Christmas Poetry

John 1:1-18

In the beginning was the Word, & the Word was with God, & the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, & without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, & the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, & the darkness did not overcome it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, & the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, & his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh & lived among us, & we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace & truth. (John testified to him & cried out, "This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’") From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace & truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

It seems to me that Christmas Eve is a time to wonder. Wonder at the love of God, who has come to save us. Wonder at the angles. Wonder at the shepherds. Wonder at the child.  It is not a time to speak of big concepts like the incarnation. 

Maybe this Sunday, though, we can plumb some of the depths of Christmas, and perhaps John chapter one gives us the chance to do this.

In a sermon a few years ago . . . I said this:

If you think about it, while we love the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke best. . . with Mary and; Joseph and; the babe in the manger, with the shepherds and; the angels, and; Mary pondering in her heart - what we imagine Mary pondering, is the first chapter of John. These words give us the framework we use to understand the birth of Jesus. 

I saw that the other day and thought, "that is SUCH a good line! Man, I'm good!"
Then I looked to see if I lifted that line from someone else.
Alas, I did.
As Al Rogness told me, “We all have to steal from somebody. You might as well steal from someone good.” 

I think that, at times, I have been tempted by the beauty of these words, to wax poetic about the Word. 

But the interesting thing is that these lofty words tell of the quite startingly down to earth, frightneningly humble, condescension of God.
PNT had a nice sermon last year, he began by talking about a kid who liked to take everything apart, to see how it worked. He suggested that John (now this is a very terse summation) is taking apart the incarnation here, and that the Logos is the building block of the universe. And that Jesus is the one through whom all is made. He makes all things tick. PNT then takes the hearers through the whole story - to the cross - (I like this line) "the embodied logos will also be the embattled logos. - and ends up suggesting that this one is the one who makes us all tick.
Nice.

Frederick Buechner, in his definition of incarnation in “Wishful Thinking” begins this way:

“The Word became flesh” wrote John, “and; dwelt among us, full of grace and; truth.” That is what incarnation means. It is untheological. It is unsophisticated. It is undignified. But according to Christianity, it is the way things are.

 He concludes his short definition with this great line: 

. . One of the blunders religious people are particularly fond of making is the attempt to be more spiritual than God.

That gets at the crux of the matter, doesn't it?

Sign Sign Everywhere a Sign

Luke 2

And this will be a sign for you; You shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. 

Here’s the question that comes to mind for me: 

What kind of sign is this? 

This question might well give rise to some other questions.
Like: Do you expect us to understand this sign?
Were we to expect this sign?
Did we ask for a sign?
and there might be some other questions we might ask. . . 

Like: What does this sign say?

What does it say about God? 

What does it say about you? 

What does it say about me? 

What does this sign say about this whole story we gather to celebrate on Christmas eve?

So often - thinking a bit about the richness of Christmas - the place I go is Emmanuel. What a wonder that God has chosen to be with us in the person of Jesus Christ. . . 

This sign, I suspect, speaks of the sort of God who has sent those angels to sing to the shepherds. The sort of God who would find Godself in a manger, as an infant, amongst refugees.

I saw this last week (I think) and set it aside for this post. It is from an article about the book, “An Agnostic’s Quest” by Michael Krasny. The article suggested that the agnostic writer, might perhaps have “spiritual envy” of a believer. In the excerpt from the book he had quite a quote:

I was struck by a memorable line from the British writer Julian Barnes, who said, "I don't believe in God but I miss him." That statement resonated for me, not so much the part about not believing, but the part about missing. As a boy I was certain God was with me, watching over me, a friend and confidant I could rely on. Excerpted from Spiritual Envy: An Agnostic's Quest by Michael Krasny 

“I don’t believe in God, but I miss him.”

I wonder if that doesn’t name the experience of countless people. People who don’t believe, and deeply miss God. Or their believing is a belief in such a God, that they don't really feel like THAT God could possibly have anything to do with them and with their lives.  And, so, they too, as believers, miss God, as much or more as anyone.
And I also wonder, if part of the missing of God, has to do with a looking for God in all the wrong places. 

God will not be found “somewhere over the rainbow.” (to sort of keep the odd, alluding to song lyrics theme going here.)

This will be a sign for you.

This is from the opening paragraph of Luther on the Magnificat

When the holy virgin experienced what great things God was working in her despite her insignificance, lowliness, poverty, and inferiority, the Holy Spirit taught her this deep insight and wisdom, that God is the kind of Lord who does nothing but exalt those of low degree and put down the mighty from their thrones, in short, break what is whole and make whole what is broken. LW 21 p. 299

Not only does God exalt those of low degree, and put down the mighty. God chooses to dwell with those of low degree. God chooses to be found among the refugees, with those who are broken, those who are lost and considered of no account. God chooses to come to us, not with power, not inspiring fear, but bearing burdens, bringing healing,proclaiming forgiveness, offering peace, entering death itself, so that you might have life.

