucharist. The theme of the sermon was to look upon God’s Commandments as a source of liberation; to understand that we take on changes in our behavior in order to demonstrate to the world (and to God) our appreciation for the relationship into which we have been welcomed.
Colossians 2:7 reads: “As therefore you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so live in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.”
The last word is the place to start – Thanksgiving. How often it is that we allow our prayers to be prayers of intercession; we ask God to come to the aid of those languishing in disease or despair. But when we consider what it means to us to be a member of God’s family we quickly realize that thanksgiving is the dominant emotion to be shared.
The earlier phrases address another shortsighted reaction – we receive our Lord, but fail to root our lives in him and/or build up our lives in such a way as to make his presence in our lives known. Being a Christian is much more than accepting a few thoughts or teachings. Being a follower of Christ means living (as closely as we can) to the way that Christ lived. We receive our Lord, and then we live in him.
In writing to the church in Colossae, Paul seeks to aid them in putting on the full armor of Christ. The initial receiving of Christ into one’s life is a start, but it continues as we look for those ways in which we can illustrate to God (and to the world) that our lives are dedicated to the one who has set us free.
Colossians 2:7 reads: “As therefore you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so live in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.”
The last word is the place to start – Thanksgiving. How often it is that we allow our prayers to be prayers of intercession; we ask God to come to the aid of those languishing in disease or despair. But when we consider what it means to us to be a member of God’s family we quickly realize that thanksgiving is the dominant emotion to be shared.
The earlier phrases address another shortsighted reaction – we receive our Lord, but fail to root our lives in him and/or build up our lives in such a way as to make his presence in our lives known. Being a Christian is much more than accepting a few thoughts or teachings. Being a follower of Christ means living (as closely as we can) to the way that Christ lived. We receive our Lord, and then we live in him.
In writing to the church in Colossae, Paul seeks to aid them in putting on the full armor of Christ. The initial receiving of Christ into one’s life is a start, but it continues as we look for those ways in which we can illustrate to God (and to the world) that our lives are dedicated to the one who has set us free.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Devotion - Wednesday, April 21
I have been reading through the middle chapters of Exodus. I know what it coming, the giving of the 10 Commandments. If I didn’t, I could suspect something important. In Exodus 19, God gives Moses elaborate instructions with regard to their approaching the mountain. Moses is to up the mountain, in order to speak to God. The people are to stay away from the mountain, on fear of death.
The details recorded for us in this section of scripture underscore the significance of what is about to happen. The Decalogue does more than outline the morality of God’s people; it is the covenant between God and the people of Israel which symbolizes their selection. The buildup ensures that no reader will miss the significance of what it about to happen.
At the same time, it underscores what everyone should remember with regard to God, or coming into God’s presence. To encounter God is a mighty thing. To encounter God is an overwhelming thing. To encounter God is a matter of life and death.
God always welcomes us into His presence. God is forever prepared to receive our prayers and our meditations. As I stated in yesterday’s offering, it is our time with God which gives purpose to life and brings calm to our day. However, coming into the presence of God has the potential to expose all those parts of ourselves which are not of God. It has the potential of changing us and changing our self-understanding. Encountering God is a risky thing.
I am not warning anyone to stay away – far from it. I am reminding us all that God is God and therefore time with God has the ability to create something totally new. Time with God changes things; changes those things God sees the need to change. Coming into God’s presence means that we are opening our lives up to that change. As we approach, we need to be prepared for what it is that God might do.
The details recorded for us in this section of scripture underscore the significance of what is about to happen. The Decalogue does more than outline the morality of God’s people; it is the covenant between God and the people of Israel which symbolizes their selection. The buildup ensures that no reader will miss the significance of what it about to happen.
At the same time, it underscores what everyone should remember with regard to God, or coming into God’s presence. To encounter God is a mighty thing. To encounter God is an overwhelming thing. To encounter God is a matter of life and death.
God always welcomes us into His presence. God is forever prepared to receive our prayers and our meditations. As I stated in yesterday’s offering, it is our time with God which gives purpose to life and brings calm to our day. However, coming into the presence of God has the potential to expose all those parts of ourselves which are not of God. It has the potential of changing us and changing our self-understanding. Encountering God is a risky thing.
I am not warning anyone to stay away – far from it. I am reminding us all that God is God and therefore time with God has the ability to create something totally new. Time with God changes things; changes those things God sees the need to change. Coming into God’s presence means that we are opening our lives up to that change. As we approach, we need to be prepared for what it is that God might do.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Devotion - Tuesday, April 20
My prayers this morning were consumed with concern for all of you. This is a difficult week. One student told me yesterday, “Exam week is easy. You go in and take your exams and you are done with it.” It is the papers and final projects which never end. It is these class requirements which are never really “done.” The only relief is the realization that there comes a point in time when they are due.
My prayers may have been affected by the caption, on the sports page in the newspaper that Coach Spurrier is having a birthday today. He turns 65 years old. The article says that he “works out, avoids stress.” I am not one of those people who think that college football coaches are the greatest people in the world, but I do think that they have incredibly stressful jobs. How then, can Spurrier live stress free?
I don’t know. I don’t know how he does it. But I do know how stress is reduced in my life. And I believe that this might be helpful for you, too.
Yes, it comes back to time alone with God. It is anchored in my rising early in the morning and making my way to my Bible. The lost sleep is nothing compared to what I would lose were I not to have a few minutes with God.
That time reminds me of the things which are most important in my life. They remind me that accomplishing my academic or personal goals is not as important as accomplishing my spiritual goals. I am reminded that regardless of how I might be evaluated by others, God’s evaluation of me ends with “Well done. With you I am well pleased.”
Yes, these are stressful days. But let’s be on a mission to remind one another of God’s desire and ability to remove from us so much of that which would seek to drag us down. Return and remember God’s goodness and mercy, and let us be recipients of God’s peace.
My prayers may have been affected by the caption, on the sports page in the newspaper that Coach Spurrier is having a birthday today. He turns 65 years old. The article says that he “works out, avoids stress.” I am not one of those people who think that college football coaches are the greatest people in the world, but I do think that they have incredibly stressful jobs. How then, can Spurrier live stress free?
