* Read Matthew 16:13-20
Over the last several years I’ve been particularly interested in reading the writings of authors from the “Historical Jesus” movement; Marcus Borg, Stephen Patterson, John Shelby Spong, and John Crossan, to name a few. For those of you not familiar with the movement, it is basically an empirical exercise in constructing a picture of Jesus solely as a man, and setting aside all narrative in the gospels that depict him as divine. Now this might seem heretical at first, but I’ve had the pleasure of meeting several great writers and speakers engaged in this process, and am constantly amazed at their commitment to accuracy and seach for a real Christianity. They are good, loving and committed Christians who sustain their faith journeys by engaging in deep theological thinking. Seminary often teaches you the skills to do this. Perhaps that’s where the saying originated; seminary will ruin a good preacher. But I must admit, that after several years of engaging in this process for myself, I also came to realize that focusing on only the humanity of Jesus had not lessened my desire to unravel the mysteries of his divinity.
Todays gospel text is one such narrative that I can not easily dismiss. For the gospels record several very pointed, poignant, and powerful questions that Jesus candidly asked those around him. Perhaps the question Jesus asks of Peter in today’s text is the one that intrigues me the most; “Who do you say that I am?” For the Christian, every day we are on this earth is an attempt to answer this question. And how we answer it shows just what place Jesus holds in our lives. That fact is, we have all stood in Peter’s shoes before, and answered that question one way, but revealed our true feelings on the topic with a completely different behavior.
I use to go to my Grandmother’s house for lunch on Sundays, and without fail she has her TV turned to Trinity Broadcasting Network where an evangelist is preaching to an enormous crowd. Growing up Pentecostal I’ve developed a litmus test for “tuning out” these preachers; the louder they scream, the less I listen to them. Sometimes I really doubt whether they really understand the good news of Jesus. Could you imagine Jesus preaching like one of these guys? And you don’t have to be loud and obnoxious to turn the gospel into a message of hate.
In this text, one minute Peter proclaims that Jesus is the messiah, the very Son of God, and the next minute, as we will see next week, he is pulling Jesus aside to tell him just how to act like the messiah. And don’t we do the same? We proclaim Jesus as our messiah in one breath and in the next we are telling Jesus how to save the world. How do we know the real Jesus? There are so many people in history who are mysterious. Who was the real Abraham Lincoln? Do we ever understand a Richard Nixon? For that matter, do we really understand our spouses or our children? I’m not sure I even understand myself. Can we really attempt to know the reality of Jesus, or is it possible to let Jesus speak for himself?
Since I’ve graduated I’ve had to let go of the quest to know the real historical Jesus. Just as the Dalai Lama says there are many paths to the Buddha, there must be many paths to Jesus, but there are some stumbling blocks along the way. The biggest stumbling block for Peter, and for us as well, is that the messiah will end up on a cross. The cross of Christ simply isn’t very user friendly. Being crucified is not the upwardly mobile, successful, self-loving and prudent thing to do in our society. There are no trophies, no book deals, after the cross. The only crown is made of thorns. Why is the cross so central, so necessary to understanding Jesus? Why can’t we just take some of his teachings like the Beatitudes or the Golden Rule and skip the cross. It would be easier, and much more marketable.
But this question that Jesus raises in the text is an important one. In fact it is a vital question for each one of us, designed to put us on the spot and keep us honest. But it is a dangerous question, because it cuts right to the existential core of our revelation of God—and whether Jesus is our response to that revelation.
But before we begin to answer that question for ourselves, I’m interested in why Jesus asked it at all? Why then, at that time and place? According to Matthew the question was first posed to the disciples at the city of Caesarea Philippi. It was a major city north of Galilee near the border of Syria, built by Herod Philip in honour of the emperor Augustus. In ancient times, it had been called Paneas in honour of the god Pan, who had a shrine there. And before that the god Baal had been worshipped there, too. And before that, well, who knows. When Jesus and his disciples visited, there was a shrine for the emperor cult. In other words, it was a place where many of the gods who walk the earth made great claims for themselves and where other people made claims for them, too. This is the setting, according to Matthew, where what happened – happened.
It’s pretty much the same with many people today. People still wonder about him. I wonder about him. Who do people say that he is? Well, I’ve asked a lot of people over the years and gotten a lot of answers. Some say a great moral and political leader like Gandhi or Martin Luther King, Jr. Some say a great prophet like Mohammed. Still others say a great spiritual teacher to be numbered with the likes of the Buddha, Confucius, Lao-tzu, or the Dalai Lama.
Some say he was a political revolutionary and enlist him in their cause. Some say he was a capitalist and do the same. There was actually a best selling book several years ago entitled Jesus-CEO. There are those who say he was clearly a socialist, and others who are just as sure that he was a liberal Democrat. These days, many Republicans eagerly claim him as one of their own. Still others say he was but a dreamy idealist with his head in the clouds. Others wonder if he was a real man at all, with a real history, or if he was just a made-up man, the product of human hope, need, and projection.
It’s all very interesting—if sometimes confusing—but it does matter what you think. But the fact is; what you believe about Jesus affects your entire worldview. If you suddenly see Jesus differently, everything changes. Jesus' question, “Who do you say that I am?” is an invitation to take personally and seriously the possibility that maybe we need to see him differently. It is an invitation, to venture beyond the iconic Christs of our popular culture, beyond our church hierarchies, and academic scholarship, and allow ourselves to be confronted by the iconoclastic Jesus of Nazareth; a Jesus with no identifiable face, no particular ethnicity, no specific cultural allegiance. A Jesus who is not of this world.
Jesus’ question is an invitation to take personally and seriously the necessity to stop taking refuge in the answers of others and answer for ourselves. It is an invitation to stand as existentially naked as we are able before the one in whom our existence takes on new meaning.
“Who do you say that I am?” Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” Jesus answered, “Blessed are you…. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” It was a self-defining moment for Peter. Through the grace of God he had discovered himself in the presence of the one who disclosed God and revealed the Way of God—the way of love and justice. He spent the rest of his life figuring out what that meant for who he was and how he lived.
“Who do you say that I am?” Naturally, we have to answer for ourselves, and our answers will disclose as much about us as they do about him. My answer? Jesus is the one in whom I am loved, and called to love. Jesus is not a crucified savior, but a living Christ. A Christ living in you, and living in me. My journey of life is about figuring out what that means for who I am and how I live. Who do you say Jesus is?
(Special thanks to some wonderful excerpts from Barry J. Robinson’s sermon “Keeping Quiet About Jesus” for August 21, 2005 – www.fernstone.org, and Daniel B. Clendenin’s essay on “Who Do You Say That I Am?" for August 21, 2005 - www.journeywithjesus.net/index.shtml)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Goin' to the Dogs
*Read Matthew 15:21-28
While I was growing up, my family had a pet dog named Barney. He was a stray we found resting under an old abandoned tractor on the farm where we often went to buy fresh vegetables in the summer. Barney was our most favorite pet. With predominant beagle DNA in his blood, he was a gentle, fun-loving pet that could entertain us for hours in the backyard, endearing us with his fog-horn like howl and his droopy ears and sad puppy dog eyes. But Mom was very firm with her restrictions. Barney had to stay outside during the day. He could not eat table scraps, and he must be walked and washed on a regular basis. After it became evident that Barney suffered from epilepsy, a disease common to many mixed breeds, he was allowed into the house more frequently later in his life; but she was firm on the rule that he could not be fed from the table.
Such began the relationship with my purebred beagle, BJ, short for Barney Junior. She was a gift to my partner on his 35th birthday. And even though her cute puppy looks could melt the iciest heart, we stood firm with the rules. No table scraps, no begging at meals. But BJ knew just what slight degree the rules could be bent; and so before dinner was ready each evening she would take her place right at our feet when dinner was served. A good place to stretch one direction or another to grab whatever stray crumb might fall during the meal!
Then as time went by, the table rules got bent a little more. She was so much a part of us, more and more not just a domestic breed. She understood our speech and we came to understand her much fuller vocabulary of whimper, posture, body language, claw, touch, nudge, stare, ear twitch. And so at breakfast each morning, BJ eventually got a bit of toast and at the end of dinner, a choice bite of meat saved for her from my own plate. If I lingered too long before offering it, I would notice a chin delicately laid on my knee—just a reminder.
She lived heartily for six years, and then suddenly her kidneys began to fail long before she had ever come near old age. Months later, when she lost her appetite for the dog food she had always relished, the rules became irrelevant. Mealtime became an inventory of the refrigerator. Whatever she would eat, she could have: bread, steak, chicken and rice, and dog biscuits at any time of day. When she became too tired to bend and eat from her dish on the floor, then she got it from our hands. And when nothing else appealed any more, we nourished her from an IV. We were determined that she would live if we just kept on trying.
Missing her as we do, I look back now over the six years since her death and realize what happened: gradually she changed my mind about the restrictions we imposed on the way she was fed, and our "table rules" were slowly dissolved and eventually eliminated.
It was another "dog" who changed Jesus’ mind as well. As one of the earliest inhabitants of the pagan region of Tyre and Sidon, the Canaanite was known to be the worst of the lot, a long-hardened pagan, a longtime enemy. And this one, the disciples saw as a real cur: A woman—and an unescorted woman at that, a woman whose undoubtedly shady past must surely have caused the demonic possession in the family; a woman brazen enough to initiate conversation with a man.
Jesus is silent in the face of her. The disciples, however, just wanted to get rid of her, they urge, "Do what she wants, so she’ll get out of our hair." But Jesus responds, "No; I wasn’t sent for her." Then, this "dog" who is satisfied just to be under the table proceeds to change his heart. She is not beholden to the "official rules" or even to Jesus’ understanding of his own vocation, but insists that she and her daughter have a right to healing. She doggedly reminds Jesus that he is not after all servant of the "official religion" or of biblical tradition, but of an uncontrollable Spirit who blows where she will blow, touches whom she will touch, beckons whom she will beckon, heals whom she will heal.