This will be a sign for you.

I Dreamed a Dream

Matthew 1:18–25

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

"Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means, "God is with us." When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

Not preaching this Sunday.

I wonder if I would even mention Joseph’s dreaming. . . 

Maybe I’d work with that - there might be some fun with that. You could have video of Susan Boyle singing “I Dreamed a Dream”

Or not.

There are a lot of things I like about this text. 

I consider Joseph the patron saint of adoptive fathers - heck adoptive parents. There is a certain strangeness to adoption - (and a certain dreaming as well. Dreams fulfilled in ways you wouldn’t suspect (or ways you wouldn’t dream, I guess).) And so, I like to think about Jesus as an adopted child, and this holy family coming together as gift of God. 

What I find most compelling with this text is that Joseph has - in his righteousness - decided to act totally contrary to God’s plan for the salvation of the world.

Daniel Patte, in his commentary “The Gospel According to Matthew A Structural Commentary on Matthew’s Faith” makes this insight quite well. 

He says that Joseph needed the angel to appear to him in order for him to have a correct understanding of who Jesus is. . . .

...he had an incorrect evaluatoin as long as he, the righteous Joseph, the husband of Mary, was on his own. ...Joseph’s righteousness was of no help to him to gain the proper perspective of the situation. In fact, the opposition makes it clare that it is as “righteous” that Joseph makes an incorrect evaluation of the situation, and this even though his righteousness is the better righteousness (5:20) of a person who has mercy and compassion (5:38-48; 7:12) for someone else. This is indicated by wanting to divorce Mary quietly so as not to expose her to shame. (1:19) Yet such a righteousness is not enough. Something is missing or incoreect in it. pg 26

People say, "If only we could keep the Christmas Spirit year round." I say we can't even maintain it for Christmas. Sounds kinda curmudgeonly, I guess. But sadly. Its true.  Our best isn't good enough.

We look ahead to a salvation that will save us from even our own righteousness. 

I Never Expected That

Matthew 11:2-11

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and; said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus answered them, "Go and; tell John what you hear and; see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and; the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me."

As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: "What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and; more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written,

`See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’ 

Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he."

Expect the unexpected. . . 

Google that and you’ll get over 700,000 hits.

hmmmm

Like this quote from Oscar Wilde: “To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect.” How marvelously modern of you Oscar. It also seems a tad - I don’t know - ironic? gnostic? arrogant?

Whatever. 

This story of John the Baptist and his question for Jesus - is perhaps most of all - sort of sad. At least, I gained that sense reading the reflections of Russell Rathbun on thehadestquestion.org. Of course, that might have been just me. . . 

The question of expectations comes to mind with John this week, and I wonder how to get at this.

I think of two illustrations:

First: Years ago, I read a wacky story in the Minneapolis paper. Apparently, somewhere in rural Minnesota, a guy was sitting in his living room, when a car crashed into his house and came to rest a few feet away. The brief story had a marvelous picture of the car sticking out of the house. What I remember is the quote from the man - where he said - essentially - “Its hard to believe this happened HERE. You expect something like this to happen in the Cities, but not here.”

That kind of made me nervous, sitting in my living room in the Cities. . . 

Expectations

Second: My mom would set her expectations for family Christmas gatherings so high - that she couldn’t help but be disappointed. I have been known to suggest that she did this on purpose. (I’m better now.) 

This is an intriguing reality, that, to one extent or another is repeated in many many households each year. Christmas expectations not being met. Disappointment where the greatest joy should be found. . .

Maybe John’s expectations of the Christ - and the sadness of his question - speak to a universal experience. Maybe this is a question each of us must ask at some point. “Are you the one, or are we to wait for another?” Notice, he doesn’t say “should we LOOK for another?” He knows there’s no other out there. He asks if we should WAIT for another. 
I think of a strangely marvelous quote from Walker Percy: 

Walker Percy, around 1991 or so: in an interview shortly before he died, mentioned that he was a Catholic who worshiped regularly, read the bible and studied theologians. 

The interviewer, surprised at this, asked "How is such belief possible in this day and age?"

"What else is there?" Percy responded. The interviewer responded by listing all sorts of alternatives, such as atheism, humanism, agnosticism, materialism, Marxism, astrology, theosophy, metaphysics and on and on. 

Percy simply replied, "That is what I mean. What else is there?"- in Martin Marty’s Context (and quoted in my unpublished tome “10 Seconds with God: A reader for folks with a short attention span (and some of their friends))

Jesus may not meet expectations, but we also know there’s nothing else out there.

That can be a sad commentary, I guess, if we must somehow “lower” our expectations. But perhaps Matthew tells us this story so that we might face our own unmet expectations, and find that Jesus invites us to look, not at what Jesus is not doing, but to look at what Jesus is doing.