I don’t know. I don’t know how he does it. But I do know how stress is reduced in my life. And I believe that this might be helpful for you, too.
Yes, it comes back to time alone with God. It is anchored in my rising early in the morning and making my way to my Bible. The lost sleep is nothing compared to what I would lose were I not to have a few minutes with God.
That time reminds me of the things which are most important in my life. They remind me that accomplishing my academic or personal goals is not as important as accomplishing my spiritual goals. I am reminded that regardless of how I might be evaluated by others, God’s evaluation of me ends with “Well done. With you I am well pleased.”
Yes, these are stressful days. But let’s be on a mission to remind one another of God’s desire and ability to remove from us so much of that which would seek to drag us down. Return and remember God’s goodness and mercy, and let us be recipients of God’s peace.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Devotion - Monday, April 19
Exodus 18:13-27 is a section of scripture I should have read repeatedly over the weekend. It would have been suitable for the LCM Leadership Team, as we considered next year’s programming for LCM. It could have been helpful yesterday afternoon as the Directing Committee poured over the report of the Quadrennial Review Team.
In this section of Exodus, the father-in-law of Moses observes that Moses is spending many hours a day settling disputes among the people. “Is this your job?” he asks Moses. Finally, a system is put in place whereby others are set to judge small items while Moses returns his attention to teaching all the people God’s statutes.
This is not merely an attempt to get myself out of more work – it is a lesson for all of us. In our attempts to serve Christ, we sometimes suffer from the mistaken notion that service to Christ means “service everywhere.” We fail to remember that Christ calls each of us, but that Christ calls us to a particular kind of service. We are not called to perform every service, rather those for which we are perfectly suited.
In essence, we are ignoring the calling of Christ when we ignore the particular call which is ours. We abandon what it is that God is asking of us, when we try to accomplish that which is a better match for the gifts given to another.
Yes, it is sometimes difficult to know exactly what it is that we have been called to do. That is another topic for discussion. For today, let it be enough to remember that we cannot be all things to all people. Can need to remember even Moses had to set limits on what he was going to attempt to do. In so doing, he better served the God whom he loved. This is also true for us.
In this section of Exodus, the father-in-law of Moses observes that Moses is spending many hours a day settling disputes among the people. “Is this your job?” he asks Moses. Finally, a system is put in place whereby others are set to judge small items while Moses returns his attention to teaching all the people God’s statutes.
This is not merely an attempt to get myself out of more work – it is a lesson for all of us. In our attempts to serve Christ, we sometimes suffer from the mistaken notion that service to Christ means “service everywhere.” We fail to remember that Christ calls each of us, but that Christ calls us to a particular kind of service. We are not called to perform every service, rather those for which we are perfectly suited.
In essence, we are ignoring the calling of Christ when we ignore the particular call which is ours. We abandon what it is that God is asking of us, when we try to accomplish that which is a better match for the gifts given to another.
Yes, it is sometimes difficult to know exactly what it is that we have been called to do. That is another topic for discussion. For today, let it be enough to remember that we cannot be all things to all people. Can need to remember even Moses had to set limits on what he was going to attempt to do. In so doing, he better served the God whom he loved. This is also true for us.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Devotion - Thursday, April 15
I am away from home, attending a meeting of Project Connect. This is an effort on the part of the Eastern Cluster of seminaries to raise up leaders for the Church. When I travel, it is too easy for me to get out of my routine. This morning’s offering is more a thought that a devotion, but it may be appropriate, given the approach of the end of the school year and graduations.
There are folks here from all across the eastern seaboard. What is pleasing to me are the numbers in attendance who have a connection to Lutheran Campus Ministry-Clemson.
Here is the thought: all of us who enjoy the fellowship and community of LCM-C need to be challenged to realize that the true measure of a great campus ministry experience is how that experience propels us into further service to Christ and the community which bears his name. If these years of attending Wednesday evening meals has been a good experience it should be reflected in an on-going involvement in the Church.
I do understand the difficulty of finding a church home and of fitting in to a community which includes a wider range of persons (I am thinking most of age.) There are hurdles. But these can be overcome.
Maybe this is a message for those who are about to graduate – as you express appreciation for what LCM has been in your life, make a pledge to remain involved in the places to which you will go. Then, we will see that these meals and bible studies and other offerings have been more than entertainment – they have laid the foundation for an active faith, alive in you and alive in the world.
There are folks here from all across the eastern seaboard. What is pleasing to me are the numbers in attendance who have a connection to Lutheran Campus Ministry-Clemson.
Here is the thought: all of us who enjoy the fellowship and community of LCM-C need to be challenged to realize that the true measure of a great campus ministry experience is how that experience propels us into further service to Christ and the community which bears his name. If these years of attending Wednesday evening meals has been a good experience it should be reflected in an on-going involvement in the Church.
I do understand the difficulty of finding a church home and of fitting in to a community which includes a wider range of persons (I am thinking most of age.) There are hurdles. But these can be overcome.
Maybe this is a message for those who are about to graduate – as you express appreciation for what LCM has been in your life, make a pledge to remain involved in the places to which you will go. Then, we will see that these meals and bible studies and other offerings have been more than entertainment – they have laid the foundation for an active faith, alive in you and alive in the world.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Devotion - Wednesday, April 14
One of the tasks I completed yesterday was to respond to a letter from one of our alumni. She has become active in startup congregation of the Southern Baptist Convention. Over the summer, she will be involved in an outreach project, of that congregation. I thanked her for keeping in touch and extended the assurance of my prayers. While there are differences of theological interpretation between the SBC and the ELCA, each is essential to the life and wellbeing of the Church of Jesus Christ.
I was reminded of this again this morning, in reading the appointed Gospel lesson.
John 15:1-11 contains the image of the grape vine. There was a period of time when my grandfather maintained a half acre or so of grape vines. During those years, I learned to appreciate this image, used by Jesus to speak of the pruning of branches and the overall health of the vine.