The Jesus we meet before this incident shows partiality to his own people, distinguishes between insiders and outsiders. This Jesus is a problem, if your theology demands perfection in a savior. I too have wrestled with him: precisely because of what He taught us, I shudder at his initial responses. But you know something? In the end, this incident endears him to me more. Here is no brittle, paper-doll Messiah, but one challenged as we are: one who shares our condition and is not ashamed to correct himself. Because just then, Jesus remembers who he is. He comes back to himself in a new way. He admits, as if it were the most natural thing in the world (and of course, it is), that he had been wrong and had his mind changed.
In a sense, it is Jesus’ own awakening that takes him far beyond first-century Palestine’s "honor culture." Jesus does not save face. He is challenged by the woman on his own terms—by her living, pushy faith—to make room for outcast and alien. It’s a profound conversion for him: continue reading in this gospel, and watch how his encounters have a shifted nuance, his stories a new and pronounced bias for the poor and the outsider.
Being a faithful people is all about changing the table rules and getting changed yourself! It’s about who gets to be at the table, and who will be at the table in spite of us; and thereby about the social implications for relations between poor and non-poor, genders, sexual orientations, abilities, pedigrees. It is about a banquet for dogs.
Suddenly the persona of the God enfleshed in Jesus does not only have to do with chosen people. Not only with purebreds—Shelties and Great Danes and German Shorthaired Pointers—but with mongrels. Mutts. Half-breeds and Heinz 57s. The ones that track mud into our sanctuaries and shake pond water all over our doctrine, who hungrily snarf up any little morsel that falls and don’t know how to sit and stay.
The secret we must all discover from outsiders like the Canaanite woman is that if we hold their name up to a mirror, we come face to face with the Holy name. And those we wrote off as "dogs" become revealers of God.
We have five other dogs now, three beagles named Tinker Bell, Riley and Maggie, a Border Collie—German Shepherd mix named Spook, and a feisty Rat Terrier named Buddy. In a lot of ways BJ blazed the way for these puppies; we relentlessly spoil them. And I wonder what it’s like for them to sit at my feet during dinner time. From down there, you can’t see the whole spread, only the rim of a plate, perhaps whatever is lying within a few inches of the edge. It makes you hungry. But with faith, and a good nose, you can imagine the truth: there is more than crumbs there, for a little dog with the temerity to sit close.
As the United Church of Christ we must reach out to members of our community that some may regard as beneath them on the economic ladder of success. Our work with the homeless and low income neighborhoods will bring folks into our church that we might not normally invite into our club. They won’t value our traditions, they won’t idolize our worship space, and they won’t take the gospel at face value. They will be looking for more than crumbs from our table. And we’ll need to be ready to give them the best that we have. It is the kind of thing that must happen to each and every one of us. For even one sharp word or unapproving glance will negate the gospel that we preach. That is not a loving way to live. It is not a truthful way to live either.
We have to turn our priorities around, let go of all our rules, all our contrived distinctions; knowing that what is important is not that they be differentiated from us; but that their lives must be nourished. But we need to turn our criticism onto ourselves. It can be a shock, of course, to realize what we have been doing all along. Our habitual way of camouflaging ourselves has been stripped away. No longer can we make other people responsible for our own shortcomings. We begin to see other people as they really are and ourselves as we really are. We come to our moment of truth the way Jesus came to his.
May the mark of our lives and ministries be this: that we are not too proud to go sit under the table for a bit, listen to the language of the outsider and thereby learn about the feast of the kingdom of God that is to come. Amen.
(Special thanks to some other preachers that helped frame this theology for my experience! Barry J. Robinson’s sermon “Projection Withdrawal” for August 14, 2005 – www.fernstone.org, and Gail Ricciuti’s sermon "God of Mongrels"
from December 2, 2001 - www.csec.org/csec/sermon/ricciuti_4509.htm)
While I was growing up, my family had a pet dog named Barney. He was a stray we found resting under an old abandoned tractor on the farm where we often went to buy fresh vegetables in the summer. Barney was our most favorite pet. With predominant beagle DNA in his blood, he was a gentle, fun-loving pet that could entertain us for hours in the backyard, endearing us with his fog-horn like howl and his droopy ears and sad puppy dog eyes. But Mom was very firm with her restrictions. Barney had to stay outside during the day. He could not eat table scraps, and he must be walked and washed on a regular basis. After it became evident that Barney suffered from epilepsy, a disease common to many mixed breeds, he was allowed into the house more frequently later in his life; but she was firm on the rule that he could not be fed from the table.
Such began the relationship with my purebred beagle, BJ, short for Barney Junior. She was a gift to my partner on his 35th birthday. And even though her cute puppy looks could melt the iciest heart, we stood firm with the rules. No table scraps, no begging at meals. But BJ knew just what slight degree the rules could be bent; and so before dinner was ready each evening she would take her place right at our feet when dinner was served. A good place to stretch one direction or another to grab whatever stray crumb might fall during the meal!
Then as time went by, the table rules got bent a little more. She was so much a part of us, more and more not just a domestic breed. She understood our speech and we came to understand her much fuller vocabulary of whimper, posture, body language, claw, touch, nudge, stare, ear twitch. And so at breakfast each morning, BJ eventually got a bit of toast and at the end of dinner, a choice bite of meat saved for her from my own plate. If I lingered too long before offering it, I would notice a chin delicately laid on my knee—just a reminder.
She lived heartily for six years, and then suddenly her kidneys began to fail long before she had ever come near old age. Months later, when she lost her appetite for the dog food she had always relished, the rules became irrelevant. Mealtime became an inventory of the refrigerator. Whatever she would eat, she could have: bread, steak, chicken and rice, and dog biscuits at any time of day. When she became too tired to bend and eat from her dish on the floor, then she got it from our hands. And when nothing else appealed any more, we nourished her from an IV. We were determined that she would live if we just kept on trying.
Missing her as we do, I look back now over the six years since her death and realize what happened: gradually she changed my mind about the restrictions we imposed on the way she was fed, and our "table rules" were slowly dissolved and eventually eliminated.
It was another "dog" who changed Jesus’ mind as well. As one of the earliest inhabitants of the pagan region of Tyre and Sidon, the Canaanite was known to be the worst of the lot, a long-hardened pagan, a longtime enemy. And this one, the disciples saw as a real cur: A woman—and an unescorted woman at that, a woman whose undoubtedly shady past must surely have caused the demonic possession in the family; a woman brazen enough to initiate conversation with a man.
Jesus is silent in the face of her. The disciples, however, just wanted to get rid of her, they urge, "Do what she wants, so she’ll get out of our hair." But Jesus responds, "No; I wasn’t sent for her." Then, this "dog" who is satisfied just to be under the table proceeds to change his heart. She is not beholden to the "official rules" or even to Jesus’ understanding of his own vocation, but insists that she and her daughter have a right to healing. She doggedly reminds Jesus that he is not after all servant of the "official religion" or of biblical tradition, but of an uncontrollable Spirit who blows where she will blow, touches whom she will touch, beckons whom she will beckon, heals whom she will heal.
The Jesus we meet before this incident shows partiality to his own people, distinguishes between insiders and outsiders. This Jesus is a problem, if your theology demands perfection in a savior. I too have wrestled with him: precisely because of what He taught us, I shudder at his initial responses. But you know something? In the end, this incident endears him to me more. Here is no brittle, paper-doll Messiah, but one challenged as we are: one who shares our condition and is not ashamed to correct himself. Because just then, Jesus remembers who he is. He comes back to himself in a new way. He admits, as if it were the most natural thing in the world (and of course, it is), that he had been wrong and had his mind changed.
In a sense, it is Jesus’ own awakening that takes him far beyond first-century Palestine’s "honor culture." Jesus does not save face. He is challenged by the woman on his own terms—by her living, pushy faith—to make room for outcast and alien. It’s a profound conversion for him: continue reading in this gospel, and watch how his encounters have a shifted nuance, his stories a new and pronounced bias for the poor and the outsider.
Being a faithful people is all about changing the table rules and getting changed yourself! It’s about who gets to be at the table, and who will be at the table in spite of us; and thereby about the social implications for relations between poor and non-poor, genders, sexual orientations, abilities, pedigrees. It is about a banquet for dogs.
Suddenly the persona of the God enfleshed in Jesus does not only have to do with chosen people. Not only with purebreds—Shelties and Great Danes and German Shorthaired Pointers—but with mongrels. Mutts. Half-breeds and Heinz 57s. The ones that track mud into our sanctuaries and shake pond water all over our doctrine, who hungrily snarf up any little morsel that falls and don’t know how to sit and stay.
The secret we must all discover from outsiders like the Canaanite woman is that if we hold their name up to a mirror, we come face to face with the Holy name. And those we wrote off as "dogs" become revealers of God.
We have five other dogs now, three beagles named Tinker Bell, Riley and Maggie, a Border Collie—German Shepherd mix named Spook, and a feisty Rat Terrier named Buddy. In a lot of ways BJ blazed the way for these puppies; we relentlessly spoil them. And I wonder what it’s like for them to sit at my feet during dinner time. From down there, you can’t see the whole spread, only the rim of a plate, perhaps whatever is lying within a few inches of the edge. It makes you hungry. But with faith, and a good nose, you can imagine the truth: there is more than crumbs there, for a little dog with the temerity to sit close.
As the United Church of Christ we must reach out to members of our community that some may regard as beneath them on the economic ladder of success. Our work with the homeless and low income neighborhoods will bring folks into our church that we might not normally invite into our club. They won’t value our traditions, they won’t idolize our worship space, and they won’t take the gospel at face value. They will be looking for more than crumbs from our table. And we’ll need to be ready to give them the best that we have. It is the kind of thing that must happen to each and every one of us. For even one sharp word or unapproving glance will negate the gospel that we preach. That is not a loving way to live. It is not a truthful way to live either.
We have to turn our priorities around, let go of all our rules, all our contrived distinctions; knowing that what is important is not that they be differentiated from us; but that their lives must be nourished. But we need to turn our criticism onto ourselves. It can be a shock, of course, to realize what we have been doing all along. Our habitual way of camouflaging ourselves has been stripped away. No longer can we make other people responsible for our own shortcomings. We begin to see other people as they really are and ourselves as we really are. We come to our moment of truth the way Jesus came to his.
