Devotion - Thursday, February 26

Most of us are familiar with John 3:16.  It is one of those verses which even non-bible readers can recite.  But how many of the verses in this same chapter of John can we repeat?

I appreciate verse 19.  It reads, "the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil."

It isn't the tone of condemnation that I appreciate, it is the acknowledgement that we hide way too many of our actions and deny way too many of our thoughts.  It creeps some folks out when I say this, but if you can't tell your campus pastor how you spent your weekend, you probably didn't spend it appropriately.  I am not interested in a voyeuristic look at your life; but I do believe we hide far too much from those who are prepared to assist us in our journey of faith.

Which is the real me?  The "me" I present to you all when we are gathered at the church, or the me that is revealed when I am in a place where no one recognizes me or knows my name?

The light has come into the world.  All those dark shadows have been dispelled.  We have to go looking for darkness.  And yet, far too many do.  They would prefer that their actions not be seen by others - seen by God.

Devotion - Wednesday, February 25

I am currently reading through Hebrews.  In the opening chapters, the writer discusses the "faith" of Abraham.  The word used is one that we often use - "believe."  This is a word with many meanings, many nuances.  And when used in scriptures it certainly means more than giving mental assent to what has been proposed.

We believe the Earth is third planet in our solar system.

We believe antibiotics will treat an infection.

We believe an Excel spreed sheet will accurately add the numbers in a column and give us a true sum.

To "believe" in God or Jesus is different.  As used in the scripture, it implies a trust, and alteration in one's life as a result of that which we have come to believe.

It was the advent of modern scientific method and all the new-found information which lead the Church in the late 1800's to arrive at what have been called the 5 core "beliefs".  Being a follower of Jesus, being a right and true Christian, got translated into "believing" those things.  It became the litmus test.  "Believing what the world cannot accept" was the measure of being a follower.

"Believing", in the Biblical story, means more.  It means trusting and serving as Jesus served.

Strive to become a "believer".  Strive to be one who trusts and depends on God.  Most "believers" remain unsure as to the details, but we have a deep and unwavering confidence in our belief.

Devotion - Tueday, February 24

The story of Jesus driving the money changers out of the Temple is too often misapplied in contemporary Church talk.  We read the story and we insert the conclusion that God/Jesus does not want us to bring money into our worship life or our worship space.

From there, it is a really small step to insist that we never talk about money and God in the same conversation.

This is not what the story of Jesus and the cleansing of the Temple (today I read it from John 2, if you need to familiarize yourself with it) is all about.

You need to start now, developing a godly understanding of how you will make use of the resources you have.  Many of you will be thinking, "I don't have any money." and you may be correct in that all that you are not earning an income.  But  you do have money.  And you use it at your discretion.  

This is not a plug for supporting LCM-C (that plug will come when you graduate ;).  It is an invitation to realize that the patterns you set now will carry into your adult life.  If you find reasons for not sharing what you have in your wallet now, you will have even more reasons when you are earning a salary.

Read John 2.  See what you think.  Is it not those who were using money for their own gain who angered Jesus?  And join me in overcoming the reluctance to talk about money and God in the same conversation.

Devotion - Monday, February 23

Yesterday, I went to hear a couple of lectures by an Episcopal Priest/writer/teacher by the name of Barbara Brown Taylor.  She spoke on "Loving One's Neighbor," making use of the concept of "Holy Envy."

By Holy Envy she meant the openness to looking across the fence and noticing aspects of the neighbor's religious customs/beliefs/practices which we wished we also had.

She did not make reference to Lent, but I was wondering about comparisons between Lent and Ramadan.  The Christian traditions associated with Lent are diverse; my limited observing of Ramadan has suggested to me that followers know what is expected of them and thus they do not spend the first week wondering if this discipline choice is appropriate.

She did not say it, but I wondered if our basic theological affirmation that in Christ we have been set free (and how we in our culture have taken "freedom" primarily as a reference to personal freedom) impedes our willingness to be told "This is how you are to observe Lent!"

When faced with unlimited choices, the choice I make is often to merely not get around to choosing.

"Holy Envy" will hit me most acutely come Easter.  When I find myself "surprised" that Lent is already over and the Alleluias are once more being sung, I will be envious of those for whom these 40 days were a time of dedication to the spiritual life, were a period of preparing and anticipating, were an opportunity to not merely confess but to follow.