I’m not sure what that means, but Pay No Toll said something like that in a sermon a few years ago and I liked it. . .

Well - I expect that the Good News lies in here somewhere, and that we are getting to the part of the December rush that folks are quite ready to hear it. Good News that must be spoken in the face of the sad news of our realities. 

In this Officially Merry Month of the Officially Optimistic Society - perhaps the Good News can best be heard when we admit to, and face our disappointment. 

Seeing that the disappointment Jesus causes leads to the cross. A fitting end for such a disappointing Messiah, we might well, also see that while the disappointment is quite shocking in its depth, it is not the end of the story. 

Hope - Rhymes with . . .

Matthew 3:1-12

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, 

"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

`Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’"

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, `We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

"I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

On the sermon brainwave podcast - Rolf Jacobson makes a great point. “What is John the Baptist doing in Advent?”  Anyone who can find a way to banish John the Baptist from any part of the lectionary is a friend of mine. . . 

He goes on to suggest that he would preach from the last verse of the Romans text - “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

That appeals to me. Preach on hope. 

Heck, some folks get elected to office on “hope.” 

(Lot of good that does ‘em.) 

I told Pay No Toll that this text from Romans was calling to me for this Sunday, he sort of wondered HOW one could preach on that. 

I can’t recall what he said exactly. I just remember that his questioning the practicality of preaching on that text sort of blew my whole sermon idea out of the water. Seemed to him a bit like trying to preach on a motto.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

While it wouldn’t fit on a refrigerator magnet, it does seem sort of slogan-ish I guess.

What seemed interesting about Jacobson’s suggestion, I suspect, is that I would like to have hope. And hope seems in short supply. And hope seems to be . . . sort of Adventy - while at the same time (if you really think about hope and not some pathological sort of optimism - “I just know this Titanic is going to right itself and float on home”) - sort of Adventy and counter cultural.

Maybe that is one thing one could say about John the Baptist throughout the ages. This guy is one counter-cultural dude. The camel’s hair/leather belt thing, that might be in style at times, but NO ONE is doing the locusts and wild honey diet. No one.

Folks may go down to listen to him, might be baptized by him, but they’re not sticking around for dinner. “We’ll hit the Subway on the way back to Jerusalem.” 

And so - what the heck is John the Baptist doing in our Advent preparation for the coming of Jesus?

Inspiring hope?

I wonder at the call to repent. 

Question: What might inpire repentance? 

Answer:

a. Sorrow for sin? 

b. Fear of punishment? 

c. Hope in God’s promised future?

While a and b might be correct answers for the test, c seems the most life giving, doesn’t it?

I read a sermon by Pay No Toll. 

He asked this question: “Dare we hope?”

And he worked with the Isaiah text and visited with John’s call to repentance in such a way, that - - - call me crazy - - - I was moved to see the call to repentance itself as a call to hope.

Finally - let me suggest that our hope is - ever and always - grounded in the resurrection. 

I’ll close this rambling bunch of non-directional meandering with a few lines of PNT’s sermon

Dare we hope?

It is safer not to lay ourselves out there. To dare is to have enough courage or audacity for something. It is to venture, to take a chance, to be fearless. But such daring can also seem like foolishness. It can seem unwise or even dangerous. The teachings of this Jesus can often strike us like this. We instinctively sense the danger, say, in loving the enemy, or not worrying about what we will eat or wear, or forgiving someone who has wronged us, or living already a future of peace when the world right now seems so filled with fear and hate.

The danger is as obvious as the bread we break and the cup we share. Blood was shed. A body broken. Jesus himself lived a future before its time and the violent world put a violent end to his rash experiment. Isn’t his cross a reminder of what happens when God’s future gets lived too early? What possibly could propel someone to take up the cross and follow? I might prefer to wait and see, but God’s future won’t let me alone. When I take and eat, I taste the wine of God’s new day.

WHERE? HERE? WHEN? THEN?

Matthew 24:36–44

But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

I saved a BC cartoon from years and years ago.

The baseball coach is talking to a glum looking guy who's holding a bat, and says:

“Son, you’ll never get a hit with such a negative attitude”

The next frame - everything goes black, you just see two sets of eyes, one surprised, one glum.

The last frame, the coach says: “What the heck was that?”  and the ballplayer glumly drolls - “Lightning”

I love that cartoon.

Anyone I’ve shared it with, however, looks at me - (glumly) - and wonders what’s wrong with me.

It seems to me that when I read a text like this, 
“But about that day and hour no one knows” 

I get caught up in the threatening nature of it. “One taken, one left.” 

I begin to worry “Who will be taken?” “Where will they go?” “What will happen to them?” “How can I not be taken?” 

