A Baby Changes Everything . . . .

Wonderful song. I think Faith Hill sings the most recent version I hear on 103.7, the "Christmas" channel on the radio. I hear it a lot and it is a lovely narrative ballad about a single, young, teenage mother who gets pregnant. Society is against her. Her fiance is aghast. And, she is terrified. But as the ballad goes, once the baby comes . . . life and her world is changed forever, to the good. Babies in their innocence and complete and total dependence on us, do that. They change life, forever. Babies, once they come, help us know a glimpse of the power of unconditional love, so strong we as their parents, and those who love them, would die for them. No questions asked. Of course, the song is about Mary and Joseph, and Jesus. This little child, born so long ago into such humble and difficult circumstances, not only changed the lives of his reluctant parents, he changed the lives of all in the world who claim him as their own. Our prayer this season when we recall his birth is that we remember our lives have been changed by him -- and remain so forever by the unconditional love of God, who sent him. This God, our God, known in and through that tiny baby who grew to be a man who loved so much, he died that we may know life, and freedom from sin and death. A blessed Christmas season for all, with prayers that the coming year will be the year when that baby "changed everything" for you.
a.

Judgement

Jesus tells a wonderful story about how we will be judged as human beings in Matthew 25, starting at vs. 31. It is the only time he ever really mentions the criteria for judgement -- and he does it in his weird, Jesus-in-your-face way. He talks about separating animals -- sheep and goats. In his time, at the end of the day when the farmers came in from the pastures where the livestock grazed, they had to count the number to see if they returned home with all the ones they had left with in the morning. And when they counted, the separated sheep and goats. I don't know why -- maybe because sheep don't get along with goats. But, sheep are so dumb and stupid and slow, it seems like they could get along with anybody.
Anyway, Jesus the Good Shepherd, has a soft spot for the sheep, I guess, because he beckons them at judgement to come and sit at his right hand. The goats -- well -- they get consigned in another direction, and go off left -- to eternal hell and damnation.
Pretty tough spot for the goats.
But Jesus didn't have anything against goats. Neither did he express love for sheep more than anyone else. What he had a soft spot for is those who recognized him in others -- particularly others who are in need -- the sick, the sad, the prisoner, the hungry, the lame, the thirsty, the marginalized, the alien among us. What the sheep did that the goats missed was, according to the parable, see him in the faces and lives of others who are usually ignored.
This Sunday, Pastor Grant and I will do a dramatic dialogue sermon between one of the sheep (Sammy) and one of the goats (Greta) to get their personal take on the experience of judgement. Advent is traditionally a time of waiting, but not of comfort -- not the warm cuddly kind. It is a time when we have the Holy Spirit confronting us daily in our encounters with others to see if we, too, recognize the Christ in those nobody cares about, has time for, or wants anything to do with.
Come see -- if you are a sheep -- or a goat.
See you in worship this Sunday.
Pastor a.

Hope Floats

I have never understood that phrase much at all. It was the title of an old Sandra Bullock movie which was (I think) about a woman of questionable reputation coming home after some tragedy and trying to get her life together. She fell in love with a local -- played by Harry Connick, Jr. -- and it ended well. In other words, in the midst of tragedy -- there is hope.
Hope is a funny thing. It is what rises up like a clear bubble in the middle of the muck and mud of our messy lives. Hope, at times, needs to be rearranged. In other words, what we hope for is sometimes a bubble that bursts in the face of life's difficulties. But it can rise again, in another form -- usually, more deliberate and more beautiful than we could ever imagine.
This is the first week of Advent and the theme for this week is simply that: Hope. The world HOPES for salvation, and ultimately a savior comes. But we in the world -- those during Jesus' time as well as those of us living now -- have to rearrange our hope. He wasn't who or what was expected, or even hoped for. On the contrary, he was so much more . . . . .
Advent teaches us to wait, hope and expect -- and one other lesson: nobody, ever, gets to take away -- or get in the way -- of our hope.
It ALWAYS floats.
Come, and share this season as we begin to tell the story of the God who loves us in Jesus the Christ one more time.
a.

The Good Shepherd . . .

I think it is kind of hard for us to relate to all that biblical imagery about sheep and shepherds. Last time I looked, there aren't that many sheep in suburban Dallas. Although, for a number of years we lived right north of the Haggard farm in Plano, and every day when I took my kids to Harrington Elementary School, we passed a bunch of sheep and a few llamas and a donkey or two, plus some cows. It was a pleasant bit of the pastoral and rural smack dab in the midst of Plano. Thank you, Haggard family -- even though news reports just last week said the Haggard family is selling off most of that property for development, and the sheep will be gone.
A pity.
But even with our brief glimpses of the little animals, we didn't truly get an understanding of shepherding -- not like in the days of Ezekiel and later Jesus, who referred to himself as "The Good Shepherd."
Back in the old days -- not the '90's, but biblical times -- shepherds worked 24/7, usually alone with a couple of dogs and on a isolated hillside, where the sheep could find food. Shepherds were low down on the list of people who mattered, yet they were as important as anyone in those societies, not only because they provided food, but because they were a constant presence -- and a quiet and faithful one at that, whose only mission in life was to protect what God had given them -- silly, stupid, wandering, flighty sheep, who were always running off looking for the next best thing to eat over the next hill.
Jesus didn't make that title up regarding himself. It comes right out of the 34th chapter of Ezekiel, a prophet who wrote 600 years before his birth, when the people of Israel were about to lose everything -- home, country, temple and their place in the world -- to the conquering King of Babylon. It was a terrible and difficult time of great anxiety for them, and seemed to be without end.
Ezekiel, never one to mince words, called again and again for them to find the center of their being in God, and return to the core of their faith, and thus protect their existence both as a nation and as individuals. They didn't listen. Silly, stupid, flighty people who kept wandering away from God.
And, ultimately, they did lose everything, just as the Prophet had warned.
But in the 34th chapter, Ezekiel speaks words not of condemnation, or "I TOLD you so." Rather, he brings words of hope and restoration for the people. He talks about God as the only shepherd we need, the one who loves us and cares for us, even and especially when we are lost and alone, even and especially when those silly other things around which we construct our lives fail.
Come this Sunday to worship for the last Sunday of the Christian calendar year, the Feast of the Reign of Christ, our Good Shepherd.
Pastor Grant Palma is preaching and he is always a treat. Don't miss it!!!
a.

Why are these dumb old stories important, anyway?????