May the mark of our lives and ministries be this: that we are not too proud to go sit under the table for a bit, listen to the language of the outsider and thereby learn about the feast of the kingdom of God that is to come. Amen.
(Special thanks to some other preachers that helped frame this theology for my experience! Barry J. Robinson’s sermon “Projection Withdrawal” for August 14, 2005 – www.fernstone.org, and Gail Ricciuti’s sermon "God of Mongrels"
from December 2, 2001 - www.csec.org/csec/sermon/ricciuti_4509.htm)
Sunday, August 3, 2008
All You Can Eat
*Read Matthew 14:13-21
I have some buffet jokes for you this morning. There was an 85-year-old couple, having been married almost 60 years, found themselves at the Pearly Gates together. They had been in good health the last ten years mainly due to the wife's interest in health food and exercise. So when they reached the gates, St. Peter took them to their mansion, which was decked out with a beautiful kitchen and bathroom suite, with a Jacuzzi. As they "oohed and aahed," the old man asked Peter how much all this was going to cost. "It's free," Peter replied, "this is Heaven."
Next they went out back to survey the championship golf course that the home backed up to. They would have golfing privileges every day, and each week the course transformed to a new one, representing the great golf courses on Earth. The old man asked, "What are the green fees?" Peter's reply, "This is Heaven, you play for free." Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with the cuisines of the world laid out. "How much to eat?" asked the old man. "Don't you understand yet? This is Heaven, it is free!" Peter replied with some exasperation.
"Well, where are the low fat and low cholesterol tables?" the old man asked timidly. Peter lectured, "That's the best part; you can eat as much as you like of whatever you like, and you never get fat or sick. This is Heaven." With that, the old man went into a fit of anger, throwing down his hat and stomping on it, and shrieking wildly. Peter and his wife both tried to calm him down, asking him what was wrong. The old man looked at his wife and said, "This is all your fault. If it weren't for your bran muffins, I could have been here ten years ago!"
Or what about the conversation I overheard last Sunday. Chris was cautioning her son, MacKenzie at the carry in after worship. "Doesn't it embarrass you that people have seen you go up to the buffet table five times?" she asked. "Not a bit," MacKenzie replied. "I just tell them I'm filling up the plate for you!"
And we all might have our own interesting buffet experiences to share. While at the buffet of an Oriental restaurant I was dining in recently, everything was labeled with post-it notes. Everyone was having quite a time trying to figure a particular one out. Instead of the popular Hunan Beef, the sign said Human Beef. Needless to say the pan was still full...
Even in the midst of these laughable moments, the appeal of a buffet is rather obvious. In fact, "Buffet" is a French word that means "Eat until you explode!" It’s that notion of having no limits. No limits, unlimited, all you want—all you can eat. Human beings respond to the notion of no limits very positively.
Sometimes we go to buffets for those glamorous food delicacies we might not normally prepare for ourselves - the “all you can eat” shrimp, the “fresh crab legs”…the sushi bar.
So, what’s a good buffet, if there is such a thing? And secondly—do you really eat that much at a buffet? Food, any food, is the best at first tasting, the first mouthful. After that, only the most extraordinary food gets better. With buffet food, the first mouthful, or the first plateful, maybe okay. After that, it’s a matter of loosening the belt and going back to the lines with the idea that you have to get your money’s worth. At least, that’s what it seems like to me.
The very concept of the buffet seems very American to me somehow, even though the “all you can eat” smorgasbord originated in Scandinavia. Lining up at a stainless steel counter, staring at florescent-lit food; it’s a rather lonely feeling, devoid of the home-cooked experience you get after slaving over a hot stove—all for the benefit of your loved ones. Buffets are more about feeding, than dining. And real dining—I believe—takes a lot more than that. It is a lot of work.
One of the things we have learned in recent years is that it is important when reading the Bible to approach it from different angles. Various avenues lead to different insights. Questions arise that we might not have thought of otherwise. Sometimes it’s even possible to hear something new about a story we thought we understood so well. Take the story of Jesus’ feeding of the multitude in the wilderness, for example. For many years we have thought that this was a miracle story, a story about Jesus’ amazing ability in a difficult situation. Jesus and the disciples have gone off to a deserted place, but a large crowd of people has followed them. Matthew says, five thousand men were there, not counting all the women and children. Jesus feels sorry for them and spends the day curing their many illnesses. Then the sun begins to set, and the disciples begin to worry about how people are going to be fed. That’s the situation.
The other thing to notice about this story is what happens in it. Many people think of this story as a miracle story; but Matthew never uses that word. Somehow we have gotten the idea over the years that Jesus performed some kind of magician’s trick that day, that when he took the loaves and fishes and blessed them that they were multiplied. A supernatural feat, something like rabbits that keep coming out of a hat.
The thing is: that is not what Matthew says. All he says is that everyone had enough to eat and that there was some left over. Furthermore, the emphasis of the whole story is not so much on the people eating but on what happens just before that. The disciples come to Jesus in a panic, apparently concerned about the welfare of the crowd.
. . . the disciples came to him, and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” This exchange between Jesus and his disciples, in other words, seems to be the crux of the story. The disciples think the answer is to send the crowd away so that they might feed themselves. But Jesus’ solution has nothing to do with participating in the dominating mentality of both that era and ours. You’ve heard the popular saying, “God helps those who helps themselves.” But this doesn’t seem to be the gospel message of Jesus.
Instead Jesus determines the available resources, organizes the consumers into groups, pronounces the blessing, and distributes what is at hand. Well, almost. Jesus does not distribute the loaves in this story. He took the loaves. . . gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.
What is important to notice in this story is who does feed the crowds. It is not Jesus. It is the disciples. From the diagnosis of the problem to the gathering up of leftovers, the disciples did all the work. The disciples are the ones who symbolize what it means to be like Jesus in the world. They learn how to be that way by doing what they are told. No briefing on how they are to arrange it. No estimate on how it will all turn out. They simply act on orders and discover one whose compassion reaches beyond their wildest dreams.
This was an extremely important story for Matthew’s church. It was not a church the way most of us still think of church; a building to keep up, bazaars to hold, a place where people come to perform rituals and a central authority somewhere downtown. This was a house church, an informal gathering of families in a safe place far from spying eyes. Rich and poor people huddled together in the name of Jesus, attempting to understand and embody the way of Jesus in the world the best way they knew how. They needed each other to survive. None of this modern-day individualism and competitive spirit we worship nowadays both in and out of church. Compassion was required of people in these tiny communities and households. Mercy. You were expected to show it in the face of someone else’s needs. Not an option, but a command of the One they all loved. It’s a matter of following orders.
In fact, that was what the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper came to mean for these people. It was an opportunity to come together and bless what they had, divide it up and distribute it in memory of him who was the compassion of God, making sure that everything was passed around until all had enough. Indeed, it was said of those people in those first churches that people would sell what they didn’t need and give it to others so that no one was in need (Acts 2.45). Just imagine!
That’s why this story from Matthew was so important. It was a reminder of what can happen when we obey Jesus’ order to give away what we have. And those first Christians took it as an order, for they truly believed that.
Heaven starts here, my friends. It starts when we discover the amazing goodness and delight of opening our hearts to anyone who is in need; for love is indeed its own reward. Of course, hell starts here too. For if it is eternal life to love the way Jesus loved anyone in need, it is hell to think that the only person who matters in this world is you.(Excerpts from Barry J. Robinson’s sermon “Just Following Orders” for July 31, 2005 – www.fernstone.org)
Meditation Prayer: Imagine yourself sitting before an amazing spread of food—all of your favorite things are there; juicy steaks, hot buttered baked potatoes, creamy macaroni and cheese, cool pasta salads, fresh slices of chilled watermelon, sweet banana cream pies. Now picture some of your favorite things.
Now, imagine in place of that delicious cooking you see the amazing good deeds accomplished by this faith community; caring for the homeless, preparing relief kits for disaster victims, walking in marches for social causes in the community, feeding the community, collecting clothes and groceries for needy families, giving your financial support that contributes to the work of ministry. These things are on God’s buffet. These gifts of time, talent and treasure are the means by which the hurting will be healed, the lonely will be loved, and the hungry will be fed. This is our mandate as followers of the Christ, and when we engage in this kind of service our souls will be satisfied with “all that we can eat.” And that is our gospel truth for today. Amen!
I have some buffet jokes for you this morning. There was an 85-year-old couple, having been married almost 60 years, found themselves at the Pearly Gates together. They had been in good health the last ten years mainly due to the wife's interest in health food and exercise. So when they reached the gates, St. Peter took them to their mansion, which was decked out with a beautiful kitchen and bathroom suite, with a Jacuzzi. As they "oohed and aahed," the old man asked Peter how much all this was going to cost. "It's free," Peter replied, "this is Heaven."
Next they went out back to survey the championship golf course that the home backed up to. They would have golfing privileges every day, and each week the course transformed to a new one, representing the great golf courses on Earth. The old man asked, "What are the green fees?" Peter's reply, "This is Heaven, you play for free." Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with the cuisines of the world laid out. "How much to eat?" asked the old man. "Don't you understand yet? This is Heaven, it is free!" Peter replied with some exasperation.
"Well, where are the low fat and low cholesterol tables?" the old man asked timidly. Peter lectured, "That's the best part; you can eat as much as you like of whatever you like, and you never get fat or sick. This is Heaven." With that, the old man went into a fit of anger, throwing down his hat and stomping on it, and shrieking wildly. Peter and his wife both tried to calm him down, asking him what was wrong. The old man looked at his wife and said, "This is all your fault. If it weren't for your bran muffins, I could have been here ten years ago!"
Or what about the conversation I overheard last Sunday. Chris was cautioning her son, MacKenzie at the carry in after worship. "Doesn't it embarrass you that people have seen you go up to the buffet table five times?" she asked. "Not a bit," MacKenzie replied. "I just tell them I'm filling up the plate for you!"
And we all might have our own interesting buffet experiences to share. While at the buffet of an Oriental restaurant I was dining in recently, everything was labeled with post-it notes. Everyone was having quite a time trying to figure a particular one out. Instead of the popular Hunan Beef, the sign said Human Beef. Needless to say the pan was still full...