Further, I worry at all the knot-headed ways this text is read by the You-Know-Who’s out there. . . (I digress)

Might we find in this text a call to wakefulness - a call, not to fear, but to delight in the gift of life?

Three years ago, the Vicar of Vice led us off with a reflection that caused me to think about this in this way.

Be awake for his appearance!

I might add this as well.

Take note of this one detail. . . 

He is already here!!!!

Ironic, isn’t it?

Luke 23:33-43

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!" The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!" There was also an inscription over him, "This is the King of the Jews." One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." He replied, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."

Here’s a question.

Why is it that irony is the best vehicle for communicating the Gospel?

The best.

Why is it, that this is so elusive to so many?

Evidence That Demands a Verdict was the title of a book when I was young. What is it now? The Case for Faith. There’s irony for you, make such a case, that by the time you're done, that faith won’t be necessary. You’ll know. 

The blessed rage for certitude. . . 

Just started reading The Promise of Despair: The Way of the Cross as the Way of the Church  by Andrew Root. Looks. . . promising. My wonderful wife saw the title of the book - only the main part, “The Promise of Despair” and suggested that it didn’t sound real uplifting.

Yup.

Looking back on what I’ve preached on this text before, I was interested to see a sermon just a few months after the attacks of 9/11. 

I don’t know how that sermon went. I tried to wonder with the congregation at irony and the Gospel. 

It seems so long ago, but post nine-one-one some suggested that in light of the heroism we witnessed, that cynicism would be dead. 

. . . I have to say it, I can’t help myself. . .

“Yeah, right.”

here’s part of my sermon 

I heard an essay on public radio the other day that I thought was striking. The man said that although irony was supposed to be dead now, he kind of doubted that. This writer, whose tools are words, ironically went on equating irony with cynicism without knowing the difference between the two. 

I suspect that cynicism arises out of the realities that one faces in our world. We see, over & over, that people, even when they do good things, are often motivated by greed & selfishness. When somebody says “this is going to hurt me as much as its going to hurt you” probably they are simply overestimating their pain, & underestimating yours. We learn, that when one says “it’s the principle that matters” we ought to look carefully at their motives, & wonder what it is that really matters. And when someone says: “it’s not about the money. . .” well, you can finish that one for me. There is the outrageous line by Lily Tomlin that goes like this: “No matter how cynical I get, I can’t keep up.”

...often we assume that the only alternative is a naive optimism. 

. . . As one famous philosophical notion put it:“this is the best of all possible worlds.” Yet, finally, we know that such an attitude won’t hold up. It will be dashed by the sad realities of the world around us. And so, we are quickly falling back into the cynicism that was declared dead just a few months ago. 

The Gospel gives us another way to approach & understand our world. That is the irony of the cross. Not cynicism, not naive optimism, but the strange working of God, who turns everything on its head, & brings about the unexpected.

How can the irony of the gospel work its ironic transformation when we mistake irony for cynicism, and cynicism for being hip? When we mistake an insane positivism for optimism, and an accurate assessment of our finitude as some sort of defeatist attitude?

Christ the King Sunday seems to me to be an orientation day. Yes, we’re about to finish off the liturgical year, but this day seems more aptly celebrated when we use it to re-calibrate our vision for the coming celebration of the appearance of our Savior King. 

It seems to me that Christ the King Sunday invites us to clearly proclaim the irony of God’s King. 

King of the Jews, and King of Pilate and everyone else in the story. 

King of you and me. And all the world. 

King of kings and . . . King of Pain.

How can the baby in the manger ever be considered cute? 

Hearing our Gospel for this Sunday, one might well wonder at how one could trivialize this journey that follows the road to this cross? This journey that leads to this King’s proclamation: "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." 

Maybe we can - one more time - proclaim this one who loves and forgives and suffers and dies as our King.

Not that anyone will believe it.

Yet finally, it is the only way. 

It is all we have. 

How is it, that THIS story, is the most life affirming story you’ve ever heard?

THE

MOST

LIFE

AFFIRMING 

EVER

Ironic, isn’t it?

Who Gets It In the End?

Luke 21:5–19

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” 7 They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8 And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. 9 “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10 Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12 “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

I got an interesting mailing a couple weeks ago. The world is going to end on May 21st, 2011. 

One week before my wedding anniversary. 

Nice to know that the pressure’s off for buying a fitting anniversary present. 

I can’t remember seeing such a specific date for the end. I guess I just wasn’t paying attention to the right things. . . maybe took the wrong biblical exegesis classes. . . maybe paid too much attention to that “. . . about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” sort of text. Or should I say texts. I can imagine that ignoring those warnings - warnings sounded forth in Matthew, Mark and Luke - might give rise to all sorts of fun.

Back to this though.

I read a text like this, and I think to myself, “we’re doing some stewardship stuff this time of year, lets leave the lectionary for a week or so.” And this is what we’re doing. Not only that, I’m leaving town, and having someone else preach on Stewardship. 