Each year, the branches are pruned. I thought my grandfather was pruning too severely – but with the next year’s crop, I saw that he knew what he was doing. There needs to be strong, healthy branches in order for the vine to produce. These branches must also be balanced. By tugging the vine to the right or to the left, they keep the vine growing straight. The desire is to have a vine producing straight out of the ground, with branches going off in each direction.
We can apply this to the Church. Rather than allow one branch to dominate, it is better when all those who serve Jesus are in tension with one another. It is the areas where conversation is necessary that we discover what it is that God is truly saying to us.
From time to time we will need a bit of pruning. This should not be taken as an indication that God is displeased with us. Far from it. It is a reminder that in order for the whole to be healthy each of us must be balanced by that which is moving out from the vine in a differing direction.
I was reminded of this again this morning, in reading the appointed Gospel lesson.
John 15:1-11 contains the image of the grape vine. There was a period of time when my grandfather maintained a half acre or so of grape vines. During those years, I learned to appreciate this image, used by Jesus to speak of the pruning of branches and the overall health of the vine.
Each year, the branches are pruned. I thought my grandfather was pruning too severely – but with the next year’s crop, I saw that he knew what he was doing. There needs to be strong, healthy branches in order for the vine to produce. These branches must also be balanced. By tugging the vine to the right or to the left, they keep the vine growing straight. The desire is to have a vine producing straight out of the ground, with branches going off in each direction.
We can apply this to the Church. Rather than allow one branch to dominate, it is better when all those who serve Jesus are in tension with one another. It is the areas where conversation is necessary that we discover what it is that God is truly saying to us.
From time to time we will need a bit of pruning. This should not be taken as an indication that God is displeased with us. Far from it. It is a reminder that in order for the whole to be healthy each of us must be balanced by that which is moving out from the vine in a differing direction.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Devotion - Tuesday, April 13
Jesus’ greeting to the disciples is “Peace.” He speaks this word to them after his resurrection; he speaks to them of peace during his farewell discourses. In John 14:18ff he says to them, “My peace I give you, not as the world gives do I give to you.”
The English word “Peace” has become so associated with the absence of war that we may fail to understand why this peace would be such a gift. “Shalom,” the Hebrew word for peace means so much more than absence. It is an expression of the hope that every aspect of one’s life is in good standing. This includes one’s relationship with neighbors, but it also refers to one’s own household, to one’s financial matters, and to one’s spiritual mood. Furthermore, in speaking of shalom to another, the speaker is pledging themselves to help bring shalom where it is missing. In other words, when I say “Peace be with you,” it is an open invitation for you to tell me where peace is missing and how I might help it be restored.
Jesus speaks to his disciples of peace, of shalom. He speaks to every aspect of their lives. He extends his hope that all is well in their relationships and in their spirit. He tells them that he is going to all within his power to bring shalom into their lives.
And this he does. He dies on the cross so that our fears will be set aside. He offers himself so that we might see the way to God. Jesus speaks of shalom and he works to bring it about.
The peace of God is no small thing. It is not limited in any way. And it is freely available to all those who listen to his voice and accept his words. His peace is ours – not merely the peace as given by the world, but the peace which comes from God.
The English word “Peace” has become so associated with the absence of war that we may fail to understand why this peace would be such a gift. “Shalom,” the Hebrew word for peace means so much more than absence. It is an expression of the hope that every aspect of one’s life is in good standing. This includes one’s relationship with neighbors, but it also refers to one’s own household, to one’s financial matters, and to one’s spiritual mood. Furthermore, in speaking of shalom to another, the speaker is pledging themselves to help bring shalom where it is missing. In other words, when I say “Peace be with you,” it is an open invitation for you to tell me where peace is missing and how I might help it be restored.
Jesus speaks to his disciples of peace, of shalom. He speaks to every aspect of their lives. He extends his hope that all is well in their relationships and in their spirit. He tells them that he is going to all within his power to bring shalom into their lives.
And this he does. He dies on the cross so that our fears will be set aside. He offers himself so that we might see the way to God. Jesus speaks of shalom and he works to bring it about.
The peace of God is no small thing. It is not limited in any way. And it is freely available to all those who listen to his voice and accept his words. His peace is ours – not merely the peace as given by the world, but the peace which comes from God.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Devotion - Monday, April 12
Yesterday’s Gospel lesson in which the questions of Thomas were examined lead to a sermon on the importance of allowing such questions to be asked. The end of the sermon moved in a somewhat different direction, a thought which returned to me this morning as I read the appointed Gospel lesson for today.
In John 14, were we find so many words of comfort, there is the encounter between Thomas and Philip and Jesus in which not only Thomas but also Philip also reveals how difficult it is to believe all that Jesus is saying. While Thomas is mentioned first, it is the questions asked by Philip which seem to give rise to impatience.
The comments of these disciples return to the differing direction mentioned above.
What happens in Jesus is unbelievable. What occurs during his life, the events of his death, and the glorious news of resurrection – these are too significant to call them miracles. And yet, what word other than miracle can we use? Something happens here which defies all reasonable thought. What happens here reveals a God who loves us more than we are capable of loving ourselves.
Of course we will doubt; it is impossible that we would not question. The story speaks of a God who sets aside the comforts and the honor heaven in order to be among us. Once here, the goodness of God continues to shine forth, even when we reject and condemn. And then, when life returns to the one whom we had murdered we are told that this resurrection is not God’s way of leaving us behind once and for all (a fate we might well deserve,) but that this rising is but the first of so many more to come. Because he rose, we shall rise also.
Of course it is tough to believe. It is too much to believe. It is news too good to be real.
In John 14, were we find so many words of comfort, there is the encounter between Thomas and Philip and Jesus in which not only Thomas but also Philip also reveals how difficult it is to believe all that Jesus is saying. While Thomas is mentioned first, it is the questions asked by Philip which seem to give rise to impatience.
The comments of these disciples return to the differing direction mentioned above.
What happens in Jesus is unbelievable. What occurs during his life, the events of his death, and the glorious news of resurrection – these are too significant to call them miracles. And yet, what word other than miracle can we use? Something happens here which defies all reasonable thought. What happens here reveals a God who loves us more than we are capable of loving ourselves.