Even in the midst of these laughable moments, the appeal of a buffet is rather obvious. In fact, "Buffet" is a French word that means "Eat until you explode!" It’s that notion of having no limits. No limits, unlimited, all you want—all you can eat. Human beings respond to the notion of no limits very positively.
Sometimes we go to buffets for those glamorous food delicacies we might not normally prepare for ourselves - the “all you can eat” shrimp, the “fresh crab legs”…the sushi bar.
So, what’s a good buffet, if there is such a thing? And secondly—do you really eat that much at a buffet? Food, any food, is the best at first tasting, the first mouthful. After that, only the most extraordinary food gets better. With buffet food, the first mouthful, or the first plateful, maybe okay. After that, it’s a matter of loosening the belt and going back to the lines with the idea that you have to get your money’s worth. At least, that’s what it seems like to me.
The very concept of the buffet seems very American to me somehow, even though the “all you can eat” smorgasbord originated in Scandinavia. Lining up at a stainless steel counter, staring at florescent-lit food; it’s a rather lonely feeling, devoid of the home-cooked experience you get after slaving over a hot stove—all for the benefit of your loved ones. Buffets are more about feeding, than dining. And real dining—I believe—takes a lot more than that. It is a lot of work.
One of the things we have learned in recent years is that it is important when reading the Bible to approach it from different angles. Various avenues lead to different insights. Questions arise that we might not have thought of otherwise. Sometimes it’s even possible to hear something new about a story we thought we understood so well. Take the story of Jesus’ feeding of the multitude in the wilderness, for example. For many years we have thought that this was a miracle story, a story about Jesus’ amazing ability in a difficult situation. Jesus and the disciples have gone off to a deserted place, but a large crowd of people has followed them. Matthew says, five thousand men were there, not counting all the women and children. Jesus feels sorry for them and spends the day curing their many illnesses. Then the sun begins to set, and the disciples begin to worry about how people are going to be fed. That’s the situation.
The other thing to notice about this story is what happens in it. Many people think of this story as a miracle story; but Matthew never uses that word. Somehow we have gotten the idea over the years that Jesus performed some kind of magician’s trick that day, that when he took the loaves and fishes and blessed them that they were multiplied. A supernatural feat, something like rabbits that keep coming out of a hat.
The thing is: that is not what Matthew says. All he says is that everyone had enough to eat and that there was some left over. Furthermore, the emphasis of the whole story is not so much on the people eating but on what happens just before that. The disciples come to Jesus in a panic, apparently concerned about the welfare of the crowd.
. . . the disciples came to him, and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” This exchange between Jesus and his disciples, in other words, seems to be the crux of the story. The disciples think the answer is to send the crowd away so that they might feed themselves. But Jesus’ solution has nothing to do with participating in the dominating mentality of both that era and ours. You’ve heard the popular saying, “God helps those who helps themselves.” But this doesn’t seem to be the gospel message of Jesus.
Instead Jesus determines the available resources, organizes the consumers into groups, pronounces the blessing, and distributes what is at hand. Well, almost. Jesus does not distribute the loaves in this story. He took the loaves. . . gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.
What is important to notice in this story is who does feed the crowds. It is not Jesus. It is the disciples. From the diagnosis of the problem to the gathering up of leftovers, the disciples did all the work. The disciples are the ones who symbolize what it means to be like Jesus in the world. They learn how to be that way by doing what they are told. No briefing on how they are to arrange it. No estimate on how it will all turn out. They simply act on orders and discover one whose compassion reaches beyond their wildest dreams.
This was an extremely important story for Matthew’s church. It was not a church the way most of us still think of church; a building to keep up, bazaars to hold, a place where people come to perform rituals and a central authority somewhere downtown. This was a house church, an informal gathering of families in a safe place far from spying eyes. Rich and poor people huddled together in the name of Jesus, attempting to understand and embody the way of Jesus in the world the best way they knew how. They needed each other to survive. None of this modern-day individualism and competitive spirit we worship nowadays both in and out of church. Compassion was required of people in these tiny communities and households. Mercy. You were expected to show it in the face of someone else’s needs. Not an option, but a command of the One they all loved. It’s a matter of following orders.
In fact, that was what the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper came to mean for these people. It was an opportunity to come together and bless what they had, divide it up and distribute it in memory of him who was the compassion of God, making sure that everything was passed around until all had enough. Indeed, it was said of those people in those first churches that people would sell what they didn’t need and give it to others so that no one was in need (Acts 2.45). Just imagine!
That’s why this story from Matthew was so important. It was a reminder of what can happen when we obey Jesus’ order to give away what we have. And those first Christians took it as an order, for they truly believed that.
Heaven starts here, my friends. It starts when we discover the amazing goodness and delight of opening our hearts to anyone who is in need; for love is indeed its own reward. Of course, hell starts here too. For if it is eternal life to love the way Jesus loved anyone in need, it is hell to think that the only person who matters in this world is you.(Excerpts from Barry J. Robinson’s sermon “Just Following Orders” for July 31, 2005 – www.fernstone.org)
Meditation Prayer: Imagine yourself sitting before an amazing spread of food—all of your favorite things are there; juicy steaks, hot buttered baked potatoes, creamy macaroni and cheese, cool pasta salads, fresh slices of chilled watermelon, sweet banana cream pies. Now picture some of your favorite things.
Now, imagine in place of that delicious cooking you see the amazing good deeds accomplished by this faith community; caring for the homeless, preparing relief kits for disaster victims, walking in marches for social causes in the community, feeding the community, collecting clothes and groceries for needy families, giving your financial support that contributes to the work of ministry. These things are on God’s buffet. These gifts of time, talent and treasure are the means by which the hurting will be healed, the lonely will be loved, and the hungry will be fed. This is our mandate as followers of the Christ, and when we engage in this kind of service our souls will be satisfied with “all that we can eat.” And that is our gospel truth for today. Amen!
Friday, April 25, 2008
It's Time to Celebrate...THE WAY!
John 14:1-14
I admit that I am an HGTV junkie. Designed to Sell, Myles of Style, Divine Design, My House is Worth What?, Property Virgins, Hidden Potential…you name the home improvement show and I watch it. I take great joy in watching other people engage in hard labor to renovate their homes so that they can either sell them at a profit, or turn their dump into a show place. Now do you think I would have the courage to do that myself? Forget about it! I spent about a week repainting my bedroom and bathroom a few years ago…and was so exhausted by the process, that I swore I’d never do it again.
Well, that was until we moved into this place. If you’ve seen the before and after pictures of our church I’m sure you’ve also wondered just how this transformation was possible. Well, it wasn’t easy, by any means. It took about nine months from the first day we began demolition of this old, moldy and dusty building until we finally finished everything and received our current occupancy permit. It was a joyous day to be sure. Most of you weren’t even here then. The majority of you came into relationship with Journey because, I thought, we were such a radically different model of church that it would attract folks like you who just didn’t want to go to church anymore, for whatever reason. And what you see now as a beautiful building doesn’t begin to tell the story of the labor of love we invested to make this our new church home. I really thought that this was the place God intended for us to stay for a long, long time.
Well, I was wrong. Sometimes it’s just best to tell the truth and not mince words, right? Now I’m not saying we were wrong to invest our time, energy and resources in turning this building into a church, coffee shop, concert venue and youth center. I still believe that the original vision for this place is still compelling. That church is about welcoming and inviting people into a relationship with God in ways that are culturally relevant. What I think I was wrong about was assuming that God’s church is defined by what it looks like. That paint and plaster and high end technology and an awesome sound system, and a cool coffee house environment would help people feel closer to God. That the place out of which God wants us to do ministry has to look and feel different. That people won’t want to know God unless God looks hip, and relevant, and different from the rest of the churches in this town. That the way to God is out of the box!
This past week has changed my perspective radically. Although I won’t get into the specifics right now, but the short story is; we have to make a decision as a church about where we are going. And to be quite honest, the chances are pretty good that it won’t be here anymore. Issues with our landlord and our financial ability to stay in this building may force us to relocate. But before we can make an informed decision about whether or when that happens, and where our journey will take us next, we have to reevaluate who we are now, and who we want to become.
I look around this room and I am so proud to pastor a congregation where everyone is involved in the ministry of this church in some way. Yeah we are small in numbers, but do you realize just how much we have accomplished in this community? The facts are clear, people know who we are…not just in this city, but all the way to New York and throughout much of the Midwest. It’s exciting to know that we have dozens of bands requesting to play in our concert venue. That there are folks wanting to use our building for special events and meetings. That our coffee shop is a cozy place for people to relax and gather together. But I am motivated now to ask the question…do any of these folks really want to know more about God after coming here? Have we created a place that has secularized the Good News of Jesus so much that most don’t even know we are a church?
Our Gospel message today is one of those comforting texts that is used at almost every funeral service I’ve officiated or attended. Jesus is again addressing with his disciples that he has to leave them, that his time is coming soon where he would be arrested, ridiculed, punished and eventually executed for his actions over the past three years. The disciples are visibally troubled emotionally, physically, and spiritually. They are confused and terrified by the thought that Jesus was leaving. What would happen to them? Where would they go? Without their fearless leader they had nothing to stand behind. It would be their heads on the chopping block next. Jesus said that he would be preparing a place for his disciples. They would be taken care of, even in the midst of the trouble ahead. That even in the shadow of death, God would not abandon them. Jesus encouraged them to always focus on what was coming next, and death was not the end of the story.
Biblical scholars, archeologists and language experts suggest that this conversation between Jesus and his disciples was first recorded at least 70 years after his Jesus’ death. The author of the Gospel of John is in fact writing the story down from oral history to a specific group of people who were also in desperate times. This early community of believers was being persecuted by the Roman Empire, being fed to the lions and offered as sacrifice to pagen Gods. These particular scriptures are not found in any of the other Gospels, and define what was distinctive about John’s church. These early Christians had to also find security in the abiding presence of Christ within it. They found their religious certainty in the vision of God it saw in Jesus Christ. They saw their mission as being one to the greater community that surrounded it.
