Thursday, January 10, 2008

Daily Journal: January 10th

Today's Reading: Psalm 29
Ascribe to the Lord, O heavenly beings,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name;
worship the Lord in holy splendour.

The voice of the Lord is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders,
the Lord, over mighty waters.
The voice of the Lord is powerful;
the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.

The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars;
the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon.
He makes Lebanon skip like a calf,
and Sirion like a young wild ox.

The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire.
The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness;
the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.

The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl,
and strips the forest bare;
and in his temple all say, ‘Glory!’

The Lord sits enthroned over the flood;
the Lord sits enthroned as king for ever.
May the Lord give strength to his people!
May the Lord bless his people with peace!


Other readings:
1 Samuel 3:1-9 (Samuel, a boy, says "Here I am") and Acts 9:1-9 (Saul on the road to Damascus)

Hymn: "Before You, Lord, We Bow" by Francis Scott Key
Prayer: God, you called the young boy Samuel from his sleep, and you called Saul, the persecutor, out from his darkness--and their lives were never the same. Teach us to recognize your voice, and make us bold in following your commands.

Reflection

I'm finding myself without a lot to say in this journal today. The psalm reading, which is the psalm for this coming Sunday, was selected because of the "voice of the Lord is over the waters" phrase--it is the Baptism of Our Lord this Sunday, after all. I do love that voice upon the waters language, and I love a song by Marty Haugen that echoes it:
Wind upon the waters, voice upon the deep,
rouse your sons and daughters, wake us from our sleep,
breathing life into all flesh, breathing love into all hearts,
living wind upon the waters of my soul.
What does it mean for God's voice to be upon the waters? We as Protestants--well, us non-Lutheran, non-Anglican Protestants, anyway--have for too long domesticated, ignored, or lost faith in the sacraments. So what would it mean if we truly believed God's voice, God's word, was upon, within, amidst the waters of baptism?

It seems that the other readings for today all have the theme of hearing God's voice. In my own experience, though, the hearing of God's voice is one of those areas where Luther's (and others) 'hiddenness of God' is very applicable. When I was sensing the call to pursue seminary and ordained ministry, I definitely thought that it would be much easier of God sent emails or made phone calls, rather than trying to make me figure out why I had a knawing in my stomach and a lump in my throat whenever I thought about the issue of ministry. I think we can never actually be sure it is God's voice we're hearing, and yet we still have to act on the voice we hear, deciding whether it is God's or not. I'm sorta Bonhoeffer-ian here--in an actual instance of ethical decision-making, we can never know (or at least never be sure) what the right choice is, and yet we still must choose, and throw ourselves upon the mercy of God.


Daily lectionary readings from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings, ©2005 Consultation on Common Texts. Hymn suggestions and prayer for the day from Bread for the Day 2008: Daily Bible Readings and Prayers, ©2007 Augsburg Fortress.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Daily Journal: January 9th

Today's Reading: Luke 13:31-35
At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, ‘Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.’ He said to them, ‘Go and tell that fox for me, “Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed away from Jerusalem.” Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” ’

Other readings:
Micah 5:2-9 (One who is to rule Israel) and Psalm 72 (Prayers for the king)

Hymn: "When Twilight Comes" by Moises B. Andrade, tr. James Minchin
Prayer: God of the ages, your word is at once powerful and gentle, ancient and new. Your children pull together and tear apart, loving each other and causing each other pain. Gather us under your wing, O Lord, and renew us.

Reflection

I must confess that among my first thoughts in reading today's text has to do with the killing prophets theme and last night's results from the New Hampshire primary. Yes, I am a Barack Obama supporter, and no, not just because he's UCC (although that certainly adds to it). Up until about a month ago or so, I was sort of non-committal about the whole thing: yeah, maybe leaning toward Obama, but not all that strongly, and not with any particular dislike of Mrs. Clinton. Quite frankly, I found Obama's speech at our UCC General Synod this summer a bit disappointing. Something changed, though, in December, and I came to have a certain distaste form Mrs. Clinton's campaign and became increasingly electrified by how I perceived Obama. I really think if we want substantial change in our country, Mrs. Clinton is just too establishment for that to happen. (Now, that said, if she wins the nomination, I'll still vote for her, just not with the same fervor as I would Obama.)