Like the story of that cool lady Deborah in the Hebrew Bible's Book of Judges . . . It is a story that has been around for over 3,000 and it is like a combination of CSI and The Mentalist and Dexter and The Good Wife all in one, with an added dose of reality tv thrown in just for grins. Here's the gist: AFTER the Israelites had been busted out of slavery in Egypt by God (and Moses), and AFTER they'd wandered around in the Sinai desert for 40 years, and AFTER they'd been led to the Promised Land by God (and Joshua), they still lived a tentative and relatively nomadic existence for 200 years or so. Each Tribe had its own territory and they didn't intermingle too much - - except when they needed each other. There were ongoing skirmishes with the native Canaanite peoples, and every so often, things got ugly. But mostly, every so often, they completely forgot about God, and turned their lives and focus to gods of their own: money, power, intrigue -- you get the picture. When things got really rough, God would raise up a leader, or 'judge' -- one who was empowered by God to lead the people through whatever rough patch they had encountered. You remember some of these Judges: Samson, Gideon and Jepthah. There were others, too, less notable. But perhaps the most notable was a mere woman, Deborah -- known as a prophetess and wise, 'fiery' leader in her own right. The people were oppressed by a Canaanite king and this went on for 20 years. Finally, they'd had enough. It was time to do battle with their oppressors. Barak was a general -- really the leader of a rag-tag bunch of Israelite guerrilla fighters -- and he was charged with taking on the Canaanites, under the leadership of another General, Sisera. The Hebrews were outmanned, out-armoured, out-spent, and out maneuvered. It looked to be a suicide mission. But Barak did not back away. He just asked Deborah to go to the battle with them. And she did. And, they won! Against all odds, the Israelites won. Not only did they win, every member of the opposing army was killed, except the General, Sisera. He escaped to the hills, and found refuge in the tent of what he thought was a neutral woman, Jael, a Kenite (not Hebrew, but a neighboring tribe). Jael offered him refuge, milk to quench his thirst, and a place to rest and hide. While he slept, she took a tent peg and put it to his temple and hammered it through his brain (yuk!). When Barak and his army came looking for Sisera, he found yet another woman, who had delivered the ultimate victory for them -- all of their oppressors were wiped out.

I think this is a very cool story, and not just because the heroes were actually heroines. The women shine in this tale of deliverance, but God shines brighter. What do we learn? That our God is constant through the ages, and hears our cries of despair. That God has a heart for those who are oppressed. That God provides, and is always vigilant.

All of the above.

But mostly we learn, I think, that God uses whoever God chooses, when and where -- for God's own purposes of mercy and deliverance.

People haven't changed much in 3,000 years. We, like the Hebrews, can be constantly distracted away from the True God. Yet God, fortunately, doesn't get distracted from us or our needs or care.

Yup. Cool story. And very, very important . . . still.

See you in worship this Sunday when we celebrate the story of Deborah, the fiery lady Judge, and her willingness to take part in God's work of redemption.

a.

Top Ten Reasons Not to Attend Worship on Sundays . . .

and here they are . . .
1. The _______________ (insert 'music' and/or 'preaching' and/or 'prayers' and/or 'offering') "just doesn't do it for me".
2. I can worship in other ways.
3. Sunday School class is enough for me.
4. My friends don't go.
5. Sunday is the only time I have to sleep in.
6. My schedule is too busy to make the time.
7. I get bored.
8. It is a waste of my time?
9. My Dallas Cowboys are playing.
And my all-time favorite . . . here it comes . . . are you ready . . . . here goes . . . ............
10. God is not the center of the universe. I am.

Nobody ever says that, of course, they say they other nine -- and other excuses that are equally as self focused, which is the point.
Do you see that the common denominator in all those reasons is "I", "me", or "my"?

Now, granted, there are good reasons for not attending worship on Sundays. But they usually have little to do with "I," "me," or "my" and more to do with care for others: jobs through which we provide for our family; illness; care of sick friends, relatives, doing/caring for others in general, of course.
What we really need to face is our own 'why' -- squarely, and honestly.
So, I ask you --
Think about it.
Just think about it.
Where are you in/on this top ten list, if you are even on it?
Is the last reason really the first reason not to make time for what we are called to do FIRST AND FOREMOST, what we were CREATED TO DO?????
. . . And that is worship the Living God who saves us and makes us healed and whole.

Talk amongst yourselves on this one . . . and I'll see you in worship this Sunday.
a.

Forget Ten Percent, what's a tithe -- REALLY?????

This is what we commonly call 'Stewardship Emphasis' time in the life of our church. Really, every Sunday is 'Stewardship Emphasis' time because each time we worship, we are called to respond to the goodness of God by pledging our entire selves, body, mind and spirit, to God. But, once during the year we make a special emphasis on sharing of resources so that the mission and ministry of Jesus Christ though this church might not only continue, but be expanded. This year, we decided to name the thing most Protestants don't want to name: Tithing. In our Judeo-Christian history, a tithe meant offering ten percent of the first fruits, the best we have, to God. It is all over the Hebrew Scriptures and spoken of in the New Testament as well. But, ten percent is an arbitrary designation when it comes to the best we have, and a tithe really is an emotional commitment to far more than that. On the first week of our Emphasis time, September 11th, we spoke of King David, who, during a war with the Philistines (wasn't he ALWAYS at war with the Philistines????) longed for water from a well near Bethlehem, which they occupied. Three of his mighty warriors stole through enemy lines to bring him a drink, which he promptly poured out as a sacrifice to God.
So, a tithe is a sacrifice, first and foremost. The question we are called to ask is: Is God worth our sacrifice? Certainly, God thought we were worth God's sacrifice -- see Jesus Christ, cross, death, etc. for reference.
The second week, we spoke of the Prophet Jeremiah, who, in the middle of a war -- again, (weren't the ancient Hebrews always at war with someone?????) and while imprisoned himself, buys a field, a plot of land as an investment in the future. Even though the war was sure to be lost, and the people were sure to suffer.
So, a tithe is like a field. The question we are called to ask is: What's our field? And is our field worth stepping out in trust of God?
This week, Pastor Grant Palma will be preaching (his first sermon here, YAY!) on the passage in St. Matthew's gospel where Jesus calls his first disciples.
So, a tithe is calling. And the question we are called to ask is: Who is calling us, and to what? And, is that calling worth sacrifice, trust and investing in a future we cannot even know or see.
Come and share worship this Sunday, hear Pastor Grant, and let the Holy Spirit of God work on your heart and in your life.
Come and share your 'tithe' -- a.

Blessed are the Peacemakers . . . right!