It crosses my mind to suggest, that this text invites stewardship of the Gospel, and an assurance that rests solely on God.

“When you hear of these things, when these things take place, you will always be under my care. Do not worry. Not a hair of your head will perish.” It is interesting how apocalyptic texts are so dark dark dark, and yet hopeful.

I wonder if hope that is declared in the face of tragedy might ring more true than the hope that is declared - suggesting that one can skirt around all troubles.

I’m just glad I’m not preaching Sunday. 

Looking back three years ago, I offered this in response to a nice opening by the Vicar of Vice:

I wonder at how we see the future. 

As threat? 

As opportunity? 

As a chance to buy something really nice?

Does the Gospel invite us to speak of the future in terms of promise - calling us to a vision that is somehow different than how we tend to look at (as well as "look to") the future?

P B’ment then made a comment that makes me wish I had thought to say this; and so I will,   

I think that our talking about the apocalyptic needs to move us to ethical living. Because not a hair on our head will perish we can live self-lessly for the neighbor.

That dog, as the saying goes, will hunt.

But he’s a little bit . . . under trained . . .  and I’m just not sure I can get him into the truck, much less get out to the fields, what with all I have to do between now and then.

Did I mention that I don’t have to preach this Sunday?

I will try harder, the rest of the week, to not gloat about that fact.

Or maybe I won't.

Saints My Eye!!

Luke 6:20–31

²⁰Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
²¹"Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
²²Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. ²³Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
²⁴"But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.
²⁵"Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.
"Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.
²⁶Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
²⁷But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, ²⁸bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. ²⁹If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. ³⁰Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. ³¹Do to others as you would have them do to you.

I wonder at this All Saints Day stuff. 

Where are these Saints, anyhow? Surely not in my congregation. 

Perhaps its a bit cliche to suggest that the Saints don't always look so saintly. . . 

but still, its true.

And so, I suspect, that as much as I don't think so, I think a preacher may need to remind the hearers of their saintliness. 

They won't believe it, and frankly, many of them shouldn't.

It was interesting - in workingpreacher last week, and I think on the podcast this week, were the comments - "Preach the text, not the day." 

Well.

Shall we ignore the day?

Won't the day shape our reading?

SHOULDN'T the day shape our reading, since the sermon will take place that day? And . . . 

Perhaps I'm just crabby because the lectionary committee gives us such crummy texts for All Saints Day.

I have to admit, that right now, I can't imagine what would be better. But something must be better. 

The blessedness of the blessed lies in most unexpected places, doesn't it? Makes me think of Mary - and Luther's reflection on the Magnificat - that what God "regards" in Mary - what he looks upon when he blesses her with the calling to bear the Christ Child - is her lowliness.

It is interesting to me that we have these two festivals in succession. Reformation and All Saints. 

The blessedness is given by God. It is announced by Jesus.

That's my Reformation reading.

I don't think this is especially fitting the texts, but I can probably wedge it in.

I have 3 kids receiving their First Communion on Sunday. . . 

I'm thinking of following a preaching path in which I speak about the disciplines of piety.
I know its a bit of a dicey path. Hard to speak of things we might do, without prescribing them as necessary, or somehow meritorious - not that anyone would use the term merit today.

I think I saw Stoffregen once ask - "What is it that Christians do that is unique to them?" 

And his answer was that Christians get together weekly, and have bread and wine and know God to be present in that simple meal. We might well add that it is unique to us, that we see that something that is done for the least of these our brothers and sisters, is done for Jesus.

There might be something to that. . . that a saints day sort of festival might invite us to ask who we are, and in light of this text, where Jesus announces the poor, the hungry, the weeping, the hated, blessed, that we might speak of how this meal- this announcement - this Lord to whom we belong - shapes the lives we lead.

Not that, hearing this, my congregation will look any more saintly on November 14th when we gather again. . . 

This Confirms It - Let's Reform

John 8:31-36

Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; 32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” 33 They answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?” 34 Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. 35 The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. 36 So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

Reformation Sunday!!!

I do Confirmation on this Sunday. 

Unlike some of you, I don’t have the kids preach the sermon at their Confirmation service.

I do this because:

1. I’m afraid of what they’d say, and how it would reflect on the fact that their Confirmation instruction was supbar.

2. I don’t want to give up the center stage attention.

3. I don’t want to have to sit through whatever lame thing they’d prepare.

4. All of the above.

Here’s some stuff, based off what I blogged a couple 3 years ago for this text.

Sometimes I will read stuff by this or that guy (almost always a guy) and he will be saying something about how “the Church NEEDS to go through another reformation!”

There are often 2 things that attend that call for reformation

1. They have a specific idea of exactly how that reformation needs to take place - and the attendant wrong-ness of the Church as is.