This is potential Lent holds for us.

Devotion - Thursday, February 19

The lectionary has me reading from Paul's letter to Titus.  In the middle verses of the first chapter, Paul addresses the inability of one who is corrupt to do anything which is good.  He also teaches that all that which flows from the life of one who is aligned with Christ is pure.

We often have the debate among ourselves as to whether there is a difference between a meal being given to a hungry child by a follower of Jesus or by someone who has no thought of God at all.

Surely, to the hungry child, there is no difference.  Certainly, all the faithful would join in celebrating that another of God's created ones has a full stomach.  The difference, if there is one, would be in the heart and mind of the one who gives.  The follower of Jesus gives with a strong realization that anything I may share is but a small sample of what I have first received.

There is another difference which I believe might be important.  When I give, I intend to help.  It is my intention to assist the other person.  Sometimes, what I offer isn't actually helpful to them.  I may offer a meal when they need a warm pair of socks.  I may give them a cupcake only to later discover they have diabetes.  My gift may encourage dependency (have you become familiar with the concept of "Toxic Charity"?)  If any of this is true, and I begin to realize it to be true, I can very easily change my course.  I am not upset or bothered when it is suggested that my offering might not be the thing which is needed or that it may not actually be helpful.  My goal was to serve.  I can choose a differing method to serve.  

That which flows through me is pure, because it is offered to the other.  That which I do is the right thing because I do it in the name of one who taught us to serve.  I may stumble in my attempts to serve, but my heart is set on serving so a way will be found.

Serving others is one of the disciplines of Lent.  Find ways to make it part of these next 39 days.

Devotion - Monday, February 16

I want to use this morning's writing as an opportunity to get you thinking about your Lenten discipline.  The season of Lent served as the final 40 days in which persons desiring to make a public affirmation of their faith underwent their final process of discernment.  It may be appropriate, given the role of the church in the modern world, for us to use these 40 days in a similar manner.

What would it involve, for you to see this Easter as your first?  How would you prepare, should April 5, 2015 be the day that you would for the first time stand with the faithful and make your proclamation of faith?

These 40 days of Lent are to prepare us for such a transition in our lives.

Surely, over these next 40 days, you could read at least one of the Gospel narratives.  We are in the year of Mark, and while there are various interruptions, we will be reading from Mark for most of the year.  It would be a good use of these 40 days to read Mark, re-read Mark, and perhaps construct your own outline of the material contained in it.

One of the concerns in the sociology of religion is that most persons engage in acts of community service only when it is organized for them.  Surely, over these next 40 days, an afternoon or two could be spent assisting at the food pantry or the shelter for homeless or the restore for children.

How will you use these 40 days?  Will they be different from the remaining 325 in the year?

Now is the time to prepare.

Another part of the Lenten journey is pastoral conversation.  I make it a priority to visit with you, and welcome invitations to talk.  Together, we might discover your area of greatest strength and your area of greatest need with regard to spiritual life.  Give me a call.

Sermon - Transfiguration Sunday

Mark 9:2-9 

Transfigured Lives 

 

One of the reasons pastors change churches is so they will have stories to tell.  You can’t use someone as an example in your sermon if everyone else already knows them. So it is safe to tell stories about folks in previous parishes.  Today I want to tell you a story about a particular family in the congregation I served in Upper Michigan.

 

When the oldest child, Hannah, was about nine she announced to the rest of the family that she would like to start going to church.  The parents, Steve and Ellen said, "Okay, what kind of church would you like to attend?"  Hannah said she wanted to go to a church like the one her grand­mother attended.  As they questioned her more closely they learned that “a church like the one grandmother attended” meant "brick".  Realizing that other similarities might be important, the decision was made to bring the family to the local ELCA parish, Good Shepherd.

 

Sometime after the family attended, I paid them a visit.  It was a visit like none other.  After I arrived and we exchanged pleasantries, then they sent the children away - I mean out of the house and down the street.  Steve and Ellen were prepared with a whole host of questions about the church's theological stance.  They wanted to know how seriously we took the doctrines they had read about.  Don't get me wrong, I loved every minute of the conversation, but it was quite different from the exchange of smiles and stories that usually occupies an initial visit.   