Matthew 18:15-20 is a text about conflict resolution. In fact, Jesus could be considered an expert mediator in that text. In it, he gives clear directives as to how those whose business is peacemaking are required to operate: directly naming the issue that is the source of the conflict TO the people who are involved. Try to work things out one on one, he says. That is ALWAYS better than going to a third party, or harboring resentment and anger internally and saying nothing. If that doesn't work, bring in the experts (in this case the faith community) -- first the priest/pastor, then the leaders/elders. Try to work things out. If THAT doesn't work -- separate, but remain connected to one another, in love and with grace. When Jesus says "treat them as tax collectors and Gentiles" we all need to remember how he treated tax collectors and Gentiles: as valued friends, despite differences, despite what his culture said about them.
He loved them.
I really love this text because I have developed a life's passion for peacemaking, and to me it says it all: the how, the why, and the who. In fact, in this text, Jesus calls us TO conflict when it arises, not to duck and run from it as we usually do. There is a role for the church to play in all this -- especially in its witness of modeling this kind of peacemaking in the world today.
Man, we really need peacemakers here and now. Not only on personal and local levels -- church, school, families, extended families, among friends. We need real peacemakers on a national, global level as well. We just experienced a long, hot summer where leaders in our nation couldn't even make the first directive: talk face to face without assuming the other is 1. wrong; and 2. intractable. What we got: deadlock all round, and lots of others, innocents, hurt in the process. So, we need to take Christ seriously when he says, "blessed are the peacemakers" and BE peacemakers. We can do this by addressing perceived ills in our own lives directly, with truth in love. And, together as His Church, we can take it from there.
Let me know what you think -- talk amongst yourselves. And, come Sunday to learn more about how we can do this, and each in our own way, transform the world in the name of Jesus Christ.
a.

The Crux of the Matter

"Do not be overcome by evil, rather overcome evil with good."
So St. Paul tells the new church in Rome, right before he is about to sign off his famous letter to them. This Letter, an early part of the Christian scriptural canon, contains the crux, the very core of Christian theological proclamation: that God has formed a new relationship with humanity through the person and work of Jesus Christ, who saves us from our sins and brings complete healing. The way we understand what God has done and is doing in Christ is "by grace through faith." This Letter has been definitive for our understanding of the core of Christianity almost since the very beginning. In fact, some argue there would BE no Christian faith had not Paul of Tarsus, the Apostle who never met the earthly Jesus, only the Resurrected one, articulated so clearly the basic faith. Be that as it may, in the first part of the Letter, Paul sets forth the theology. In the second section, chapters 13-15, Paul gives a basic directive, dependent on that theology: it does no good unless Christian belief is part of Christian witness, part of the everyday lives of Christians. Christ lives through us; God saves through Christ; the world needs the example of Christ, lived-out through in small and practical ways by all who claim to be His disciples.
The preaching text this week is part of that section: 12:9-21. It is a beautiful part which begins with "Let love be genuine." And,it gets better from there:
"hate what is evil,
hold fast to what is good;
love one another with mutual affection;
outdo one another in showing honor.
Do not lag is zeal,
be ardent in spirit,
serve the lord.
Rejoice in hope,
be patient in suffering,
persevere in prayer.
Contribute to the needs of the saints;
extend hospitality to strangers.
Bless those who persecute you;
bless and do not curse them . . . . ."
There's so much more. You'll just have to read it. But the final verse is the most convicting to me: "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."
Our world is no different in many ways from Paul's world, the Greco-Roman world of 2,000 years ago. Evil abounds, and it is almost always pretty and enticing.
According to St. Paul, the only way to make Christ real and alive in the face of it is to live as Christ did, and as Christ commands us to do also.
That's the 'crux of the matter.'
Talk amongst yourselves and let me know if you agree.
a.

Mudwrestling with God . . .

You gotta know the backstory: twins who hated each other, and fought constantly. One, big, brawny, and maybe not so bright. The other, smaller, smarter, quicker and 'graspy' -- all for him, nothing for anyone else. He was the center of the universe, and if he forgot that fact, his mother reminded him. He was her favorite. Twin Two steals not one, but two valuable things from slower Twin One. Twin One explodes in anger, threatening to kill Twin Two. Twin Two, smaller and more wiley -- escapes and hides out at the home of relatives in the East. Years pass. Parents die. Families grow. Twins One and Two have had no contact. Twin Two gets older, wiser, and yearns for home. So, he packs up the fam and heads in that direction. It is a long, long trip. They are camping along the way. They reach a river, and he knows Twin One is on the other side waiting for him to cross. He also knows he has to face what he has done, what he has stolen from his only brother. But it is night, and he won't cross the river to face what he knows he deserves as the consequences of his past, selfish actions. Not just yet. Everyone else is sleeping but he can't. He is alone at the river. And in the dark, a stranger appears. No words are exchanged and he can't see the stranger's face. But the stranger attacks him -- and they wrestle. The fight and fight in the dark until dawn. As the day breaks, neither has won -- and Twin Two has, finally, the upper hand. He won't turn the stranger loose until the stranger cries 'uncle' -- and blesses him. The stranger does, and in the blessing, changes his name. He is no longer Twin Two, graspy and selfish . He is now the "one who has struggled with God." Or, "Israel." Twin Two, now in older middle age -- is finally a man. He has faced God, and his own demons -- and come away, not broken, but changed. He will go on to be a good father of great people -- people charged to bring such wrestling to the world -- in order that it might be changed, as well. Twin Two/aka Israel does come away wounded, however -- marked for life in his hip joint. He limps. He who wrestled with God was not vanquished, but transformed forever. He now is marked, with courage and hope.
We'll be talking about Jacob on Sunday -- come and join the conversation.
a.

What does God "expect" of us?