Of course we will doubt; it is impossible that we would not question. The story speaks of a God who sets aside the comforts and the honor heaven in order to be among us. Once here, the goodness of God continues to shine forth, even when we reject and condemn. And then, when life returns to the one whom we had murdered we are told that this resurrection is not God’s way of leaving us behind once and for all (a fate we might well deserve,) but that this rising is but the first of so many more to come. Because he rose, we shall rise also.
Of course it is tough to believe. It is too much to believe. It is news too good to be real.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sermon - Easter 2 - 4/11/10
2nd Sunday of Easter
John 20:19-31
The Doubting Among Us
The week after Easter has fallen into a rather predictable pattern for me. This pattern has been more evident some years than others, but it is almost always apparent. We experience the great liturgies of Holy Week, we celebrate Easter Sunday with as much fanfare as we can muster, there are the usual shouts of acclamation and joy, and then there come the timid voices passively asking me what all of this really means.
“So when Jesus walked out of the tomb, was it really his body, or was it his spirit?”
“Are we to believe that just because one guy was able to come back to life that all of us have reason to think that we will, too?”
Timid; passive; these voices speak the realities of living 2,000 years after the events recorded for us in the 20th chapter of John’s Gospel. The reality is that we are asked to believe an unimaginable thing about someone whom all accounts describe as exceptional and yet somehow is supposed to parallel our lives. It takes courage to speak up. It takes honestly to speak out.
It is no accident that the lesson for the 2nd Sunday of Easter, the first Sunday after the Easter Celebration, are those stories which call direct attention to the difficultly we all have in believing.
The biblical authors knew that we would experience difficulty in accepting all this. John includes the story of Thomas in order to make clear that those timid, passive voices are never to be excluded from the community. In fact, greater attention is to be given to the voices of those among us who help all of us to acknowledge how tough it is take all this in and not merely accept it, but (as Pastor Shealy shared in last week’s sermon) not merely accept it but proclaim it.
John begins his story by telling us the time. He writes, When it was evening on that day (the day on which Jesus had appeared to Mary of Magdala)... Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." The timing is important because the events of Easter morning are still fresh and raw in the minds of those who had been his disciples. There hasn't been time for reflection; there has not been opportunity to compare notes. It is still very early and what concerns the disciples most is their own safety. Thus they are holed up, in the house, fearful that they may be the next crucifixion victim. Suddenly, Jesus is there among them, even though the door has been locked.
What strikes me about the story is the lack of immediate celebration. As with Mary when she encounters Jesus in the garden and the two disciples who are joined by Jesus on their road to Emmaus, there seems to be a block in recognition. Jesus greets them and yet there is no response; he greets them, but there is no rejoicing. This doesn’t seem to be an oversight on the part of the author; rather it seems an essential part of a story carefully retold. John writes, "Peace be with you." After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. THEN the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
We are so quick to criticize Thomas for refusing to believe until he has had opportunity to see the wounds and place his hand in Jesus' side. We criticize him, but all he wanted was to see what the others had already seen. Of course they believed the story as they retold it to him - they had been there, they had seen. Thomas isn't asking for some sort of a special vision, he is just asking that Jesus do for him what Jesus had done for the others. Of course he doubted. He had been left out of the original visit.
It concerns me that some read this story and see in it a criticism of those who have doubts. For them, Thomas is seen as a negative example. He is the image of what one is not to be. They under¬stand Jesus' words "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe," as a critique of those who refuse to believe unless they can "see." But is this what Jesus intends by his comments? Is it not possible that Jesus' words are intended to be encouragement; encouragement for Thomas and for the remainder of this community we call the Church.
Don't forget that everyone in the original story gets to see. They even get to touch. But, as John realizes, this will not be a possibility for most of those whom Christ will call. They must find the ability to believe from some other source.
In speaking to Thomas, Jesus' words, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe," are an acknowledgment of how difficult it is to come to believe when one hasn't seen the imprint of the nails, the wound in the side. I don't think he is being critical of Thomas; he is giving encouragement to the rank and file of the church, to the millions upon millions who come to believe without ever seeing the imprint of the nails or the wound caused by the spear.
Too often we expect the community of the faithful to be a place of dogma and certainty. Too often we perceive it to be a place where questions are discouraged and obedience is demanded. We have been programmed to read the story of Thomas and hear these words as a condemnation of those who have doubts. I am fearful this is what some will hear, so I feel compelled to offer another view. A view that isn't new and different, but merely a reporting of what so many others have said and said better.
We don't stop being the church or members of the church when we find ourselves questioning or doubting. The one who has doubts does not stop gathering with the other believers. Rather he is there, with them, a week later when once more Jesus came and stood among them. We don't stop being the church or members of the church when we have doubts or questions, rather we stop being the church when we exclude the Thomas' from our midst. We stop being the church when we allow this incredible story of resurrection to become so commonplace that we expect others to find no difficulty in accepting it.
No question, no doubt can ever threaten the faith of the church; the threat comes from those who refuse to allow the questions to be asked. The threat arises when we are too fearful to acknowledge that to have faith each of us must continue to see, to perceive the presence of the risen Christ. Thomas isn't the weaker brother; Thomas is the paradigm of us all.
Amen.
John 20:19-31
The Doubting Among Us
The week after Easter has fallen into a rather predictable pattern for me. This pattern has been more evident some years than others, but it is almost always apparent. We experience the great liturgies of Holy Week, we celebrate Easter Sunday with as much fanfare as we can muster, there are the usual shouts of acclamation and joy, and then there come the timid voices passively asking me what all of this really means.
“So when Jesus walked out of the tomb, was it really his body, or was it his spirit?”
“Are we to believe that just because one guy was able to come back to life that all of us have reason to think that we will, too?”
Timid; passive; these voices speak the realities of living 2,000 years after the events recorded for us in the 20th chapter of John’s Gospel. The reality is that we are asked to believe an unimaginable thing about someone whom all accounts describe as exceptional and yet somehow is supposed to parallel our lives. It takes courage to speak up. It takes honestly to speak out.