2. They irritate the crap out of me.

I suspect that - as often as not - it is the certitude (and often self righteousness) that goes with this that annoys me.

But is there not also a part of me that wants to respond...

“We are heirs of Martin Luther! Heirs of THE Reformation! Reformation is our middle name. I don’t need a new anything, (unless it is a new pair of shoes)”

or some variation.

I’m not sure what any of that means but there ya go

One more thing. Why do a good many of the folks who talk about Christian freedom give me the willies? (not to use anyone's name in vain!)
Sort of interesting, considering our parable for last week, isn't it?

Trapped Like Mice - Rats

Luke 18:9-14

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted."

There are no two ways about it. 

This parable is a trap!

A trap I tell you. 

That starts with T and rhymes with C and . . . 

(time to stop this dumb line of - - - whatever. crap?)

This parable clearly is a trap. 

I think of the line by Bilbo Baggins in The Fellowship of the Ring, which, if I recall correctly, is a part of his farewell speech before he disappears from the Shire:

I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve.

It takes a while for the people to realize that this “toast” might well be an insult.

I wonder at this parable. 

Yes, it is a trap. 

I liked the work that thehardestquestion.org guy did with that aspect of it. . . 

He calls it the Parable Trap, and he asks this as the hardest question

“Is the Pharisee’s self-justification built on the Law or his comparison to others?”

yup.

Many take this text and reflect on humility. 

Capon does a nice job in his sermon, and he says, it is not about humility, rather, the Pharisee making the error of trusting in his own abilities and not trusting in God alone.

yup

All this is so. 

Yet, I have found a couple folks who address what Luke might be suggesting is central - more than others do. And that is the introductory line: Jesus  

told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt:

- And here I thought he told it so we would be more humble. 

I wonder if Luke’s introducing of the parable in this way doesn’t “double down” on the trap thing.

It seems, that in one way or another, it is possible to take a couple different wrong turns in this maze of a text.

For instance, in a pretty well done piece on this text, at goodpreacher.com, Joerg Rieger (I think - its not clear who the author is) starts by saying that “At first sight, the theological meaning of this story seems clear: do not boast about your accomplishments, admit that nobody is perfect and everything will be fine.”

But then, he says, we might ask what it might mean to confess your sin. . . and from there he goes to the connection between righteousness, justification and justice. And then he concludes that “In the end, both Pharisee and tax collector need to develop a more robust understanding of their sinfulness in order join God’s alternative justice.”

yup

But - rather than being moved to take note of the tax collector in his humanness. Rather than being moved to not hold others in contempt, we’ve gone and tried to solve all the problems of world hunger, and begun on the path to alternative forms of energy production.

I digress.

But I think that it may well be easy to follow interpretive paths that cause us to digress. . . cause us to speak of our humility - our righteousness - our justification - and to not address our desire to hold others in contempt. I suspect that Rathbun’s hardest question gets at this some. .  .

Loader - in his Australian way of spelling, says of the Pharisee, that the Pharisee, in his righteousness, and in his differentiating himself over and against the tax collector . . . 

Love of God has become separated from love of neighbour. . .

he goes on to say

The answer is not to pretend the toll collector has done no wrong, but to accept our common humanity & to know that our real value is in loving & accepting ourselves as God loves us & not upping our value by downing others. The toll collector is also a person of worth. We can forget trying to earn credit points w/ God & establishing our worth on a relative scale. When we do so we will have so much more time & space & energy for compassion, both receiving & giving it. ‘Pharisees’ need it - as much as toll collectors.

Roberta Bondi has a nice piece titled: Sin of Scorn says:

 we too live in a world of scorching, escalating, judgmental scorn - our own & others’ - that is grinding us all down to the bone. As Christians, how can we ever escape it? Perhaps we need not so much to quit bragging about our goodness & admit that we are sinners, as to give up the whole question of whether any of us are sinners. (I suspect that if I can acknowledge & learn to thank God when I am able to do something good, I will not have to demonstrate my worth to myself by despising those whose lives look very different from mine.)

"There is no other sin than that of being scornful," one of the desert Abbas used to say. As Dorotheos  [some desert Father] suggests, allowing ourselves to experience gratitude to God for the good we can do may truly provide some healing for our scornful souls.

Let me conclude by saying that it is true I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve.

Heal Me - - - or Go Twins!!!!!

Luke 17:11-19

On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" When he saw them, he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, "Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."

I need healing

I need it badly

and why is that?

because I am a fan of the Twins

and the Twins are playing the effing Yankees.

And they have lost the first game of this five game playoff

And this inspires me to want to write lament psalms, 

and then perhaps work on some imprecatory psalms as well

and then personally recite those imprecatory psalms to the corpse of G. Steinbrenner. 

I’d rather the Twins lost to Brigham Young Junior College.