We know what God requires of us from the prophet Micah. He says it clearly: "What does the Lord require of you? To do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God." But requirements are different than expectations, aren't they?
We are required to pay taxes, but we are expected to behave according to the laws set up by the entities those taxes support.
We are required to have car insurance, but we are expected to drive in such a way as to NOT have to use that insurance.
We are required to go to school, but we are expected to get something out of that schooling.
In our texts this week (Matthew 13:31-33; 44-52), Jesus is talking not about requirements for discipleship, but rather expectations. By this time in Matthew's Gospel, he's has pretty much set up the requirements for discipleship. It is all in Chapters 5-7, what we know as "The Sermon on the Mount."
Required for disciples of Jesus is a passion for justice, unconditional love and provision for those in need, acceptance of others no matter our differences, a heart filled with mercy, and keen devotion to God.
Expected of those disciples: Do this -- all of the above.
Jesus once again tells parables in this section of Matthew. He's on a parable roll, it seems. Here he's talking about the Kingdom of God being LIKE a mustard seed, yeast, a buried treasure, a fine piece of jewelry, and a net full of fish that needs to be sorted. Translation: the Kingdom of God is recognized through faith, even when it is small; it is subtle and surreptitious and spreads like leavening, quiet and on its own timeframe; it is a treasure worth sacrificing everything for; it is as precious as the most precious pearl; and there will be judgement (hence, the fish-sorting story).
In this last section, Jesus speaks directly to the disciples and, basically, says to them: DO THIS -- all of the above. To paraphrase, he says, basically: "You are the ones who have been given a glimpse and knowledge of the Kingdom. You are my disciples. I EXPECT that you will see that it happens, today -- here and now -- by being people of justice, mercy and humility in my own name."
Requirements, sometimes, can make us feel like we have fallen short when we don't meet all of them. I find expectations, however, to be far more appealing where behavior and decisions are concerned. We don't want to disappoint. In this case, Jesus has high expectations for anyone presuming to claim the mantle of discipleship. And, we don't want to disappoint Jesus most of all, do we?
Talk amongst yourselves and letme know what you think.
a.

What's a parable?

Yeah, we all know what a parable is: a story that is not really a story, but sort of a riddle -- with a point we may or may not get.
Half-right.
A parable is a story, from everyday life, which tells of bigger meaning in everyday life, using the things and people of everyday life.
For Jesus, parables seemed to be his favorite way of talking, his favorite way of telling. And, he was ALWAYS telling stories about one thing: the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Heaven. He was ALWAYS trying to illustrate what it IS like (note present tense, as in PRESENT REALITY, as in "the KINGDOM IS AT HAND"). This Sunday's scripture is from the section in St. Matthew's Gospel that is almost nothing but Jesus telling parables, chapter 13. There's just one after the other, after the other, and they are all about the reality of the Kingdom of Heaven, what it looks like, what it feels like, what it IS like. A couple of times in all this telling, the disciples get perplexed because to them (and to us) those parables seem like riddles. But he calms them, and explains, giving answers to their confusion. This week, Matthew 13:1-9; 18-23, he explains about how the Kingdom is based on the Word of God, which is like a farmer who sows seeds indiscriminately in his fields. Some seeds land where the birds come and eat them. Some seeds land on rocks and thus get no root. Some seeds land on soil that is not deep and they can't grow. Some seeds land where the sun parches them and they die. But a few, just a few, land on fertile soil with all the right conditions for growth. And these few provide a rich and bountiful harvest, a harvest so great it is hard to even imagine.
Later he explains:
God is the sower, and God's word is the seed. It is out there, provided for us richly and lavishly. God's word either takes root, or it doesn't.
But here's the clincher: God doesn't just sow once, but again and again and again and again through every season imaginable, every harsh condition for growth, including flood and drought . . . God is tireless and relentless in pursuit of us, no matter what. And God's word is eternal. It will not die.
Jesus tells a nice story here with the sole purpose of giving hope and meaning to our everyday lives.
THAT'S a parable. A good one.
a.

The Worst Story in the Bible . . .

. . . is the Akedah, or commonly called The Binding of Isaac. It is found in Genesis 22:1-14. If you don't know it, the story goes like this: God commands Abraham to go to the "holy mountain" and there to build an altar upon which to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac. This is the SAME son that God has promised to be the heir of the covenant, and through whom children too numerous to count will descend. (The logic, then, of God making such a demand is questionable). As the story goes, Abraham does as commanded, and the boy (we don't know how old he was but we know he could walk) Isaac accompanies his father, carrying the wood for the altar fire. When they get to the appointed place, Abraham does as he is charged: he binds the boy, lays him on the altar and hoists the knife to kill him. But just in time, an Angel of the Lord appears and directs Abraham to a ram caught in the brambles nearby. The ram is sacrificed instead.
I hate this story!
What was God thinking????
It is an abhorent request. As a mother, it infuriates me. I can only imagine what Sarah must have thought -- if she ever even knew.
Through the centuries, Jews, Christians and Muslims all have tried to unlock its meaning. It is in the Qu'ran, too. Most argue it is a story of Abraham's obedience and faith, that God knew what God was doing in making that request. There are some who offer it was Abraham rather than God who was doing the testing. Perhaps. Some argue that it was the ancient Hebrew's way of condemning what was common practice among the Semitic people of the era (1500+/- B.C.E.): child sacrifice. The One True God, YHWH, rather than demanding child sacrifice as the pagan gods were thought to do, actually was against it and not shy about proving that. Interesting. Maybe . . . ? I rather adhere to another interpretation: that God was pushing Abraham (and us) to turn loose of what we hold dearest in the world, entrusting it to God's faithful care. That makes more sense to me. I guess you could argue that interpretation is about faith, as well. But it also is about trust -- trusting that there is nothing, no one in our lives that we can love more than God loves them. I like that . . . because it is not only reassuring, it is also convicting. It is a warning against idolatry in whatever form it presents itself, that is -- turning ourselves, or others, or things into 'gods' in our lives, making them the central focus of our existence, instead of the One who created us and calls us to service for good. To understand that interpretation, we need to view sacrifice not as "killing" but rather as "freeing up." I like it, too, because it seems like that is exactly what God did those centuries later, on Calvary. There, the One so precious to God, God's own Incarnate Son, was loosed to the world. It didn't turn out so well, either. There was no ram caught in the brambles at Golgotha. Yet, in that real and grizzly sacrifice -- in the "killing" sense of the word -- God gave to us the possibility for eternal freedom in God and God alone. Maybe, then, the Akedah is the Second Worst Story in the Bible -- but ties with the Cross for turning out the best.
Talk amongst yourselves . . . and let me know what you think.
a.

The Work of Creation __________________...

Fill in the blank.
The work of creation -- goes on.
The work of creation -- is finished.
The work of creation -- is described in Genesis, blah . . . blah . . . blah . . . .
The work of creation -- is boring.
The work of creation -- is evolving.
The work of creation -- is just a story.
The work of creation -- is amazing.
And so on.
This weeks Scripture passage takes us back to the very taproot of the Bible: Genesis 1-2:4a. It is the story of how and why God created the world. Not much about when, however. Timeframe -- we just don't know. It speaks of a God so magnificent and powerful as to be ABLE to create something/everything out of a big black hole. It speaks of a God so meticulous as to be able to PLAN that all things work together for the good of that same creation. It speaks of a God so involved with this creation that there is NO LINE OF SEPARATION from it. It speaks of a
God so pleased with the work as to prounounce it, over and over and over again, "GOOD!" How does it feel to be a part of that creation, still? Don't think about it much? Maybe you should . . . because it is pretty overwhelming that the same God who made all of this, cared enough for it to dive into to it full-force in the person of Jesus of Nazareth -- no matter the consequences. It is also pretty reassuring to know that the same God who made it, and cares so much for it, is still involved, active and present -- with no plans to turn it or us looose. This Sunday, June 19th, is Trinity Sunday: Creator/Redeemer/Sustainer = One God = Our God. Father/Son/Holy Spirit.
Come, and give thanks for YOUR creation as we worship together, and remember our partnership in it with God that we sometimes -- oftentimes -- forget.
a.