It was about 8 years ago when I really first envisioned the model of church we are now engaged in. I knew that inviting people into this inclusive community would not be a simple task. What I did not expect was the difficulty in finding others who felt that same passion. I know why. It is really hard, disappointing at times, and to be quite honest, pretty exhausting. I’m reminded of this conversation between Jesus and his disciples about what he wanted them to do, and how they must have stood there listening to him with glazed eyes! The exchange between Thomas and Jesus in our text today was, and is pretty telling when we are faced with the decision to move into uncharted territory for the sake of the Gospel.
1 "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.
2 In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. 4 And you know the way to the place where I am going."
5 Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" 6 Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him."
I think Jesus was saying simply, you won't always know where you are headed. But keeping your eyes on the One who shows us the way, is the way. That the obstacles, challenges, tough decisions will be easier to overcome when we keep our hearts set on being the Christ. That is our journey! These challenging times are just the opportunity for us to be Christ to each other. In what we say, in how we judge, in response to our own anxiety and angst, in the midst of discouragement, disappointment, and frustration. Now is the time to practice what we preach. That is our lesson!
Now, you have all brought so many gifts and passion for ministry to the table that we call Journey Church. There is a reason for you being here. It's okay to be frustrated, discouraged, angry, etc...but the lesson for us is how we plan to respond to this experience. Does it really matter what happens to us in the end...or where we end up and when we get there? The WAY to God’s place for us tomorrow is by building it today...within each of our hearts and minds.
The first step in that journey is by banding together as disciples, unified in one purpose. Do we know what that purpose is? I mean really know? Sure we say we want to spread the Gospel, but have we decided what that is for us at Journey Church? Perhaps that's where we should begin the conversation. I really think that once we share that vision...once the sure foundation is laid...the building of that vision will come naturally.
Most of you weren't around when I started this ministry. You may not know or understand that initial mission and vision that brought this place into being. All I know is that you are here, because you were drawn to Journey Church for some reason...and I believe that reason is for you to become the disciple that God intended for you to be. YES, it comes with challenge, sacrifice and disillusionment...but Jesus said, "If you know me, you will know my Father also." And isn't that what we really want in this life...to know God our Father, Mother, Spirit, and Creator?
Let's start over...and begin the conversation anew. Yes we still have to deal with the hard decisions and the tough calls...but if you let me be your pastor, I will seek to identify the spiritual learning in this journey...and I hope you will be my pastor for the same reason. I want to follow the WAY...and we need each other to see the Christ leading us. And if we can do that for each other, then you can do that for yourself.
What is the troubling thing in your own heart and life that needs the Christ within to overcome it? Doing great things for God begins by overcoming whatever keeps you in that same old place you are now. Jesus has prepared a new place for you. Let’s take the journey to that new place together! AMEN!
I admit that I am an HGTV junkie. Designed to Sell, Myles of Style, Divine Design, My House is Worth What?, Property Virgins, Hidden Potential…you name the home improvement show and I watch it. I take great joy in watching other people engage in hard labor to renovate their homes so that they can either sell them at a profit, or turn their dump into a show place. Now do you think I would have the courage to do that myself? Forget about it! I spent about a week repainting my bedroom and bathroom a few years ago…and was so exhausted by the process, that I swore I’d never do it again.
Well, that was until we moved into this place. If you’ve seen the before and after pictures of our church I’m sure you’ve also wondered just how this transformation was possible. Well, it wasn’t easy, by any means. It took about nine months from the first day we began demolition of this old, moldy and dusty building until we finally finished everything and received our current occupancy permit. It was a joyous day to be sure. Most of you weren’t even here then. The majority of you came into relationship with Journey because, I thought, we were such a radically different model of church that it would attract folks like you who just didn’t want to go to church anymore, for whatever reason. And what you see now as a beautiful building doesn’t begin to tell the story of the labor of love we invested to make this our new church home. I really thought that this was the place God intended for us to stay for a long, long time.
Well, I was wrong. Sometimes it’s just best to tell the truth and not mince words, right? Now I’m not saying we were wrong to invest our time, energy and resources in turning this building into a church, coffee shop, concert venue and youth center. I still believe that the original vision for this place is still compelling. That church is about welcoming and inviting people into a relationship with God in ways that are culturally relevant. What I think I was wrong about was assuming that God’s church is defined by what it looks like. That paint and plaster and high end technology and an awesome sound system, and a cool coffee house environment would help people feel closer to God. That the place out of which God wants us to do ministry has to look and feel different. That people won’t want to know God unless God looks hip, and relevant, and different from the rest of the churches in this town. That the way to God is out of the box!
This past week has changed my perspective radically. Although I won’t get into the specifics right now, but the short story is; we have to make a decision as a church about where we are going. And to be quite honest, the chances are pretty good that it won’t be here anymore. Issues with our landlord and our financial ability to stay in this building may force us to relocate. But before we can make an informed decision about whether or when that happens, and where our journey will take us next, we have to reevaluate who we are now, and who we want to become.
I look around this room and I am so proud to pastor a congregation where everyone is involved in the ministry of this church in some way. Yeah we are small in numbers, but do you realize just how much we have accomplished in this community? The facts are clear, people know who we are…not just in this city, but all the way to New York and throughout much of the Midwest. It’s exciting to know that we have dozens of bands requesting to play in our concert venue. That there are folks wanting to use our building for special events and meetings. That our coffee shop is a cozy place for people to relax and gather together. But I am motivated now to ask the question…do any of these folks really want to know more about God after coming here? Have we created a place that has secularized the Good News of Jesus so much that most don’t even know we are a church?
Our Gospel message today is one of those comforting texts that is used at almost every funeral service I’ve officiated or attended. Jesus is again addressing with his disciples that he has to leave them, that his time is coming soon where he would be arrested, ridiculed, punished and eventually executed for his actions over the past three years. The disciples are visibally troubled emotionally, physically, and spiritually. They are confused and terrified by the thought that Jesus was leaving. What would happen to them? Where would they go? Without their fearless leader they had nothing to stand behind. It would be their heads on the chopping block next. Jesus said that he would be preparing a place for his disciples. They would be taken care of, even in the midst of the trouble ahead. That even in the shadow of death, God would not abandon them. Jesus encouraged them to always focus on what was coming next, and death was not the end of the story.
Biblical scholars, archeologists and language experts suggest that this conversation between Jesus and his disciples was first recorded at least 70 years after his Jesus’ death. The author of the Gospel of John is in fact writing the story down from oral history to a specific group of people who were also in desperate times. This early community of believers was being persecuted by the Roman Empire, being fed to the lions and offered as sacrifice to pagen Gods. These particular scriptures are not found in any of the other Gospels, and define what was distinctive about John’s church. These early Christians had to also find security in the abiding presence of Christ within it. They found their religious certainty in the vision of God it saw in Jesus Christ. They saw their mission as being one to the greater community that surrounded it.
It was about 8 years ago when I really first envisioned the model of church we are now engaged in. I knew that inviting people into this inclusive community would not be a simple task. What I did not expect was the difficulty in finding others who felt that same passion. I know why. It is really hard, disappointing at times, and to be quite honest, pretty exhausting. I’m reminded of this conversation between Jesus and his disciples about what he wanted them to do, and how they must have stood there listening to him with glazed eyes! The exchange between Thomas and Jesus in our text today was, and is pretty telling when we are faced with the decision to move into uncharted territory for the sake of the Gospel.
1 "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.
2 In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. 4 And you know the way to the place where I am going."
5 Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" 6 Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him."
I think Jesus was saying simply, you won't always know where you are headed. But keeping your eyes on the One who shows us the way, is the way. That the obstacles, challenges, tough decisions will be easier to overcome when we keep our hearts set on being the Christ. That is our journey! These challenging times are just the opportunity for us to be Christ to each other. In what we say, in how we judge, in response to our own anxiety and angst, in the midst of discouragement, disappointment, and frustration. Now is the time to practice what we preach. That is our lesson!
Now, you have all brought so many gifts and passion for ministry to the table that we call Journey Church. There is a reason for you being here. It's okay to be frustrated, discouraged, angry, etc...but the lesson for us is how we plan to respond to this experience. Does it really matter what happens to us in the end...or where we end up and when we get there? The WAY to God’s place for us tomorrow is by building it today...within each of our hearts and minds.
The first step in that journey is by banding together as disciples, unified in one purpose. Do we know what that purpose is? I mean really know? Sure we say we want to spread the Gospel, but have we decided what that is for us at Journey Church? Perhaps that's where we should begin the conversation. I really think that once we share that vision...once the sure foundation is laid...the building of that vision will come naturally.
Most of you weren't around when I started this ministry. You may not know or understand that initial mission and vision that brought this place into being. All I know is that you are here, because you were drawn to Journey Church for some reason...and I believe that reason is for you to become the disciple that God intended for you to be. YES, it comes with challenge, sacrifice and disillusionment...but Jesus said, "If you know me, you will know my Father also." And isn't that what we really want in this life...to know God our Father, Mother, Spirit, and Creator?
Let's start over...and begin the conversation anew. Yes we still have to deal with the hard decisions and the tough calls...but if you let me be your pastor, I will seek to identify the spiritual learning in this journey...and I hope you will be my pastor for the same reason. I want to follow the WAY...and we need each other to see the Christ leading us. And if we can do that for each other, then you can do that for yourself.
What is the troubling thing in your own heart and life that needs the Christ within to overcome it? Doing great things for God begins by overcoming whatever keeps you in that same old place you are now. Jesus has prepared a new place for you. Let’s take the journey to that new place together! AMEN!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Shooting for the Stars
I love the Star Trek movies and TV series. Whether it’s the original Star Trek from the 60’s to the most recent series like Star Trek Next Generation, Voyager, or Deep Space Nine—I just couldn’t get enough of these Sci-Fi fantasy shows. Now I wouldn’t consider myself a Trekkie, per say, but I would pay to see a Star Trek celebrity if I had the chance. I think my favorite character of all of them, however, is Jean Luc Picard. And during this Epiphany season following our holidays I think it is appropriate for Jean-Luc to sing you his version of a favorite Christmas carol.
Star Trek Carol by Jean-Luc Picard (to the tune of ''Let It Snow'')
Oh, the vacuum outside is endless,
Unforgiving, cold, and friendless,
But still we must boldly go--
Make it so, make it so, make it so!