It is no accident that the lesson for the 2nd Sunday of Easter, the first Sunday after the Easter Celebration, are those stories which call direct attention to the difficultly we all have in believing.
The biblical authors knew that we would experience difficulty in accepting all this. John includes the story of Thomas in order to make clear that those timid, passive voices are never to be excluded from the community. In fact, greater attention is to be given to the voices of those among us who help all of us to acknowledge how tough it is take all this in and not merely accept it, but (as Pastor Shealy shared in last week’s sermon) not merely accept it but proclaim it.
John begins his story by telling us the time. He writes, When it was evening on that day (the day on which Jesus had appeared to Mary of Magdala)... Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." The timing is important because the events of Easter morning are still fresh and raw in the minds of those who had been his disciples. There hasn't been time for reflection; there has not been opportunity to compare notes. It is still very early and what concerns the disciples most is their own safety. Thus they are holed up, in the house, fearful that they may be the next crucifixion victim. Suddenly, Jesus is there among them, even though the door has been locked.
What strikes me about the story is the lack of immediate celebration. As with Mary when she encounters Jesus in the garden and the two disciples who are joined by Jesus on their road to Emmaus, there seems to be a block in recognition. Jesus greets them and yet there is no response; he greets them, but there is no rejoicing. This doesn’t seem to be an oversight on the part of the author; rather it seems an essential part of a story carefully retold. John writes, "Peace be with you." After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. THEN the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
We are so quick to criticize Thomas for refusing to believe until he has had opportunity to see the wounds and place his hand in Jesus' side. We criticize him, but all he wanted was to see what the others had already seen. Of course they believed the story as they retold it to him - they had been there, they had seen. Thomas isn't asking for some sort of a special vision, he is just asking that Jesus do for him what Jesus had done for the others. Of course he doubted. He had been left out of the original visit.
It concerns me that some read this story and see in it a criticism of those who have doubts. For them, Thomas is seen as a negative example. He is the image of what one is not to be. They under¬stand Jesus' words "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe," as a critique of those who refuse to believe unless they can "see." But is this what Jesus intends by his comments? Is it not possible that Jesus' words are intended to be encouragement; encouragement for Thomas and for the remainder of this community we call the Church.
Don't forget that everyone in the original story gets to see. They even get to touch. But, as John realizes, this will not be a possibility for most of those whom Christ will call. They must find the ability to believe from some other source.
In speaking to Thomas, Jesus' words, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe," are an acknowledgment of how difficult it is to come to believe when one hasn't seen the imprint of the nails, the wound in the side. I don't think he is being critical of Thomas; he is giving encouragement to the rank and file of the church, to the millions upon millions who come to believe without ever seeing the imprint of the nails or the wound caused by the spear.
Too often we expect the community of the faithful to be a place of dogma and certainty. Too often we perceive it to be a place where questions are discouraged and obedience is demanded. We have been programmed to read the story of Thomas and hear these words as a condemnation of those who have doubts. I am fearful this is what some will hear, so I feel compelled to offer another view. A view that isn't new and different, but merely a reporting of what so many others have said and said better.
We don't stop being the church or members of the church when we find ourselves questioning or doubting. The one who has doubts does not stop gathering with the other believers. Rather he is there, with them, a week later when once more Jesus came and stood among them. We don't stop being the church or members of the church when we have doubts or questions, rather we stop being the church when we exclude the Thomas' from our midst. We stop being the church when we allow this incredible story of resurrection to become so commonplace that we expect others to find no difficulty in accepting it.
No question, no doubt can ever threaten the faith of the church; the threat comes from those who refuse to allow the questions to be asked. The threat arises when we are too fearful to acknowledge that to have faith each of us must continue to see, to perceive the presence of the risen Christ. Thomas isn't the weaker brother; Thomas is the paradigm of us all.
Amen.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Devotion - Thursday, April 8
As is often the case, the appointed lectionary readings coincide well with the experiences of the faithful. Our Epistle lessons are from I Corinthians 15, where Paul writes of the Resurrection. He is trying to help us understand that there are things about Resurrection that are sure and true, yet there are aspects we will find it difficult to understand.
I attended a funeral yesterday for the father of one of our students. This is the fifth death of parent/grandparent since our return from spring break. In addition, we have had the death of a high school friend. “What is going on?” is the question I was asked yesterday.
At the funeral, the pastor lifted one of the prayer petitions from our funeral liturgy. It reads: “Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand, to believe and trust in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting.”
“Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand.” There are things which will remain forever beyond comprehension. There are things for which we may have all the facts, but be unable to see the whole picture. In the midst of these things, we pray, that God will help us.
It is “the communion of the saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting” which guide us through.
Together, in the communion of the saints, we will find strength to continue. We will find reason to continue to hope.
It is with the assurance of the forgiveness of sins that we will lift the burden off our shoulders in order to stand tall. What is happening is not happening because of an unforgiving master.
And whatever our resurrected body might be like, it will be. It is not for this life only that we have hoped.
“What is going on?” I don’t know. But I do know, without any doubt, that the communion of saints is continually reminding me of God’s presence, God’s forgiveness, and God’s promise that nothing, not even death, will separate me from that which is good and gracious.
I attended a funeral yesterday for the father of one of our students. This is the fifth death of parent/grandparent since our return from spring break. In addition, we have had the death of a high school friend. “What is going on?” is the question I was asked yesterday.
At the funeral, the pastor lifted one of the prayer petitions from our funeral liturgy. It reads: “Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand, to believe and trust in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting.”
“Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand.” There are things which will remain forever beyond comprehension. There are things for which we may have all the facts, but be unable to see the whole picture. In the midst of these things, we pray, that God will help us.
It is “the communion of the saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting” which guide us through.
Together, in the communion of the saints, we will find strength to continue. We will find reason to continue to hope.
It is with the assurance of the forgiveness of sins that we will lift the burden off our shoulders in order to stand tall. What is happening is not happening because of an unforgiving master.
And whatever our resurrected body might be like, it will be. It is not for this life only that we have hoped.