Carried Away

I just got home from a brief trip to Las Vegas, a gift to my daughter as a belated 21st birthday present. I have never been to Vegas, and it was quite an experience. I don't gamble. Rarely drink, and usually champagne if at all. I don't shop at high-end expensive shops like Gucci and Versace. I do love Broadway shows and we saw two. I also love the desert air, and it was wonderful. But I got completely carried away by two things: Hoover Dam and people watching. I'd always seen pictures of Hoover Dam, but never have been there. It is such a magnificent testimony not only to human ingenuity, but also to the role government can and should play in a crisis. It was a WPA project in the Depression and put thousands of people back to work in it the 1930's and early 1940's in its construction. A magnificent sight, to be sure. I also got carried away watching people come and go from various perches around Vegas: lunch at the grand hotels, on the sidelines in the casinos, walking up and down the strip. I saw lots of other people "carried away" by booze, drugs, solicitation, overindulgence, overspending, and of course, losses at the gaming tables. You name the human sin, and Vegas has an opportunity for it -- in spades. It dawned on me that Jesus got carried away, too. Literally, on a cross. Literally, up from a grave. Literally, up into heaven on that mountaintop after his resurrection. This Sunday is Ascension Sunday, when we remember that this Incarnate Son of God got carried away, back to the place from which he had come. But he left one thing as a great act of trust: us. He placed the future of his Reign in this world in the hands of disciples who, on any given day, get carried to places we dare not even imagine. Yet, that is what he did, with the great assurance of his final words: "I am with you until the end of time."
When have you been "carried away"? Talk amongst yourselves . . . and come to worship on Sunday, when we'll celebrate this Feast in style and remembrance.
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Stones.

My family's homestead is at the end of mile long gravel driveway. The driveway itself is ancient, an old path used by the local Native Americans to get to the Mississippi River. It cuts through ancient hills just south of the city of Vicksburg. As a child, I was afraid to go down that driveway by myself until I was old enough to ride my bike, which I eventually did a lot on that loose gravel. Often, on my travels I would stop and look at the rocks in the gravel. They fascinated me because they were all different, all beautiful -- and all difficult to ride on in a bike. If you turned it just so, you'd spin out and they would pop up and hit you and it hurt. Trust me. Stones . . . it seems our life is made up of lots of stones, some beautiful, all different, and many difficult, rearing up to smack us at times. But there is one stone that remains secure and safe. It is the one the writer of the 1st letter of Peter refers to in the second chapter, vs. 2-10: "Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God's sight." The writer goes on: " . . . like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ." Christ, we remember, was the "stone that the builders rejected" who was "the cornerstone, chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame." When life hurts, when others throw hard things at us, when we stumble and fall, when we spin out in loose gravel, it is Him who binds our wounds and holds us together, loved and treasured -- and forgiven. And so, it should be easy to remember that we, as his people, are bound as chosen, "a royal priesthood, a holy nation . . . in order that we might proclaim the mighty acts of the one who. . . called us out of darkness into his marvelous light." All of this because, in Him, we have and know God's abiding mercy and love.
When have you been "stoned?"
Talk Amongst Yourselves.
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Prayer for Peace

I usually write about the week's upcoming Gospel passage here. But, given the extraordinary events of this last weekend with the death of Osama bin Laden, and the outpouring of so much sentiment, I feel compelled to share with you a prayer instead. So, when and if you read this, please forward it on as you are able and so moved:

O, Lord of all people, of all Creation, hear our prayer this day. Your holy scriptures tell us not to rejoice in the fall of our enemies. But, we confess, dear Lord of Mercy, that it is hard not to do such rejoicing, especially in the face of such wanton evil that rears its head in such a profound, life-altering way as terrorism. We stand small before it, yet strong in you and for this strength we pray, and beg your hearing: Lord give us strenght --
Strength to pray for our enemies, as Jesus commanded us;
Strength to have compassion for those duped into hurting us and themselves, with the lie that it is faithful to your own calling;
Strength to remember those who have fallen protecting us -- those brave and stalwart souls, innocents all -- who gave their lives that others may not be risked; and their families, who have suffered such devastating loss;
Strength to lift our men and women in the armed forces who work so hard to protect us, and to live lives of integrity in the process; for their families, who sacrifice so much;
Strength to have courage to stand for what is right, and good, and loving, and forgiving -- no matter the circumstances;
Strength to hear the calling of Jesus Christ -- to give witness by our very lives to a new reality, the presence of your Reign of Hope and Love, that this never waiver.
Strength to beg forgivness for ourselves, that we may be agents of forgiveness to others;
Strength to pray for our national leadership, no matter our political persuasion;
Strength to serve as we are called to do -- in your name, with no barriers and no reservation.
Amen.

Doubt means Faith -- Talk amongst yourselves . . .

In this week's Gospel passage, poor old Thomas has issues. Not only is he terrified because of Jesus' crucifixion, he has a hard time buying the whole bit about the Resurrection. I have always had a soft spot for Thomas -- because when he doubts the veracity of such a bold proclamation, I think he resonates with all of us on some level. "Oh, yeah, right -- sure . . . risen from the dead. Tell me more about maybe fairies and leprechauns or something . . . ". That's the kind of attitude I think he had, and justifiably so. "Not until I see the NAIL MARKS ON HIS HAND will I believe," he proclaims to the other disciples. And so, Jesus comes again -- and shows him. And Thomas says the most incredible thing when he sees the blessed and torn hands of the Risen Lord: "My Lord and my God!!!"
Jesus never had a problem with doubters. They abounded in his story and they still abound in ours. All of us are doubters at one time or another. To me, doubting simply means you ask questions, and by asking them, are searching ways to process what sometimes means the illogical and the improbable about faith in God through Christ. Thomas was a faithful disciple, and the legend has that he was the one to make it all the way to the subcontinent of India to plant Christian communities there which still exist to this day. Thomas, it could be said, went a long way in doubt -- all the way to faith. And Jesus loved him for it.
Come this Sunday, worship, pray, question -- and doubt if you like. Associate Pastor Brady Waters will be preaching about Thomas and his beautiful encounter with the Lord of Hope and Peace, Jesus Christ. See you in church!
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"See you Ee-tah!"