I’d rather they lost to the Duke University basketball team and coach K.  (that might be overstating it. . . )

When the Broncos made it to the Super Bowl, Pay No Toll showed a measure of resignation that was alarming. 

“They’ll find a way to lose this one too;” was his lament.

Preparing for the worst, he lowered his expectations.

Then they won. 

Which turned out to be small consolation. . . 

I need healing. . . 

I have had some pastoral conversations with some people in the last few days that cause me to wonder at how I could ever become so consumed with the little inconveniences that I face.

THEY NEED HEALING. I'd just like this little diversion to go my way.

Odd,  I truly am consumed with angst about the Twins.

I truly am caught up with an emotion towards a gol darn baseball club from some large city to the East of me.

I need healing.

This world needs healing.

If we were to receive it, would we know enough to be grateful? 

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

Luke 17:5–10

The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" The Lord replied, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table'? Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!'"

Had I made an entry last week - this is what I would have titled it: Stupid is as stupid does.

Which I don't understand, but it leads to this.

In a way, can't we say that Faith is as faith does... ?

Not in a "works righteousness" sort of way of course.

But I am almost willing to walk this tight rope on this text

One also must include verse 4

“if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.”

This story compels us to take note, that God's community of faith is called to reach out with God's love. If we are not a community of forgiveness and grace, I wonder at how we can accomplish that. 

A Sad Story

Luke 16:19–31

There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 He called out, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' 25 But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.' 27 He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house — 28 for I have five brothers — that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.' 29 Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.' 30 He said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' 31 He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

A Chasm - •A deep, steep-sided rift, gap or fissure; a gorge or abyss; A large difference between people • en.wiktionary

Dressed in purple, eating well, life is good. . . 

One thing I don’t do much, is think about the afterlife.

Is this story more than simply a tale of the great reversal?

“They’ll get theirs.” “What goes around comes around.”

Perhaps so.

I think of the Phil Collins song, Another Day in Paradise. 

In reflecting on this three years ago here on doless, we had a rich conversation, spurred by PNT noting that this parable causes a response of sadness. 

This is sad. 

Reading the parable today, I was struck by this line, 

'. . . between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.' 

Who might WANT to cross from Abraham’s bosom to the place of torment?

Only one with an abiding sense of compassion. 

Something clearly lacking in the rich man. 

He just doesn’t get it, does he?

My 7th grader came home and mentioned a song one of their teachers performed at a school assembly. “Don’t Laugh At Me.” It calls for folks not to bully one another. It has a verse that suggests that the guy with the “will work for food” sign has a back story that might make us sorry to be judgmental of him.

But - what if he’s a freeloading slug?

Same difference really. But I digress.

The song is on youtube, and many comments in the comments section below were sad. Some sadly reflecting on their experience of bullying. Some sadly wishing suffering upon those who inflict bullying, and some - so very oddly - perpetuating the bullying.

I wonder at our prosperity. It insulates us from the suffering of others, doesn’t it? Also, I suspect that we want to be insulated from that. We don’t want to know, and the better off we are, the better we can not know and the more readily we might feel some responsibility toward those in need, a responsibility that would cost us more than we care to admit.

I mention the afterlife aspect of this parable, but I doubt it is really about that. It seems that it is about compassion. The afterlife question might be helpful to understanding here, or it might be another tactic to keep at arms length the discomfort caused by the vast chasm between the rich and the poor.

We might want to posit that the rich man was especially sinful. But what if he was just too busy going to banquets to ever really be that bad? What if he was a big supporter of the Jerusalem Symphony, and he gave generously to build the new gym at the Y?

I think this is one of those weeks where another lesson bears an insight that can be key to interpretation.

They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life. I Tim 6:18-19

What life is the life that really is life? In ways, I suspect that the parable addresses this very question. The cluelessness of the rich man in Hades simply mirrors his cluelessness on earth. 

That gate that shut out Lazarus was misused. It was there, not to keep him out, but as a place from which to exercise hospitality and caring. The gates of the kingdom have been opened for you, so that from there, you might exercise hospitality, God's hospitality shown for you and for all.

And yet, there is fixed, a great chasm.

I think of the Bethel Bible Series illustration. The arms of a cross are sitting on the ground, with the bottom of the cross extending down into a gorge. Thus the cross bridges the gorge. A man is clinging to the arm of a cross, hanging there for dear life. Is it not true that this is what the cross does? The cross bridges the chasm.

The chasm between us and one another. The chasm between us and God’s own self. The chasm between righteousness and whatever it is that we are right now. The chasms that are disguised as life, and, in the end, prove to be deep traps that bring things crashing down upon us all. The chasm between life and death.

Quite a parable. Mary Hinkle Shore called this a New Testament Text of Terror. 

In the midst of these chasms - this deep thinking - there rises one like the son of man. 

Quite a parable.

Maybe it is about resurrection.