Now, I want to be clear that Obama is not the messiah and Mrs. Clinton is not Herod. But I can't help feeling a certain parallel from the prophet getting killed to the potential for Obama's campaign to fail. Mrs. Clinton is not Herod in this case, rather "the system" is--the 'establishment', the American electorate that buys into fear about a potential terrorist attack and the question of whether someone like Obama would not have enough experience in that event, and all the other factors that contribute to "the system". 'Jerusalem' is the system: "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!" And this is all the prophets, lest anyone think I'm reducing this all to electoral politics or trying to make Obama the prophet extraordinare (which he's not--remember, I was actually disappointed in his General Synod speech, and while I think he's the best choice, I'm not expecting any divine miracles if he gets elected).

I'm not really sure what to make of Jesus' statement that "it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem."

The 'gospel, as well as the judgment of 'the law', in this passage seems to be Jesus expressing his desire: "How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under wings, and you were not willing!" How do we hold on to that promise, that Jesus wants to gather us in? How do we communicate--evangelize--that gospel message to the un-churched / potential new Christians?

Bread for the Day's suggested hymn, "When Twilight Comes" by Moises Andrade echoes the language from today's reading in it's first and second verses.

When twilight comes and the son suts, mother hen prepares for night's rest.
As her brood shelters under her wings, she gives the love of God to her nest.
Oh! what joy to feel her warm heartbeat and be near her all night long;
so the young can find repose, then renew tomorrow's song.

One day the Rabbi, Lord Jesus, called the twelve to share his last meal.
As the hen tends her young, so for them he spent himself to seek and to heal.
Oh! what joy to be with Christ Jesus, hear his voice, oh! sheer delight,
and receive his servant care: all before the coming night.
(Moises B. Andrade, tr. James Minchin, tr. ©James Minchin, admin. Asian Institute for Liturgy & Music)

For a while now, I think we in the liberal/progressive Mainline have been uncomfortable with language like "Oh! what joy to be with Christ Jesus, hear his voice, oh! sheer delight". I have often shared that discomfort. For me, the discomfort is partly a reaction to evangelicalism, and their tendency to use a lot of so-called 'personal relationship' language and 'Jaezzuss' language. But I also think this discomfort is to our detriment. Indeed, it should be good and joyful to be with Jesus, the one who loved us before we could love. Sometimes our 'head' religion has gotten in the way of the response of our hearts. Over the last few years, I have become a little more comfortable with this kind of language. It's interesting to note how some of this same more emotively connective language permeates a lot of those old 16th, 17th, and 18th century Lutheran chorales, albeit in some different kind of verbiage: "Jesus, priceless treasure, source of purest pleasure, truest friend to me: ah, how long I've panted, and my heart as fainted, thirsting, Lord, for thee!" or "Lord, thee I love with all my heart; I pray thee, ne'er from me depart; with tender mercy cheer me. Earth has no pleasure I would share, yea, heav'n itself wer void and bare if though, Lord, were not near me." I don't know if its simply been some maturing in my faith, or my exposure to this latter kind of language (again, thanks to the Lutherans!), some combination thereof, or something else entirely that has lowered my resistance to more emotive, relational faith language.

Sure, there's the danger of descending into maudlin sentimentality, but for those of us in mainline Reformed tradition churches, with our typically intellectual Theo-centric expressions, we benefit, I think, from opening ourselves a little more emotional Christo-centric language. God is relational and compassionate, after all, and we as humans are emotional, relational, and embodied beings.

O Christ Jesus, I believe, help my unbelief. Help me to love you and trust in your promises. Open me, all that I am, to you. Amen.

Daily lectionary readings from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings, ©2005 Consultation on Common Texts. Hymn suggestions and prayer for the day from Bread for the Day 2008: Daily Bible Readings and Prayers, ©2007 Augsburg Fortress.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Daily Journal: January 8th

Today's Reading: Ephesians 4:7, 11-13
But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.

Other readings:
1 Kings 10:14-25 (Solomon's splendor) and Psalm 72 (Prayers for the king)

Hymn: Lord, You Give the Great Commission
Prayer: Sustaining Lord, you equip each of us with specific gifts for the building up of your kingdom. Grant us the wisdom to identify these gifts in ourselves and others, that your church may be empowered for service in your name. Amen.