Many years ago, when my nieces were very young, Ted and I traveled home to Mississippi from Texas for every holiday. The little girls were always so glad to see us and we treasured our time watching them grow up, albeit in spurts from our Texas vantage point. The youngest, Catherine, was about two and barely talking one year when we left on Sunday afternoon to return to Texas after a Valentine's Day visit. She stood at the door of my mother's home, and waved and waved, and shouted, "See you Ee-tah!" Translation: "See you Easter!" I don't quite know how she knew that Easter was the next holiday on the calendar, but she did. And she was, even at that young age, excited about it. She knew we'd be back to love her, give our undivided attention to her and, generally, have a blessed time together. She sensed it and wasn't afraid, in her tiny little voice, to express the joy it would bring, even though there would be a long and painful separation in between. Easter 2011 is just around the corner -- a week from Sunday. We begin our journey through Holy Week this Palm Sunday with a remembrance of Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem, a time of great joy and hope. Then, we continue our worship with a remembrance of his passion, suffering and death, a time of extreme sadness and despair -- recalling the time of long and painful separation in between the great joy of the palms and the great tragedy of the crucifixion. There is no going from joy to joy -- that is not realistic, and it is not life. There is always sadness in between. During this Holy Week, we will claim the sadness, and we will claim the sin. We will claim the tragedy of his innocent suffering, all the while claiming the gift of forgiveness, compassion, joy and hope that IS Easter with great anticipation. I invite you to come and be present this week for worship. Palm Sunday at regular worship times, 8:30; 9:45 and 11; Holy Thursday at 7 pm, as we remember Christ's gift of the Eucharist before his death; Good Friday at 7 pm, for a beautiful Service of Tennebrae. Then, in those blessed words of hope and anticipation from a beautiful small child so long ago, I hope and pray we "See you Ee-tah!" a.

The Lazarus Effect . . .

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought there was an old science fiction movie entitled "The Lazarus Effect." Maybe there is. But when I googled that title, what came up is a book of that same title about some kind of science fiction resurrection on another planet or something. What also came up is an upcoming HBO special set to air at the end of May about the restorative, healing power of free drugs to help combat HIV/AIDS in Africa. It is all about new life, and healing. And, life after death. Such was the story of Lazarus in the 11th chapter of St. John's Gospel. I hope you know the fundamentals of that story because it was this miracle, this sign that Jesus performed that ultimately caused his crucifixion. Jesus had three good friends, siblings Mary, Martha and Lazarus. They were close to him and he to them. Jesus was away from their home in Bethany on one of his ministerial excursions, and for some reason Lazarus died. We don't know why. Word reached Jesus of the death of his friend, and for some reason, Jesus did not immediately cancel his plans and return to the side of Mary and Martha. He delayed. So, Lazarus was buried in a tomb and was there -- three whole days. Good and dead, to be sure. Finally, Jesus did go to the sisters and both chided him about not coming sooner. They had suffered a terrible loss and they needed their friend. They NEEDED his support in their grief. They NEEDED his power, his ministry, his care. He finds his way through their grief and the public grieving of all their friends and neighbors and goes to the tomb. First, he prays, asking God's help and promising to give glory to God. Then, he calls Lazarus forth from the tomb into new, resurrected life. The religious authorities were completely flumoxed -- and vowed then and there not only to kill Jesus, but also Lazarus, the living evidence of life in Christ. This passage is loaded with God-talk. It is filled with any number of theological issues on which we can hang our Christian hat. Most remarkably, and obviously, it is surely a foretelling of Jesus' own resurrection which is just down the road. But it also makes us thing about who we are in relation to Jesus and new life. Perhaps, it is his invitation to die to what is killing us -- sin, selfishness, anger, unforgiveness, lack of compassion for others, avarice, greed . . . well, the list goes on. Perhaps, in this invitation to die, we can fully claim the charge to rise again in him, and live life abundantly with and it him. Death is never easy. It always causes grief for those affected by such loss. It is the same for death to sin, selfishness, all of the above . . . we may grieve for those ways, for that way of being. What is lost may seem a lot easier that living freely into new life. In this story, we are given not only the promise of new life, but the way TO that life, the man who is Christ himself. So, it begs the question: Are we living evidence of life in Christ? If so, how? If not, why not? Talk amongst yourselves . . . .see you in worship this Sunday as we discuss "The Lazarus Effect." a.

"Open Your Eyes!"

This is what Jesus tells the blind man in the lovely story of healing in the 9th chapter of St. John's Gospel. This is AFTER, of course, onlookers ask Jesus what "sin" the man, or his parents have committed that he would be so stricken. Isn't this always the case? We, in our humanity, always seek to find some logic in tragedy. And our feeble human logic usually starts with cause and effect: in other words, who/what is to BLAME? The reality is, this is fruitless, useless and down right illogical. Things happen. Life is life. We are not God, and although it is permissible to ask why, we have to be content with Jesus' answer: Nothing. Neither the young man, nor his parents, did anything, any 'sin' to cause his malady. Rather, Jesus says, "it is so that God's works might be revealed in him." What if we applied this to every "why" question we ask when we encounter suffering, loss and tragedy in our own lives, the lives of those around us, and in this world? Perhaps, we would learn to ask the right question, not "why" did God do this, but rather "what" is God doing in the midst of it? In the blind young man's case, God was healing through presence, power and the love of another -- God's own son, Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps, this week is an opportunity for us to finally SEE how God operates in Christ: compassionately, kindly, lovingly, and CONSTANTLY. As His disciples, we are called to no less on his behalf. Pastor Brady Waters brings a good word on this Sunday in his examination of this passage. Come -- and SEE! a.