What Do You Make of This? Or What Does It Make of You?

Luke 16:1-13

Then Jesus said to the disciples, "There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. 2 So he summoned him and said to him, 'What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.' 3 Then the manager said to himself, 'What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. 4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.' 5 So, summoning his master's debtors one by one, he asked the first, 'How much do you owe my master?' 6 He answered, 'A hundred jugs of olive oil.' He said to him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.' 7 Then he asked another, 'And how much do you owe?' He replied, 'A hundred containers of wheat.' He said to him, 'Take your bill and make it eighty.' 8 And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. 9 And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes. 10 "Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. 11 If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? 12 And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? 13 No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”

You know, Oh Great DoLessHarmers, we had a pretty good discussion of this text 3 years ago on this very blog. 

smokeythebear had the opening entry; (Though I think it was just P-b-ment posing as a cuddly furry critter) and titled it Shrewd Discipleship. Smokey the Basement quoted from the Message, where Peterson uses a nice turn of phrase, to suggest that this parable invites us to “creative survival” - and to living lives that are more than just getting by “on good behavior.”

Nice.

A couple insights from the sermon brainwave podcast - 

Skinner’s deal that money is powerful, and don’t be naive about it. . . And Jacobson’s notion that this parable gives a chance to talk about money, without asking for money. He points to Mark Allan Powell’s idea that a big part of the biblical teaching about money, is how you regard money.

ok - in fact, I am beginning to think that I’m going to take their advice about that, and talk a bit about that. 

Yet - it seems to me, that one really ought to deal with the scandal here. 

This is a parable that Augustine said he couldn’t believe Jesus actually told. . . 

I don’t know where I first ran across this, but I used it in a sermon, so it must be true:

“St. Augustine said "I can't believe that this story came from the lips of our Lord." “

In one sermon I saw that used this line of Augustine’s, - a line many brilliant preachers have used - she says, toward the end:    
“I wish I could work out all the puzzles of this parable - when all is said and done, I still find it very confusing!”

Well, heck. Is that what you’re supposed to do with it? Work out all the puzzles? 

I sorta doubt it. I think this story is supposed to work on you. The quesiton is what work the Holy Spirit has in mind for you with this Word. 

. . . but I digress

In my favorite book on parables, Hear Then the Parable, Bernard Brandon Scott says that this parable unmoores us by “challenging the way justice works in the world.” He says that it “breaks the bond between power and justice. Instead it equates justice and vulverability.” (266) 

That’ll preach. 

NOT.

Sarah Dylan Breuer who blogs at sarahlaughed.net - focuses on forgiveness. 

In a sermon - I used this construct that she proposes:

Now, we might do well to take note of what kind of situation this manager is managing. 

A very very rich man enjoys his fabulous wealth far off in the city of Jerusalem. His land is being worked by the peasants, and while he’s partying in the city, he has a manager take care of his affairs out there in the country. The peasants are working land that used to belong to their grandparents. But, they lost the land in payment of some debt. Speaking of debt, things work out such that the people are paying rent that puts them further and further behind.

The landowner gets word that his manager is squandering his property, and so, he sets out to fire him. While on his way, the manager, having gotten word of this, moves quickly. He calls the farmers to come to his office, and he reduces their debts. Perhaps he even makes it possible for them to get out from under their heavy burdens. 

The people, of course, are elated. They are glad when the Steward tells them of the reduction of their debt, and grateful to him, but all the more, not knowing that the Steward is acting on his own, they are grateful to the landowner for reducing their burden. When he arrives to fire the manager, the people have gathered together to thank him for his great generosity with a grand parade!

Here’s the great rub. What can the Rich Man do? He can tell everyone that they don’t need to thank him. . . the parade is over, they still owe all that money. . . or, he can take in the honor the people have bestowed on him, thanks to the Shrewd Manager.

This is, in Jesus’ strange way, a story about forgiveness. Extravagant, dangerous, outrageous, forgiveness. Forgiveness, in fact, that might set us on edge. This is forgiveness that seems extremely cavalier, and maybe a bit crazy. The next verse tells us that the Pharisees, hearing this, ridiculed Jesus.

That - I think - WILL preach. 

I have a notion that this is one of those texts where we might want to take the time to note, that in reading scripture, the point isn’t to discern “what it means” but to engage the Word for what it does. 

What does this do to you? 

That is the question.

And what it does, as Scott suggests, is unmoores us. This is a story that betrays a downright strange inclination toward mercy. Word & World had an issue devoted to the theme; “Is Forgiveness Enough” and the opening article is by Forde. The title, I would suggest, says it all: “Is Forgiveness Enough: Reflections on an Odd Question.”

One might well suggest, that the response to Jesus after a story like this might well be - “Is there no limit to forgiveness?”

Maybe that’s the question; of this text, and of this life. . .