Okay…that was my only bad joke in this blog. But think about the something with me if you will. Knowing what we know today about Science and the cosmos…just how do we interpret the story of the magi and the star they followed to the Christ child?
A theologian and an astronomer were talking together one day about their different understandings about how the universe works. The astronomer said that after reading widely in the field of religion, he had concluded that all religion could be summed up in a single phrase. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," he said, with a bit of smugness, knowing that his field of astronomy is so much more complex.
After a brief pause, the theologian replied that after reading widely in the area of astronomy he had concluded that all of it could be summed up in a single phrase also. "Oh, and what is that?" the astronaut inquired.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star; how I wonder what you are!"
If there is one thing we do know today about the vast Universe, it is the fact there is more empty space out there than there is filled. And that empty space is pretty dark and mysterious. We just don’t know too much about it. What we do know comes to us in small glimpses and flickers.
Light shining in the darkness is a central image in the story of Jesus’ birth. It is most obvious in the star of Matthew's Gospel, shining in the night sky and leading the wise men of the gentiles to the place of Jesus' birth. One of my favorite authors and theologians, Marcus Borg suggests that the symbolism of light and darkness is ancient, prototypical and cross - cultural. It has many rich meanings. Darkness is associated with blindness, night, sleep, cold, gloom, despair, lostness, chaos, death, danger and yearning for the dawn. It is a striking image of the human condition. Light is seen as the antidote to the above, and is thus an image of salvation. In the light, one is awake, able to see and find one's way; it is associated with relief and rejoicing that the night is over; in the light one is safe and warm. In the light there is life.
For Matthew, and for Christians ever since, Jesus is the light shining in the darkness. The author of John's Gospel makes the same affirmation: "The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world." Jesus is the light who brings enlightenment; indeed, he is "the light of the world." This is the truth of this theme of the birth stories. And it is still true independent of their historical factuality. (reflections from www.religion-online.org)
And speaking of ancient history, as a boy I used to look forward to my camp outs as a “Royal Ranger,” the Pentecostal equivalent of the Boy Scouts. I loved going deep into the woods of the Hocking Hills where the sky was clear and there were no city lights to spoil the view of the night stars. Our trips always started with cramming into trucks and vans, which we rode in for what seemed hours and hours. The ride was always long and boring. Sometimes we would joke and tell stories. Sometimes look at the scenery out of the window. Sometimes we would try to sleep using our jackets as pillows. After a stop to get food and gas, we made our way to the winding roads leading into the national park’s entrance. The scenery got darker and darker and the road began to wind back and forth. Sometimes we younger boys got a little scared. The taller boys could see the white lines on the road with the headlights. But all of us knew one thing—we were out in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night.
Suddenly, we could see a few lights on the side of the road. The vans and trucks would turn onto a gravel road. The lights would illumine a small campground and the vehicles would stop. We would then unload our gear, and set up camp. After dinner, our leader announced we would hike to out to see the stars. I was excited to learn about the constellations and all the large lights in the sky. We would hike deeper into the woods to the top of the tallest hill. Then the leader would announce, "Lay down and look up at the stars."
One by one, we grew quiet as we looked at the thousands of stars in the sky. The leader would describe the position of stars and the images of constellations. Eventually the sky would cease to look like sand, and began to look like a puzzle with pieces that fit together. Some of us began to see animals and faces. Sometimes I thought I could see a familiar face looking back at me. Those nights changed me. I began see how big the universe really was and how great God's creation was. I could see God look back at me.
My camping trips must have been like the experience of the wise men. They could see the stars, like me. They studied the stars, like me. They even traveled to see a star, like me. And like me, their travels changed their lives. But, they saw, for the first time, someone I started seeing a lot—the Christ.
I believe that God has created us to also light up the world. There's a great movie that came out on video just a few weeks ago called, "Stardust." It reflects a great image of what we can do when our hearts are aligned with the Star maker. We too can shine in those dark places. We too can be a source of warmth and embrace for all people who are surrounded by darkness and emptiness. And perhaps you are one of those folks—cold, empty and barely able to shine.
How do you find that inner light? How can a relationship with God centered in the teachings of Jesus bring back your glow? How can you burn brightly with the light of God?
I propose three ways—I call them the three wise minutes. For three minutes reflect on ways that you can shine brighter the light that is already within you. Categorize these three ways in three columns labeled body, mind and spirit.
Under the Body column write down just one physical activity that you can do for yourself that will make you feel better. Something you can do everyday. It might be going to the gym to work out, walking around the block, dancing to a song, exercising, running, even stretching. It doesn’t matter how long, just that you do something everyday. Start with 3 minutes, 3 times a day…and build up to more as you are able. And during these 3 minutes put your entire attention on God during the activity. Focus on the light that is within you and imagine it growing inside of you with each second of activity. Okay…simple enough?
Under the second column for Mind, decide that you will do something for 3 minutes, 3 times a day that renews your mind. Have you seen those latest video games for the Nintendo DS called Brain Power? These are simple games that sharpen your intellectual acuity. Engage in mind exercises that focus on building things like concentration, perception, insight or sharpness. Just learning something new is an easy task. Read a book that stretches your knowledge base. Learn some new words—read the dictionary! Just 3 minutes, 3 times a day is all it takes.
The final column is for activities that feed your soul. These are spiritual, God centered actions that turn ordinary experiences into sacred moments. It can be anything creative that involves making God the central focus in the moment. Things like meditation, prayer, attending a small spiritual group discussion, being still, sharing acts of kindness, lending a listening ear, reflective breathing. Whatever the activity, do it for 3 minutes, 3 times a day.
If you follow these three wise minutes of growing your light you will have spent almost half an hour each day becoming compatible with your creator. It’s that easy…and it is fun too! Shoot for the stars this new year, and become one yourself!
Amen.
Star Trek Carol by Jean-Luc Picard (to the tune of ''Let It Snow'')
Oh, the vacuum outside is endless,
Unforgiving, cold, and friendless,
But still we must boldly go--
Make it so, make it so, make it so!
Okay…that was my only bad joke in this blog. But think about the something with me if you will. Knowing what we know today about Science and the cosmos…just how do we interpret the story of the magi and the star they followed to the Christ child?
A theologian and an astronomer were talking together one day about their different understandings about how the universe works. The astronomer said that after reading widely in the field of religion, he had concluded that all religion could be summed up in a single phrase. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," he said, with a bit of smugness, knowing that his field of astronomy is so much more complex.
After a brief pause, the theologian replied that after reading widely in the area of astronomy he had concluded that all of it could be summed up in a single phrase also. "Oh, and what is that?" the astronaut inquired.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star; how I wonder what you are!"
If there is one thing we do know today about the vast Universe, it is the fact there is more empty space out there than there is filled. And that empty space is pretty dark and mysterious. We just don’t know too much about it. What we do know comes to us in small glimpses and flickers.
Light shining in the darkness is a central image in the story of Jesus’ birth. It is most obvious in the star of Matthew's Gospel, shining in the night sky and leading the wise men of the gentiles to the place of Jesus' birth. One of my favorite authors and theologians, Marcus Borg suggests that the symbolism of light and darkness is ancient, prototypical and cross - cultural. It has many rich meanings. Darkness is associated with blindness, night, sleep, cold, gloom, despair, lostness, chaos, death, danger and yearning for the dawn. It is a striking image of the human condition. Light is seen as the antidote to the above, and is thus an image of salvation. In the light, one is awake, able to see and find one's way; it is associated with relief and rejoicing that the night is over; in the light one is safe and warm. In the light there is life.
For Matthew, and for Christians ever since, Jesus is the light shining in the darkness. The author of John's Gospel makes the same affirmation: "The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world." Jesus is the light who brings enlightenment; indeed, he is "the light of the world." This is the truth of this theme of the birth stories. And it is still true independent of their historical factuality. (reflections from www.religion-online.org)
And speaking of ancient history, as a boy I used to look forward to my camp outs as a “Royal Ranger,” the Pentecostal equivalent of the Boy Scouts. I loved going deep into the woods of the Hocking Hills where the sky was clear and there were no city lights to spoil the view of the night stars. Our trips always started with cramming into trucks and vans, which we rode in for what seemed hours and hours. The ride was always long and boring. Sometimes we would joke and tell stories. Sometimes look at the scenery out of the window. Sometimes we would try to sleep using our jackets as pillows. After a stop to get food and gas, we made our way to the winding roads leading into the national park’s entrance. The scenery got darker and darker and the road began to wind back and forth. Sometimes we younger boys got a little scared. The taller boys could see the white lines on the road with the headlights. But all of us knew one thing—we were out in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night.
Suddenly, we could see a few lights on the side of the road. The vans and trucks would turn onto a gravel road. The lights would illumine a small campground and the vehicles would stop. We would then unload our gear, and set up camp. After dinner, our leader announced we would hike to out to see the stars. I was excited to learn about the constellations and all the large lights in the sky. We would hike deeper into the woods to the top of the tallest hill. Then the leader would announce, "Lay down and look up at the stars."
One by one, we grew quiet as we looked at the thousands of stars in the sky. The leader would describe the position of stars and the images of constellations. Eventually the sky would cease to look like sand, and began to look like a puzzle with pieces that fit together. Some of us began to see animals and faces. Sometimes I thought I could see a familiar face looking back at me. Those nights changed me. I began see how big the universe really was and how great God's creation was. I could see God look back at me.
My camping trips must have been like the experience of the wise men. They could see the stars, like me. They studied the stars, like me. They even traveled to see a star, like me. And like me, their travels changed their lives. But, they saw, for the first time, someone I started seeing a lot—the Christ.
I believe that God has created us to also light up the world. There's a great movie that came out on video just a few weeks ago called, "Stardust." It reflects a great image of what we can do when our hearts are aligned with the Star maker. We too can shine in those dark places. We too can be a source of warmth and embrace for all people who are surrounded by darkness and emptiness. And perhaps you are one of those folks—cold, empty and barely able to shine.
How do you find that inner light? How can a relationship with God centered in the teachings of Jesus bring back your glow? How can you burn brightly with the light of God?