When Jesus meets his match . . . Talk Amongst Yourselves

The Woman at the Well -- Samaritan, foreigner, WOMAN, of questionable reputation, alone, vulnerable and tired -- all of the above. When she met Jesus, she had just about had enough of life as usual for it was hard, and complicated. The scripture (St. John's Gospel, Chapter 4) tells us he was in HER territory. Their communities historically didn't like each other, based on hundreds of years of tribal animosities. It was mid-day, and she was about doing her work, women's work of carrying water to and from her home in large, heavy jars. The water well, known by both communities as a place of historical note, was still used to supply water for people and livestock. She was tired, and maybe mad -- at least not in a great mood -- and certainly didn't need some Galilean Jew harassing her. I can just imagine her, hand on hip, curt of tongue, used to the verbal insults of other men, first trying to ignore him, and then, ready for him. She wasn't about to take any grief from this outsider, and stranger -- this MAN.
And Jesus, it seems, was ready for her, seeing, sensing in her something others didn't -- her weariness, her strength, and most of all, her worth as a child of God.
And so, the Kingdom of God expanded a bit that day -- actually, a lot. Not only was their rather heated exchange a revelation for her, but through her an entire community of Samaritans, foreigners . . . . all of the above and more, came to know God a little better that day. God, that day, and in the three days to follow, walked in their midst, breathed in their air, and shared with them "living water."
This week, Rev. Mary Martin, pastor at FUMC Poetry and Intern Pastor at FUMC Sachse preaches all three services on this text. I can't wait to hear what this lovely woman preacher has to say about this lovely Samaritan woman, who became much more than a disciple of the Jew from Nazareth. She became an example for us all of how to meet Jesus when he meets us . . . in our own territory.
Come, hear, listen, and learn about "living water". a.

Heavenly Things: ". . . on earth as it is . . . ".

Nicodemus comes by night to Jesus asking questions. He's a leader in his faith community, one of the Pharisees. He seems confused for such a religious man. Uncertain. Tentative. Anxious. Curious, even. You can tell by what he blurts out when he sees Jesus: "'Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God." (Take a breath, man). (John 3:2, NRSV) Jesus cuts right to the chase. Forget the small talk. What you want to know is this: What's in it for me, Nicodemus? Where is God? What does God want? How can I make sense of this very confusing thing called faith? And so, Jesus replies: "'Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.'"
Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? "Born . . . again"???? Nicodemus, like you and I would do, to be sure, immediately literalizes what Jesus has to say about understanding how the Kingdom of God operates, exists -- IS. Then Jesus goes on to explain: flesh is flesh; Spirit is Spirit. One understands "heavenly things," he says, when one is open to the work, the blowing wind, of the Spirit of God. Heavenly things are not "out there" in some vast expansive universe of our imagination. Heavenly things are what the Spirit of God is doing here and now, in, as one theologian put it, the very depths of our lives. Heavenly things are less about angels and clouds and eternal bliss and more about justice, and mercy, and the calling to compassion for others. Being "born again" is a process that has perplexed people since the time of poor Nicodemus. For us, it is not a one time, mountain-top experience of salvation. Zap -- you are born again and you're done. Heavenly things are in the daily slug through life, often life in the depths, each alongside the other -- living together in God's abundant grace, and making every effort each day to be better, and make the world better for others in the name of the One who died on a cross to make it better for us.
What do you think about that?
Talk amongst yourselves . . . and let me know.
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What is most tempting? Talk Amongst Yourselves

It is officially, today, Lent, the season in which we prepare for 40 days and nights to follow Jesus to the cross and then, His Resurrection . This week's preaching text, St. Matthew's Gospel 4:1-11, is about the temptation of Jesus in the desert by the Devil. It is a familiar text to most of us. There's a version of it in all three of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke). One way or another we've heard it in church more than once. It is an interesting text in that the Devil, or the "Tempter" tries to provoke Jesus with really one thing: the human need to exercise ultimate power. It is the same thing the Tempter in the form of a snake dangled in front of Adam and Eve in Genesis: Go ahead, eat the fruit and ". . . you will be like God. . . "! In Matthew's text, the Tempter keeps saying, "IF (my emphasis) you are the Son of God, THEN __________. . ." . Every time, there is an issue of power: IF . . . then --turn stones into bread and eat for you are famished. IF . . . .then jump from the Temple and prove your own omnipotence. IF . . . you worship me, then you can have -- all the money and control in the world. And, every time, Jesus meets the temptation with Scripture. Every time, he stares into this human frailty, and fills it with the Word of God. Finally, Satan goes away, to return later . . . much later. At the foot of the cross, the Tempter's faceless voice rises once again, "IF . . . you are the Son of God, come down from that cross . . . ".
What is it about power and control that is so tempting to us? WHY do we need to "be like God"? It was a foregone conclusion that Jesus, as the Son of God, could resist this kind of evil. Yet in his humanity, he clearly knew and understood our weaknesses, particularly this kind of weakness -- to power and control. Ultimately, it was this sin that crucified him. Talk amongst yourselves, and let me know your thoughts.
And, have a blessed Lenten season.
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"OMG!!! Its GOD!!!"...Talk Amongst Yourselves

This Sunday is Transfiguration Sunday. In the Christian calendar, this feast day falls on the Sunday right before the beginning of Lent. Lent, this year, begins with Ash Wednesday on March 9th. Transfiguration Sunday recalls the Scriptural accounting of when Jesus took his friends (Peter, James and John) up on a mountainside and was 'transformed' -- or transfigured -- before their very eyes into a vision of the Divine. He is also accompanied in this transfiguration by the Lawgiver, Moses, and the Prophet, Elijah -- both long-dead. It is a strange accounting, as Jesus also says to his friends, the only spectators, never to tell anyone. And, we really aren't sure why he chose those friends, and that time, and that particular place. But all three of the synoptic have this accounting. Transfiguration means to change, literally change the outside to match what is on the inside. Jesus 'changed' himself, and revealed such a startling and magnificent view of God, it was almost too much for the three apostles to comprehend. They didn't know what to do with it. My question is, do we?
I refer this week to my friend and former teacher Rev. Dr. John Holbert, whose written a wonderful column on the whole idea of witnessing the Divine. This is on the very cool, very informative site -- NOTE -- Patheos.com, a site devoted to the study and understanding of spirituality and multiple faith traditions. John examines a predecessor text to the Gospel accountings, Exodus 24:12-18. This tells the story of Moses, Joshua, and assorted Israelite priests also getting to view God (aka "YHWH"), on a mountaintop (Sinai) long before Jesus ever was born. John ponders whether you and I, today, in our age of instantaneous internet connections and ever-changing, space-age technology, are still able and even wanting or willing to try and grasp the wonder and mystery of the Triune God.
Good question, John. I wonder it, too.
Talk amongst yourselves and let us know.
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John's post is under the Religion Portal on Patheos.com under "Mainline Protestant." Check it out!