“What is going on?” I don’t know. But I do know, without any doubt, that the communion of saints is continually reminding me of God’s presence, God’s forgiveness, and God’s promise that nothing, not even death, will separate me from that which is good and gracious.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Devotion - Wednesday, April 7
In I Corinthians 15:35-41 Paul responds to the question we all want answered. “But someone will ask, ‘How are the dead raised?’”
We speak of the resurrection, we pray for the resurrection, we hope in the resurrection, but how does it actually happen?
The development of biological sciences has only made this more difficult. Among us there are students and scholars whose work is in the field of reanimation. They could share with us the difficulty of bring back to life that which is dead. I seem to remember a movie, a few years back, which took as its title 29 Grams, supposedly the precise weight which is lost (unexplainably lost) when someone dies. “Is that the weight of the soul, as it leaves the body?” the movie asks.
Paul addresses the question, head on, in I Corinthians 15. Unfortunately, the answer he gives fails to satisfy those who want to know exactly what happens when we die.
He writes, “You foolish person! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. And what you sow is not the body which is to be, but a bare kernel, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain. But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body.”
In short, we don’t know; and we can’t know.
It seems to be a matter of trust – we are called upon to trust that whatever kind of body God gives us, it will be just fine. We are to trust that whatever the resurrection is like, it will be glorious. We are to trust that whatever form we take, it will be appropriate.
After all, the resurrection comes to those who live their lives trusting in God, right? Resurrection is the promise extended to those who have placed their own private interest in a secondary role to the hopes and promises of God. Resurrection happens when we stop thinking about ourselves and begin to live for the one who gives life to all things.
Paul chides his readers. He reminds them that their attention need not be on their own form, but on the form of praise they (and this new body) can offer to God.
I wish I knew. It would be helpful and comforting to know. But it is enough to remember that God has been good and gracious to me in this life, so I will find the strength to trust that whatever God has in store for me for all eternity can only be good and gracious, too.
We speak of the resurrection, we pray for the resurrection, we hope in the resurrection, but how does it actually happen?
The development of biological sciences has only made this more difficult. Among us there are students and scholars whose work is in the field of reanimation. They could share with us the difficulty of bring back to life that which is dead. I seem to remember a movie, a few years back, which took as its title 29 Grams, supposedly the precise weight which is lost (unexplainably lost) when someone dies. “Is that the weight of the soul, as it leaves the body?” the movie asks.
Paul addresses the question, head on, in I Corinthians 15. Unfortunately, the answer he gives fails to satisfy those who want to know exactly what happens when we die.
He writes, “You foolish person! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. And what you sow is not the body which is to be, but a bare kernel, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain. But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body.”
In short, we don’t know; and we can’t know.
It seems to be a matter of trust – we are called upon to trust that whatever kind of body God gives us, it will be just fine. We are to trust that whatever the resurrection is like, it will be glorious. We are to trust that whatever form we take, it will be appropriate.
After all, the resurrection comes to those who live their lives trusting in God, right? Resurrection is the promise extended to those who have placed their own private interest in a secondary role to the hopes and promises of God. Resurrection happens when we stop thinking about ourselves and begin to live for the one who gives life to all things.
Paul chides his readers. He reminds them that their attention need not be on their own form, but on the form of praise they (and this new body) can offer to God.
I wish I knew. It would be helpful and comforting to know. But it is enough to remember that God has been good and gracious to me in this life, so I will find the strength to trust that whatever God has in store for me for all eternity can only be good and gracious, too.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Devotion - Tuesday, April 6
Mark’s Gospel has several endings. It is commonly believed that the original writing ended at verse 8. Noted there was the fear which overtook the first witnesses to the resurrection. Verse 8 ends, “and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”
This ending is of concern to those who know that these witnesses did, eventually tell the story. They became the witnesses who enabled others to believe.
As time passed, this acknowledgement was included in the scrolls sent from congregation to congregation. Mark’s “Gospel” began to include notes of what happened, after these witnesses overcame their “trembling and astonishment.”
Mark 16:9-20 recounts the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus. There is even the note that “he upbraided (the eleven) for their unbelief and hardness of heart.”
These verses complete the story, but we must not allow them to overpower that original ending.
It has been suggested that Mark ends his writing with the notation, “and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid,” as a way of reminding his readers that no one will know the story unless we re-tell it. Rather than being critical of those first witnesses, it is Mark’s way of confronting each of us with the decision we must make – will we say nothing to anyone or will we proclaim what it is that God has done?
The Easter story is a story, repeated when appropriate but exercising little impact on our lives, unless we place ourselves in that story and begin to live it. What has been your reaction to the events recounted for us 48 hours ago? Have you said nothing to anyone, or have your given witness to the marvelous thing that God is doing?
This ending is of concern to those who know that these witnesses did, eventually tell the story. They became the witnesses who enabled others to believe.
As time passed, this acknowledgement was included in the scrolls sent from congregation to congregation. Mark’s “Gospel” began to include notes of what happened, after these witnesses overcame their “trembling and astonishment.”
Mark 16:9-20 recounts the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus. There is even the note that “he upbraided (the eleven) for their unbelief and hardness of heart.”
These verses complete the story, but we must not allow them to overpower that original ending.
It has been suggested that Mark ends his writing with the notation, “and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid,” as a way of reminding his readers that no one will know the story unless we re-tell it. Rather than being critical of those first witnesses, it is Mark’s way of confronting each of us with the decision we must make – will we say nothing to anyone or will we proclaim what it is that God has done?
The Easter story is a story, repeated when appropriate but exercising little impact on our lives, unless we place ourselves in that story and begin to live it. What has been your reaction to the events recounted for us 48 hours ago? Have you said nothing to anyone, or have your given witness to the marvelous thing that God is doing?
Monday, April 5, 2010
Devotion - Monday, April 5
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
It was later in the afternoon yesterday when I received these words as a text message on my cell phone. They came from an alumni, an alumni who had remained in Clemson for a few years after graduation, meaning we had celebrated many Easters together. During those years, we had shared many experiences, some where the promise of resurrection was the anchor enabled us to continue.
A phone call, a hour or so later, began with these same words. “No one has spoken these words to me, yet. I needed to hear them.” Taking advantage of the opportunity to visit the church of loved ones who had died, this person had a wonderful Easter morning experience, but had not heard the refrain which signals Easter to those at home in liturgical churches.