I propose three ways—I call them the three wise minutes. For three minutes reflect on ways that you can shine brighter the light that is already within you. Categorize these three ways in three columns labeled body, mind and spirit.
Under the Body column write down just one physical activity that you can do for yourself that will make you feel better. Something you can do everyday. It might be going to the gym to work out, walking around the block, dancing to a song, exercising, running, even stretching. It doesn’t matter how long, just that you do something everyday. Start with 3 minutes, 3 times a day…and build up to more as you are able. And during these 3 minutes put your entire attention on God during the activity. Focus on the light that is within you and imagine it growing inside of you with each second of activity. Okay…simple enough?
Under the second column for Mind, decide that you will do something for 3 minutes, 3 times a day that renews your mind. Have you seen those latest video games for the Nintendo DS called Brain Power? These are simple games that sharpen your intellectual acuity. Engage in mind exercises that focus on building things like concentration, perception, insight or sharpness. Just learning something new is an easy task. Read a book that stretches your knowledge base. Learn some new words—read the dictionary! Just 3 minutes, 3 times a day is all it takes.
The final column is for activities that feed your soul. These are spiritual, God centered actions that turn ordinary experiences into sacred moments. It can be anything creative that involves making God the central focus in the moment. Things like meditation, prayer, attending a small spiritual group discussion, being still, sharing acts of kindness, lending a listening ear, reflective breathing. Whatever the activity, do it for 3 minutes, 3 times a day.
If you follow these three wise minutes of growing your light you will have spent almost half an hour each day becoming compatible with your creator. It’s that easy…and it is fun too! Shoot for the stars this new year, and become one yourself!
Amen.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Following the Spirit's Leading
After a hard week reevaluating our budget, and revising our expense categories to correspond to current income...I was a bit down and out last Sunday. As I prepared to leave on vacation I prayed to God for guidance and reassurance. I didn't hear anything back. I spent a sleepless night wondering what was going to happen. Where will our journey take us? Are there things that we should be doing? What can we do better? Will we survive?
The questions kept nagging in my mind. The next morning I fired up the computer and received this emailed article. I was amazed how I sensed God speaking these comforting words directly to me...just when I needed to hear them. I thought I would pass it on for your encouragement as well.
Following the Spirit's Leading
by Gary Shockley
Sometimes, without our prompting, life will alter our pace for us. The birth of a child, a promotion at work, sickness, marriage, divorce, the death of someone we love—these things make us stop in our tracks. All forward motion ceases for a time. We would be wise in these moments to rest for a while and simply survey the landscape, find the horizon again, get a sense of where we are, and seek God’s presence.
Several years ago one of these painful experiences shattered my straight-course, driven life. My mother had been battling cancer for nearly two years, and suddenly the days, weeks, and months of slow physical deterioration quickly accelerated. My father called to tell me she had been admitted to the hospital for double pneumonia. I knew my mother was close to death. I made the trip from my home to the hospital in record time and arrived to find my mother in the critical care unit.
Five days after I arrived at the hospital to see her, my mom died. As painful as it was, my mother’s death became the catalyst for some intense work in my life. In my drivenness I had lapsed into a kind of automatic pilot. Day after day, week after week, month after month, I kept an unhealthy pace. I got up early, worked way too late, and, to the neglect of my own well-being and that of my family, kept this unhealthy pace going. I had allowed ministry to become my life. It was predictable and controllable, and it gave me a sense of meaning and importance. What’s not to love? Well, how about the feelings of loneliness, isolation, and shallowness it brought me?
After my mother died I stood still long enough to realize that—like a sailing ship without a rudder—I was being pulled by a strong current, a depression I could not steer my way out of. Sailing into what had become uncharted waters for me, I was losing sight of land. I needed someone to help me navigate this journey. I decided to seek help through counseling. Talking with my therapist once a week was like ducking behind an island to get out of the wind and find the stability I needed. In this time dedicated to me, I learned new things about myself, about life, about God. I learned some new ways to live again: to find a healthier pace, to embrace the journey from heartache to hope.
Although I still get caught at times in my need to succeed, still try to rush things along rather than wait on the Spirit’s leading, I am trying to learn something at once both simple and incredibly difficult: the destination is not a place but a person—a person who loves me very much and more than anything wants to be with me along the journey of life. I am much more open these days to the idea that God isn’t all that interested in getting me somewhere. God is just interested in getting me!
One of my favorite journey stories from the Bible is the Israelites’ expedition from Egypt to the promised land. Some of God’s best work, I think. A trip that easily could have been made in less than 40 days had they followed a straight line took 40 years. Their travel log must have resembled the kind of scribbled picture a two-year-old would draw. You have probably heard someone explain their meanderings in this way: “More important than getting the Israelites out of Egypt was getting Egypt out of the Israelites.” Or “The Israelites were lost because Moses wouldn’t stop and ask for directions.” I think their time spent wandering through the wilderness had more to do with God needing to spend quality time with the people (and the people with God) so they could experience God’s faithfulness over and over again.
God wanted them to trust him today. That’s why God provided manna on a daily basis. Consider the definition of manna—“What is it?” They had to trust God to know that this nameless, unidentifiable, perishable whatchamacallit would be enough for now. They were to gather up only what they could consume that day. If they tried to keep some of it overnight, it spoiled. Tomorrow God would provide—again. They couldn’t make it happen—no matter how much they might be driven by hunger. They just had to meander around, collecting manna as it randomly fell from the sky.
But these ancient wanderers were a hardheaded bunch. How else can you explain them witnessing with their own eyes the 10 plagues, the parting of the sea (twice), bread from heaven, water from rocks, quail blown in by the wind, and countless kingdoms obliterated by the awesome power of God—only to whine, beg, and plead to go back to Egypt, back to a life of slavery, back to what was a familiar, linear, predictable way of life?
Maybe God needed 40 years to nurture a new generation of followers who might just “get” him and be willing to follow. Maybe what God wanted most from them, and now us, is a willingness to put one foot in front of the other, step after step, alongside him, no matter the pace or how the path might twist and turn. Maybe God wanted them to grasp a greater purpose for their lives—to be people who would give witness to this unique and awesome God.
Are we eager to get through whatever task or challenge we face in life as quickly as possible, moving steadily from point A to point B to point C, ever closer toward whatever goal we have in mind? The Israelites’ experience reminds us: the spiritual journey doesn’t work that way. In the faith journey, we are not so much racing toward a physical finish line as meandering toward becoming all that God has in mind for us to be. Like the Israelites, our ability to discern and follow God’s leading has far less to do with time in a chronological sense and much more to do with direction.
Steven R. Covey, professor of business management and organization behavior, writes in his best-selling book "First Things First" about how fixated our culture is on the clock. The clock represents our busyness—commitments at work, appointments, tasks, and schedules. The clock symbolizes how we spend our lives. The compass, on the other hand, represents the personal vision, core values, and principles that shape and guide our lives. Covey suggests that we ought to rely more on the compass than the clock, because the compass has more to do with the direction we intend to follow on our journey.
The Old Testament book of Jeremiah finds the people of Israel exiled in Babylon and restless for home. Their growing impatience made them susceptible to the false hope and promises propagated by some prophets who foretold an early release from captivity. These false promises fixated them on the clock. Like little children sitting in the back of the car on a long trip, they kept asking over and over again, “Hey, God, are we there yet?” Caught up in the clock, they lost sight of the compass. So God sent Jeremiah with the message, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope” (Jeremiah 29:11). No timetable. No drivenness.
God’s plan for the people was simple. Maybe that’s why they missed it. Look at the next verses: “Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me” (vv. 12–14). In other words, “When praying, listening, and looking for me become the focus of your lives, you will find me,” says the Lord. “I am your future and your hope!”
The spiritual journey rarely unfolds in a straight line. We go forward and backward, left and right. We make progress, and we fall behind. Sometimes we feel like we are simply standing still. The questions we need to ask ourselves are not, how far have we come? (How long have we been on the road?) How much farther is it? (Or, when will we get there?) Those are clock questions. Rather, we need to ask, am I pointing myself in what I sense through the Spirit to be the right direction? Am I continually orienting myself toward God? Those are compass questions.
Adapted from The Meandering Way: Leading by Following the Spirit, copyright © 2007 by the Alban Institute. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Go to www.alban.org for full article.
The questions kept nagging in my mind. The next morning I fired up the computer and received this emailed article. I was amazed how I sensed God speaking these comforting words directly to me...just when I needed to hear them. I thought I would pass it on for your encouragement as well.
Following the Spirit's Leading
by Gary Shockley
Sometimes, without our prompting, life will alter our pace for us. The birth of a child, a promotion at work, sickness, marriage, divorce, the death of someone we love—these things make us stop in our tracks. All forward motion ceases for a time. We would be wise in these moments to rest for a while and simply survey the landscape, find the horizon again, get a sense of where we are, and seek God’s presence.
Several years ago one of these painful experiences shattered my straight-course, driven life. My mother had been battling cancer for nearly two years, and suddenly the days, weeks, and months of slow physical deterioration quickly accelerated. My father called to tell me she had been admitted to the hospital for double pneumonia. I knew my mother was close to death. I made the trip from my home to the hospital in record time and arrived to find my mother in the critical care unit.
Five days after I arrived at the hospital to see her, my mom died. As painful as it was, my mother’s death became the catalyst for some intense work in my life. In my drivenness I had lapsed into a kind of automatic pilot. Day after day, week after week, month after month, I kept an unhealthy pace. I got up early, worked way too late, and, to the neglect of my own well-being and that of my family, kept this unhealthy pace going. I had allowed ministry to become my life. It was predictable and controllable, and it gave me a sense of meaning and importance. What’s not to love? Well, how about the feelings of loneliness, isolation, and shallowness it brought me?
After my mother died I stood still long enough to realize that—like a sailing ship without a rudder—I was being pulled by a strong current, a depression I could not steer my way out of. Sailing into what had become uncharted waters for me, I was losing sight of land. I needed someone to help me navigate this journey. I decided to seek help through counseling. Talking with my therapist once a week was like ducking behind an island to get out of the wind and find the stability I needed. In this time dedicated to me, I learned new things about myself, about life, about God. I learned some new ways to live again: to find a healthier pace, to embrace the journey from heartache to hope.