Jesus says, "'So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today.'" (Mt. 6:34)
Well, ain't that the truth????!!!!
But it is also easier said that done. In the center of St. Matthew's version of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus talks about managing the anxieties of everyday life. He gives a calming, soothing word about not getting hooked into the myriad things every day that cause us to have stress, and for some of us, stress that makes us die too young. He uses as examples some of the most beautiful things in all creation -- birds in the air, lilies of the field - and says God provides for them lavishly. So, he asks, why will not our loving, providing God (who created us all) provide for us as well. Because of God's own faithfulness, we have no reason to believe otherwise.
Keep your focus, Jesus says, on LIVING the Kingdom of God. He has repeated that theme constantly in this Sermon, and does in yet again with these words on how silly it is to worry.
"Trust God!" he says. "Trust God!" God keeps promises.
Okay. Good words. They always bring a sense of peace when we read/share them. Yet, how many of us are scrambling every day to live in the midst of anxieties swirling around us from every direction: family, job, friends, community, even church. Most of us struggle to stay upright in it all.
Jesus' words we know are true and good. He doesn't lie or let us down.
So, why can't we do what he asks?
Talk amongst yourselves . . . and tell me.
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about "turning the other cheek."

We often hear this scripture from St. Matthew's Gospel quoted: ". . . if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; (5:39b). We usually take it on surface value -- don't strike back. However, we need to look deeper. In Jesus' time it was an act of defiance, not submission. In other words, rather than striking back, turning to offer the other cheek was, in essence, saying, "Hit me again. I'll still be here and you will STILL have to deal with me." In a way, we saw that same kind of response unfold with the non-violent protests in Egypt over these last two weeks. The protesters did not give in to violence -- even when violence was thrust upon them. And, guess what -- it worked. It worked like Ghandi's worked to change things for the better in Indian 60+ years ago. It worked like Martin Luther King's worked to bring about desegregation in the South 50+ years ago. Not without difficulty, but it worked.
"Hit me again. I'll still be here and you will STILL have to deal with me. I won't give in to that kind of violence, that kind of relationship. And, I won't submit to your abuse. You don't get that kind of power over me. You can't have it. I won't give it to you. I will give you love, instead."
That's what Jesus is saying. And, think about it -- that's what he did when confronted with the absolute worst of humanity's capacity for violence at his own crucifixion.
Talk about it -- and let me know your thoughts.
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about forgiveness ... .

Matthew 5:21-24.
Jesus talks pretty squarely about the Law in the continuation of the conversation he's started in the previous verses. This is the opening chapter of Matthew's Sermon on the Mount. But, as important as the Law, the Torah, was to him and his constituency, he takes it one step further -- putting face and hand and heart into it. For example, when discussing murder -- he says forget about the state of being mad enough to kill, even simply being angry with another makes us subject to God's judgment. Insulting another -- same. Calling someone "fool" or "stupid" -- same, but with the fires of hell added to the judgment mix.
He goes on: don't bother to come to church if you know that any brother or sister has something against you. First, go and be reconciled to them . . . then, bring what you have to offer to God and worship freely, and with a good conscience.
Wow!!!
Powerful, convicting -- yes, INDICTING words.
Proposition: we cannot honor God unless we forgive one another.
Discussion: how in God's name are we able to DO this?
Because, forgiveness is the hardest thing we are required to do as Christians, I think. And yet, that is exactly his command. We can't really live without it.
Why is it so important?
Let me know what you think . . .
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Make Your Own Beautitudes

This week's preaching Scripture is from the Gospel of St. Matthew, the 5th chapter -- a familiar text, to be sure: the Beautitudes (5:1-12).
These are the "Blessed are the _____________, for _________________ . . . you can fill in the blanks.
Jesus was in teaching mode here, according to Matthew. There were lots of people hungry to hear him, and ready to listen. These are, according to the Evangelist, the first words of Christian teaching. Real disciples follow them. Divine commandments, as it were, calling for a higher kind of right-living that sets those who follow apart from others who do not.
Proposition: Jesus sets a really, really high standard of behavior for his disciples.
Question: Is it too high for us to follow, even too high to aim for?
Here's what I think:
Christian discipleship is not easy. It never was meant to be. Look what happened to Jesus the Christ himself? Things didn't exactly turn out so well for him in human terms.
If we don't aim for this standard of behavior, we are not truly his disciples. That seems pretty clear. Yet we are pulled constantly away from this kind of "blessedness". It is very, very hard.
The only example we have of how it is done, truly, is with Jesus himself.
Blessed are -- the poor in spirit . . . if your heart hurts, there is hope, he said;
Blessed are -- those who mourn . . . in loss there will be healing, he promised;
Blessed are -- the meek . . . but meek does not equal doormat, he lived;
Blessed are -- those who hunger and thirst for righteousness . . . you are the real agents of change, and he was;
Blessed are -- the merciful . . . it costs us nothing, he said;
Blessed are the pure in heart . . . for God has a soft spot for optimists, he believed;
Blessed are the peacemakers . . . because sometimes real peace means division, he knew;
And so on . . . .
Do we even have a shot of fulfilling his charge in these powerful, ancient, popular words?

"Talk amongst yourselves . . . ".

Welcome to this blog. It is a new venture for me as I come kicking and screaming into the technology now available to us in the 21st century. I realize it is one more very useful tool in widening the conversation about life together in light of the Word of God and our faith journey. But, I thank you in advance for your patience. My purpose herein is listening. I want to hear and really LISTEN to what you have to say about and for the sermons I hope we share. To this end, I would simply like to offer two things each week:
1.)A proposition -- based on the Scriptural text for the upcoming Sunday;
and
2.) An observation -- based on same.
From there, it is up to you to respond and I hope you do. No word from you will go unnoticed or unappreciated, I promise as well. For we are all bound by the Living Word that is the grounding of our faith, Word that breathes and challenges, cajoles and perplexes, amuses and confounds us because it is grounded in God and LIFE -- and God's own abundant life.
I hope this adventure is both informative and creative. I thank you for your time and your interest. I look so forward to hearing your 'word' as well.
So, week one -- here goes:
In Matthew's text this week, 4:12-23, Jesus calls his first disciples.
Proposition: He meets them exactly where they are -- fishing, working, sweating, LIVING.
Obviously, he sees something in them that they don't see or are unaware of, and what he sees in them he likes, no -- loves, and he knows they can be useful to his own work and the Kingdom of God. They follow "immediately" and seemingly without question. So, one might draw the conclusion that they in turn, meet him where he is -- and see something in him that pulls them in his direction without the slightest reservation.
How did he know to do that, to call those men at that time? (And don't cop out by saying "he was God." He was human, too.) And, how did they know to trust enough to respond?
Finally, what is it that keeps us from doing the same in our relationships with one another -- meeting others where they are and accepting, seeing beyond the obvious to the deeper promise of the possibilities of relationship they may possess?
What's your observation?
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