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
Pastor Shealy spoke yesterday of each of us as “proclaimers” of the good news. And that we are. It is in speaking the words to one another that their power is made known. It is the repeating of these words in each generation which makes it possible for the next to embrace faith. Our faith developed on the traditions of those who have gone before us; the faithful response of those who come after us will be built on our witness.
Christ is risen! Christ in risen indeed! Let us repeat the refrain and share the good news and make real in the lives of those around us the hope and promise which is ours in Christ Jesus.
It was later in the afternoon yesterday when I received these words as a text message on my cell phone. They came from an alumni, an alumni who had remained in Clemson for a few years after graduation, meaning we had celebrated many Easters together. During those years, we had shared many experiences, some where the promise of resurrection was the anchor enabled us to continue.
A phone call, a hour or so later, began with these same words. “No one has spoken these words to me, yet. I needed to hear them.” Taking advantage of the opportunity to visit the church of loved ones who had died, this person had a wonderful Easter morning experience, but had not heard the refrain which signals Easter to those at home in liturgical churches.
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
Pastor Shealy spoke yesterday of each of us as “proclaimers” of the good news. And that we are. It is in speaking the words to one another that their power is made known. It is the repeating of these words in each generation which makes it possible for the next to embrace faith. Our faith developed on the traditions of those who have gone before us; the faithful response of those who come after us will be built on our witness.
Christ is risen! Christ in risen indeed! Let us repeat the refrain and share the good news and make real in the lives of those around us the hope and promise which is ours in Christ Jesus.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good Friday Sermon
Good Friday - 2010
April 2, 2010
Artificial Light
It doesn’t really work – does it? This elaborate ritual, devised centuries ago, which has aided the faithful in every generation. This wonderful service of transformation into darkness hits a snag in our day, tonight, here.
Symbolically we have moved to darkness – symbolically. But not in reality. You can still see me, can’t you? I can still read my sermon notes – almost. This wonderful ancient liturgy, designed to transport us from light into dark doesn’t really work.
One of the culprits is day light savings time. If we were still on standard time, it would be dark. But we decided (“we” being the wise, technologically advanced persons we are) we decided to adjust our clocks and re-arrange our workday thus giving us one more hour to play on the lake or manicure our English garden type front lawns. “We” decided, and “we” could do it, so we did. And then we tell everyone – everyone, including those with religious interests that the clock we have decided to adjust will rule the day and not the movement of God’s sun.
It is amazing what we can do. We become so amazed with ourselves that we cannot avoid the temptation to do that which we are capable of. And so we strap a Timex on our wrist or invest in a Rolex, and we follow the methodical clicks of spinning wheels and no longer allow our lives to be governed by the movement of God’s sun.
Amazing, isn’t it?
What some would call amazing is that a flock of folks would set their alarms in order to gather in a specially crafted building in order to try to pretend that “we” haven’t already figured out a way to take care of all this fear of darkness stuff.
Everyone knows, right? That all we have to do is walk back there to that panel of switches and start to flip a few and pretty soon this whole charade falls apart. Heck, forget the switches. If all of us took out our cell phones and opened them up they would give off enough light to perform minor surgery.
Darkness? What darkness? There is darkness in the world ONLY IF WE CHOOSE to turn off those switches. You have to work at it, in order to find a place – or - be in a place where there is no light. There is darkness only if we choose.
The same can be said for silence.
Good Friday is all about darkness and silence. The darkness swirls all around Jesus. Part of the story is the acknowledgment that darkness over takes Jerusalem from noon till three in the afternoon.
God remains silent – even as Jesus cries from the cross, “My God, My God, why have your forsaken me?”
Darkness and silence. We do a great job pushing them back; denying their existence.
All we need to do is flip a switch. And if I turn my head the wrong way this wireless mic is likely to give us that annoying screeching noise. Annoying, but reassuring, to those who have grown uncomfortable because of the silence.
We have created for ourselves a world bathed in light and sound. Forget the stereo on my shelf at home, I have a boom box in my office, an MP3 player in my book bag and two iPods loaded down with music and radio news shows. We have not just one but three of those handy gadgets which make the flood lights come on as you move from our driveway to our backyard to my woodworking shop. Darkness? What darkness? Silence? What silence?
There is an adjective sometimes used for the lights which illuminate our footpath and makes it possible to see the threatening thing in the yard which has the dog upset and barking. I think, technically, the word still applies, though I would admit that it has gone out of vogue. Isn’t it appropriate to call this kind of light “artificial lighting.” Is that phrase still used enough that you are familiar with it? Are there still references to incandescent, or florescent, or CFL, or LED lighting as “artificial lighting”? We do remember that this is what it is – don’t we? Do we remember that when it was first installed in our homes we called it “artificial lighting”?
It might take some reminding. This is the kind of light we are most accustomed to. This is the kind of lighting which we use the most. Even during the brightest of days, we go inside a building and flip on a switch and we can’t tell or don’t even remember whether the sun is bright or shielded or set. We love our artificial light.
And our love affair with artificial light allows us to ignore the dark, to push back the darkness and to flood every minute of our lives with lots of bright and glorious – artificial – light.
It may be artificial, but if it is all we know. And the danger is that pretty soon we start to believe that it is the real thing – don’t we?
Our love affair with artificial light and artificial sound encourages us to ignore the reality of darkness. Encourages us. But those of us who know darkness knows that all the encouragement in the world won’t overcome the fear and the horror associated with that darkness. Of course I am not referring to physical darkness, but the kind which is much more insidious – the darkness associated with brokenness and heartache. The world’s artificial light can do nothing to push these back.
The true Light has come into the world. Some will turn away from this Light because it exposes their evil deeds. Others will turn away from the Light because they are encouraged to trust the artificial lights sold to them at their local Walmart.
The true light, as fragile as it may appear, is the only hope we have of overcoming the darkness.
Amen.