What I remember most was their honesty as to why they had started coming to church.  It was because Hannah wanted to come.  They told me it was their intention to bring her and her younger brother (Karl) in order that they might learn the basic teachings, and thus be more at home in American Christian culture.  But that was about as far as they saw their involvement extending.

 

The Siedel family was at Good Shepherd five years before we moved down here.  Before we left, Steve had been elected to serve as Vice President of the Council; he chaired the Mutual Minis­tries Committee and had consented to be nominated to the Synod Council.  Ellen was the chair of the Christian Educa­tion Committee and co-superintendent of the Sunday Church School program.

 

I teased them about their earlier comment and subsequent involvement.  Their respons­es revealed the reason for heightened interest.  It wasn't so much the doctrine of the church that pulled them inside, it was the experience of community.  They did not learn something that caused them to want to be at Good Shepherd every time the doors opened.  They came because they discovered an opportunity too good to pass up.  Within the church they found themselves in the company of those who lived transfigured lives.

 

Say what you want, teach what you may, a faith journey does­n't begin until one experiences.  Something has to happen, some­thing must be observed, before faith begins and misgivings subside. 

Today is the Sunday of the Transfiguration.  This feast is one of my fav­orite because it plays such an important role in the unfolding of the Church year.  There is much to be learned and appreciated about this day and the events we recall through our readings.  I looked back through my old sermons and realized that this is exactly the approach I have taken for most of the years I have preached on Transfiguration.  On this day, I tend to preached heady stuff.  On Transfigura­tion Sunday, I speak as much wisdom as possible.  Countless hours have been devoted to analyzing and retell­ing the mysteries of the Transfiguration.

 

But the Transfiguration is about something different.  There is a lot of infor­mation and meaning contained in the story of Jesus' Trans­figura­tion, but it is primarily an experi­ence.  It may not be as impor­tant to consider what Jesus and the disciples learned through all of this.  Rather the significance of this story may lie in what they experi­enced and how it changed their lives. 

The gospel writers try to tell us that this is the approach to be taken.  The story of Jesus' transfiguration is in the 9th chapter, verses 2-9.  Just before this story, we have two paragraphs in which Jesus tells the disciples that he will be traveling to Jerusalem.  Once there, he is to experience the rejec­tion of the priests and scribes, and be condemned to death.  Those two paragraphs are introduced with these words: Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering and be rejected ... and be killed, and after three days rise again.  He began to tell them what was going to happen.  For the first time in the gospel narrative, Jesus re­vealed these things to them.  The story of the Transfiguration comes immediately ­upon the heels of Jesus beginning to try and teach the disciples who he really was and what he had to do.

 

What happens as a result of his efforts?  They don't under­stand.  Those two earlier paragraphs also contain the exchange between Jesus and Peter in which Peter's refusal to accept what Jesus is saying ends with Jesus telling him,   "Get behind me, Satan!"  Jesus tries to tell them, but no­body understands.  It just doesn't make any sense to them.

 

So what does the gospel writer do?  He follows this worth­less attempt at sharing information with an experience.  They don't understand when Jesus tells them, but when they see his appear­ance transfigured they know that something about him is worthy of their devotion.  The experience accomplished what no amount of teaching ever could - it started them on their journey of faith.

 

Interesting to note that as the four of them are making their way down the mountain, Jesus tells the three disciples to tell no one about what they had seen, until after ....(he)... had been risen from the dead.  Mark continues to drive home the point - until others have also shared in the experience they will not be able to understand the words.  "Wait", Jesus tells them, "until a time when the words will serve to elucidate the experience."   Then, and only then, will the words make sense.

Every now and then we need to drop all our doctrinal state­ments about Jesus and admit that we believe because some­thing has con­vinced us that this stuff makes a difference in our lives.  We must acknowledge that while we have many good reasons for believ­ing, we believe because we have experienced something too pro­found to ignore.

 

This Wednesday we begin our Lenten pilgrimage.  During those 40 days, we follow the path of Jesus' route to the cross.  It is a time to set aside insight and knowledge and form­ulas.  It is a time to experience.  To encounter the love of a God who cares enough to take on our suffering.

 

Others may try to tell you what that means - but it won't do any good.  You must experience it for yourself.  Until you do, nothing about your life will change.  But when that experience does come, nothing is ever the same again.

 

AMEN.