Although I still get caught at times in my need to succeed, still try to rush things along rather than wait on the Spirit’s leading, I am trying to learn something at once both simple and incredibly difficult: the destination is not a place but a person—a person who loves me very much and more than anything wants to be with me along the journey of life. I am much more open these days to the idea that God isn’t all that interested in getting me somewhere. God is just interested in getting me!
One of my favorite journey stories from the Bible is the Israelites’ expedition from Egypt to the promised land. Some of God’s best work, I think. A trip that easily could have been made in less than 40 days had they followed a straight line took 40 years. Their travel log must have resembled the kind of scribbled picture a two-year-old would draw. You have probably heard someone explain their meanderings in this way: “More important than getting the Israelites out of Egypt was getting Egypt out of the Israelites.” Or “The Israelites were lost because Moses wouldn’t stop and ask for directions.” I think their time spent wandering through the wilderness had more to do with God needing to spend quality time with the people (and the people with God) so they could experience God’s faithfulness over and over again.
God wanted them to trust him today. That’s why God provided manna on a daily basis. Consider the definition of manna—“What is it?” They had to trust God to know that this nameless, unidentifiable, perishable whatchamacallit would be enough for now. They were to gather up only what they could consume that day. If they tried to keep some of it overnight, it spoiled. Tomorrow God would provide—again. They couldn’t make it happen—no matter how much they might be driven by hunger. They just had to meander around, collecting manna as it randomly fell from the sky.
But these ancient wanderers were a hardheaded bunch. How else can you explain them witnessing with their own eyes the 10 plagues, the parting of the sea (twice), bread from heaven, water from rocks, quail blown in by the wind, and countless kingdoms obliterated by the awesome power of God—only to whine, beg, and plead to go back to Egypt, back to a life of slavery, back to what was a familiar, linear, predictable way of life?
Maybe God needed 40 years to nurture a new generation of followers who might just “get” him and be willing to follow. Maybe what God wanted most from them, and now us, is a willingness to put one foot in front of the other, step after step, alongside him, no matter the pace or how the path might twist and turn. Maybe God wanted them to grasp a greater purpose for their lives—to be people who would give witness to this unique and awesome God.
Are we eager to get through whatever task or challenge we face in life as quickly as possible, moving steadily from point A to point B to point C, ever closer toward whatever goal we have in mind? The Israelites’ experience reminds us: the spiritual journey doesn’t work that way. In the faith journey, we are not so much racing toward a physical finish line as meandering toward becoming all that God has in mind for us to be. Like the Israelites, our ability to discern and follow God’s leading has far less to do with time in a chronological sense and much more to do with direction.
Steven R. Covey, professor of business management and organization behavior, writes in his best-selling book "First Things First" about how fixated our culture is on the clock. The clock represents our busyness—commitments at work, appointments, tasks, and schedules. The clock symbolizes how we spend our lives. The compass, on the other hand, represents the personal vision, core values, and principles that shape and guide our lives. Covey suggests that we ought to rely more on the compass than the clock, because the compass has more to do with the direction we intend to follow on our journey.
The Old Testament book of Jeremiah finds the people of Israel exiled in Babylon and restless for home. Their growing impatience made them susceptible to the false hope and promises propagated by some prophets who foretold an early release from captivity. These false promises fixated them on the clock. Like little children sitting in the back of the car on a long trip, they kept asking over and over again, “Hey, God, are we there yet?” Caught up in the clock, they lost sight of the compass. So God sent Jeremiah with the message, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope” (Jeremiah 29:11). No timetable. No drivenness.
God’s plan for the people was simple. Maybe that’s why they missed it. Look at the next verses: “Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me” (vv. 12–14). In other words, “When praying, listening, and looking for me become the focus of your lives, you will find me,” says the Lord. “I am your future and your hope!”
The spiritual journey rarely unfolds in a straight line. We go forward and backward, left and right. We make progress, and we fall behind. Sometimes we feel like we are simply standing still. The questions we need to ask ourselves are not, how far have we come? (How long have we been on the road?) How much farther is it? (Or, when will we get there?) Those are clock questions. Rather, we need to ask, am I pointing myself in what I sense through the Spirit to be the right direction? Am I continually orienting myself toward God? Those are compass questions.
Adapted from The Meandering Way: Leading by Following the Spirit, copyright © 2007 by the Alban Institute. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Go to www.alban.org for full article.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
There's no discovery without DISCO!
Do the hustle! Freak Out! Get down on it! If you remember any of these song lyrics then you are probably a child of disco. I was talking to a member of the congregation a few days ago, another “Baby Boomer” like me, about the kind of music we grew up with. She commented on the 70s being her favorite genre, because it took her back to the good times in high school. Even though I attended high school in the late 70s, I was never allowed to listen to that kind of music. It was considered “sinful”. But once I joined the military after graduation I got my fill of 80s music, and I loved it! Disco was an amazing time in my own evolution as a person. It was truly a time of discovery for me. The energy and motion of the dance floor truly made you forget your troubles and get happy!
But it was really hard to dance those crazy dances! I mean, you really had to be coordinated! I watch the kids today and wonder how they are able to play Dance, Dance, Revolution so successfully. I thought I could dance, but when it comes to that kind of dancing, I have two left feet! It was the same with disco…I’m great at free style, but it was really hard for me to learn the moves of John Travolta. But it really didn’t matter whether I got the dance steps right or not on the dance floor. It was like being in a completely different place mentally and spiritually.
Our spiritual journey is like that sometimes too. We occasionally experience the true nature of God to the fullest, and feel the joy that comes from knowing everything is going to be all right. We sometimes feel like we’ve gotten all the steps right, and are moving in synchronicity with the One who guides us through each step of our life. And even if we mess up the steps occasionally, we are assured that the dance is still beautiful, and precious in God’s sight. And we always have the chance to get back on the right foot…back into the DISCOvery of it all.
Our growth as a church has been slow in process these past few years. Yet I have a peace within me that all will be well. Even as the leadership team meets to decrease our budget to match our income, I feel that God is in control. I will most likely be going part-time as your pastor in order to decrease our expenses, and I am giving up my pension for the time being as well. We will have to eliminate several positions, scale back on our expenditures, and most likely simplify our worship experience and outreach programs. But that is okay with me. I am even at peace with it, because I know that I’ve given everything I have to this church. I’ve discovered that no matter what happens in our lives, it’s learning from the experience that determines success. Failure is just a matter of not understanding the learning in the experience.
Success is a process. It takes a goal + purpose + activity to realize it. The goal is something tangible that you want to accomplish. It is an objective that is usually physical in nature or an accomplishment to acquire. The next factor for success is having a purpose for that goal, which is knowing why you want what you want. So often we have goals but we really don’t know why we have them. The third factor for success is activity; doing what it is you do to get what you want.
My goal for Journey Church is to be a light of God’s love and grace to everyone in our community. That means shining the light on the intolerance, homophobia, exclusivity and judgmentalism that pervades our society, and countering it with acceptance, embrace, inclusion and forgiveness. My purpose for this is to be more Christ-like in everything that I do so that I will know the mind of Christ. The activity is teaching what I know and believe to be true about God and myself.
I anticipate a wonderful journey of DISCOvery over the next year. No matter how long we have on this earth to accomplish our ministry together, it will be the most amazing, loving, transformative time we will ever live. And in that living will we discover the boundless grace that exists for us and for the world. I hope you will dance with me! The dance floor is always open, and God is our dance instructor!
Blessings on your journey of DISCOvery!
Pastor Brice
But it was really hard to dance those crazy dances! I mean, you really had to be coordinated! I watch the kids today and wonder how they are able to play Dance, Dance, Revolution so successfully. I thought I could dance, but when it comes to that kind of dancing, I have two left feet! It was the same with disco…I’m great at free style, but it was really hard for me to learn the moves of John Travolta. But it really didn’t matter whether I got the dance steps right or not on the dance floor. It was like being in a completely different place mentally and spiritually.
Our spiritual journey is like that sometimes too. We occasionally experience the true nature of God to the fullest, and feel the joy that comes from knowing everything is going to be all right. We sometimes feel like we’ve gotten all the steps right, and are moving in synchronicity with the One who guides us through each step of our life. And even if we mess up the steps occasionally, we are assured that the dance is still beautiful, and precious in God’s sight. And we always have the chance to get back on the right foot…back into the DISCOvery of it all.
Our growth as a church has been slow in process these past few years. Yet I have a peace within me that all will be well. Even as the leadership team meets to decrease our budget to match our income, I feel that God is in control. I will most likely be going part-time as your pastor in order to decrease our expenses, and I am giving up my pension for the time being as well. We will have to eliminate several positions, scale back on our expenditures, and most likely simplify our worship experience and outreach programs. But that is okay with me. I am even at peace with it, because I know that I’ve given everything I have to this church. I’ve discovered that no matter what happens in our lives, it’s learning from the experience that determines success. Failure is just a matter of not understanding the learning in the experience.
Success is a process. It takes a goal + purpose + activity to realize it. The goal is something tangible that you want to accomplish. It is an objective that is usually physical in nature or an accomplishment to acquire. The next factor for success is having a purpose for that goal, which is knowing why you want what you want. So often we have goals but we really don’t know why we have them. The third factor for success is activity; doing what it is you do to get what you want.
My goal for Journey Church is to be a light of God’s love and grace to everyone in our community. That means shining the light on the intolerance, homophobia, exclusivity and judgmentalism that pervades our society, and countering it with acceptance, embrace, inclusion and forgiveness. My purpose for this is to be more Christ-like in everything that I do so that I will know the mind of Christ. The activity is teaching what I know and believe to be true about God and myself.
I anticipate a wonderful journey of DISCOvery over the next year. No matter how long we have on this earth to accomplish our ministry together, it will be the most amazing, loving, transformative time we will ever live. And in that living will we discover the boundless grace that exists for us and for the world. I hope you will dance with me! The dance floor is always open, and God is our dance instructor!
Blessings on your journey of DISCOvery!
Pastor Brice
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