April 2, 2010
Artificial Light
It doesn’t really work – does it? This elaborate ritual, devised centuries ago, which has aided the faithful in every generation. This wonderful service of transformation into darkness hits a snag in our day, tonight, here.
Symbolically we have moved to darkness – symbolically. But not in reality. You can still see me, can’t you? I can still read my sermon notes – almost. This wonderful ancient liturgy, designed to transport us from light into dark doesn’t really work.
One of the culprits is day light savings time. If we were still on standard time, it would be dark. But we decided (“we” being the wise, technologically advanced persons we are) we decided to adjust our clocks and re-arrange our workday thus giving us one more hour to play on the lake or manicure our English garden type front lawns. “We” decided, and “we” could do it, so we did. And then we tell everyone – everyone, including those with religious interests that the clock we have decided to adjust will rule the day and not the movement of God’s sun.
It is amazing what we can do. We become so amazed with ourselves that we cannot avoid the temptation to do that which we are capable of. And so we strap a Timex on our wrist or invest in a Rolex, and we follow the methodical clicks of spinning wheels and no longer allow our lives to be governed by the movement of God’s sun.
Amazing, isn’t it?
What some would call amazing is that a flock of folks would set their alarms in order to gather in a specially crafted building in order to try to pretend that “we” haven’t already figured out a way to take care of all this fear of darkness stuff.
Everyone knows, right? That all we have to do is walk back there to that panel of switches and start to flip a few and pretty soon this whole charade falls apart. Heck, forget the switches. If all of us took out our cell phones and opened them up they would give off enough light to perform minor surgery.
Darkness? What darkness? There is darkness in the world ONLY IF WE CHOOSE to turn off those switches. You have to work at it, in order to find a place – or - be in a place where there is no light. There is darkness only if we choose.
The same can be said for silence.
Good Friday is all about darkness and silence. The darkness swirls all around Jesus. Part of the story is the acknowledgment that darkness over takes Jerusalem from noon till three in the afternoon.
God remains silent – even as Jesus cries from the cross, “My God, My God, why have your forsaken me?”
Darkness and silence. We do a great job pushing them back; denying their existence.
All we need to do is flip a switch. And if I turn my head the wrong way this wireless mic is likely to give us that annoying screeching noise. Annoying, but reassuring, to those who have grown uncomfortable because of the silence.
We have created for ourselves a world bathed in light and sound. Forget the stereo on my shelf at home, I have a boom box in my office, an MP3 player in my book bag and two iPods loaded down with music and radio news shows. We have not just one but three of those handy gadgets which make the flood lights come on as you move from our driveway to our backyard to my woodworking shop. Darkness? What darkness? Silence? What silence?
There is an adjective sometimes used for the lights which illuminate our footpath and makes it possible to see the threatening thing in the yard which has the dog upset and barking. I think, technically, the word still applies, though I would admit that it has gone out of vogue. Isn’t it appropriate to call this kind of light “artificial lighting.” Is that phrase still used enough that you are familiar with it? Are there still references to incandescent, or florescent, or CFL, or LED lighting as “artificial lighting”? We do remember that this is what it is – don’t we? Do we remember that when it was first installed in our homes we called it “artificial lighting”?
It might take some reminding. This is the kind of light we are most accustomed to. This is the kind of lighting which we use the most. Even during the brightest of days, we go inside a building and flip on a switch and we can’t tell or don’t even remember whether the sun is bright or shielded or set. We love our artificial light.
And our love affair with artificial light allows us to ignore the dark, to push back the darkness and to flood every minute of our lives with lots of bright and glorious – artificial – light.
It may be artificial, but if it is all we know. And the danger is that pretty soon we start to believe that it is the real thing – don’t we?
Our love affair with artificial light and artificial sound encourages us to ignore the reality of darkness. Encourages us. But those of us who know darkness knows that all the encouragement in the world won’t overcome the fear and the horror associated with that darkness. Of course I am not referring to physical darkness, but the kind which is much more insidious – the darkness associated with brokenness and heartache. The world’s artificial light can do nothing to push these back.
The true Light has come into the world. Some will turn away from this Light because it exposes their evil deeds. Others will turn away from the Light because they are encouraged to trust the artificial lights sold to them at their local Walmart.
The true light, as fragile as it may appear, is the only hope we have of overcoming the darkness.
Amen.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Devotion - Thursday of Holy Week
The liturgy for Maundy Thursday includes the option of foot washing. I had never experienced this part of the liturgy until seminary. I also remember the opposition to it, when I introduced it in my first parish. “We aren’t going to do that again,” the Council President told me.
The washing of feet is central to the story. Jesus is at table with his disciples; he removes his garments, takes the bowl of water, and washes their feet. He asks them to reflect on this. He tells them that this is the kind of leadership they are to emulate. The master is also the servant.
The world has very clear ideas about what it means to be the chief officer. Something within us pushes us toward the top and assumes that being at the top brings privileges. Jesus turns that upside down. Jesus instructs us that to be the master is to be the greatest servant of all.
The word “Maundy” derives from the Latin word “commandment.” On this Maundy Thursday, Jesus gives us a new commandment. “You are to love one another as I have first loved you.” We show this love by being the servant.
Our evening liturgy will include the washing of feet. It will feel a bit odd and maybe even uncomfortable. But it is a wonderful way to experience the commandment given to us by Christ. Find some way, in your devotion to God, to experience the same.
The washing of feet is central to the story. Jesus is at table with his disciples; he removes his garments, takes the bowl of water, and washes their feet. He asks them to reflect on this. He tells them that this is the kind of leadership they are to emulate. The master is also the servant.
The world has very clear ideas about what it means to be the chief officer. Something within us pushes us toward the top and assumes that being at the top brings privileges. Jesus turns that upside down. Jesus instructs us that to be the master is to be the greatest servant of all.
The word “Maundy” derives from the Latin word “commandment.” On this Maundy Thursday, Jesus gives us a new commandment. “You are to love one another as I have first loved you.” We show this love by being the servant.
Our evening liturgy will include the washing of feet. It will feel a bit odd and maybe even uncomfortable. But it is a wonderful way to experience the commandment given to us by Christ. Find some way, in your devotion to God, to experience the same.
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