Reflection
What an interesting juxtaposition to think about the 'gifts' for ministry we have been given right next to the story of the magi bringing their 'gifts' to the Christ child. It really is a reminder--one we need often--that all the gifts we have to bring were in fact gifts given to us first. We pastors are sometimes just as much in need of that reminder as anyone, perhaps more so. I want to think that I am capable, I am good at what I do, I am gifted. Well, indeed, I am "gifted", but not in the way we normally say that, rather I have received great gifts--everything, really--from God.

Daily lectionary readings from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings, ©2005 Consultation on Common Texts. Hymn suggestions and prayer for the day from Bread for the Day 2008: Daily Bible Readings and Prayers, ©2007 Augsburg Fortress.

Why I want to some daily journals

So, I've been reading Unbinding the Gospel: Real Life Evangelism by Martha Grace Reese, and one of her strongest emphases, particularly in part two of the book, is on the critical importance of prayer--within the congregation, on the part of the pastors and evangelism leaders, and all around. This is connected to the idea the way churches operate and do evangelism is connected to a "trinity of relationships": individuals' relationships with God, relationships between church members, and relationships with people outside the church. Although she tries to describe it as a "trinity" of interdependence, it is clear from what she says that there is a certain priority to the 'relationships with God' part: stronger relationships with God will contribute to better relationships between church member, which in turn will help with relationships with people outside the church.

Importantly, she writes, "If we pastors don't talk about our lives with God, if we don't have substantial prayer lives, it is not likely that members of our churches will develop much of a spiritual life, either. If members are not afire with love for God, it is inconceivable that they will do much to share their faith."

So, I figure I'm going to try to be more intentionally disciplined in doing some sort of daily (or at least rather frequent) "devotional"/reflectional scripture reading and prayer. And, as much as I have usually been resistant to "journalling" through my school life, I figure trying to be committed to doing a regular daily blog post might actually keep me disciplined.

My 'discipline' or guide for at least a while is going to be based on the fairly new Daily Lectionary of the Revised Common Lectionary. While the Revised Common Lectionary has been out since 1992, it was only in 2005 that the Consultation on Common Texts finally released Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings. The readings for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday are intended to reflect back upon Sunday's readings (esp. the gospel reading) and Thursday, Friday, and Saturday's readings are meant to be in preparation for the coming Sunday. There are two readings for each day, as well as two psalms each week (one for Mon - Wed and a different one for Thurs - Sat).

Augsburg Fortress (I love the Lutherans!) has taken this daily lectionary and prepared a devotional book called Bread for the Day 2008: Daily Bible Readings and Prayers. On each day's page, they give the text of one of the readings, list the other readings, and also provide a hymn for the day and a prayer for the day. It's really quite neat, and so I'm going to work with that.

I'll let you know the reading(s) for the day, give the hymn and prayer, and then share some reflections, prayers, or whatever comes to me to share with you. Some days my reflections might be a bit more prayerful/devotional and other days they might be a bit more intellectual/theological in nature, but indeed the intellectual can be a prayer path too.

“What Child is This?” - A Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Advent, Year A

“What Child is This?”
A Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Advent, Year A

By The Rev. Matthew Emery
Second Congregational United Church of Christ, Rockford, Illinois
December 23, 2007

Now, I’ve titled this sermon “What Child is This?”, but something tells me that was probably not Joseph’s first question. Just because Matthew is rather brief and to the point in telling this story, that shouldn’t let us miss the real scandal and drama here.

“When Mary … had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.” So, imagine yourself in Joseph’s place here. You’re engaged to this young woman, and you haven’t quote “lived together”—and now, all of a sudden, she’s quote “found to be with child”. In other words, the two of you have not had sex and yet somehow Mary’s pregnant. I myself have never been in this position, but I’m inclined to think that Joseph’s first question was probably less “what child is this” and more “who’s child is this”? I mean, if we think this situation would be a little scandalous today, how much more so in a society 2,000 years ago where not simply your relationship, but your entire honor and status as a man, could be ruined by such a turn of events.

As if life weren’t already getting complicated and strange enough for Joseph, pretty quickly—while Joseph is figuring out how to minimize the damage—this angel shows up. The angel seems to have the answer, though, to the question of whose this child is: “The child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.” Huh? Now it seems like we’ve moved from the realm of daytime soap-opera drama into an episode of Dr. Who. The Holy Spirit? God has made her pregnant?

As Stanley Hauerwas, one of Pastor Mike’s favorite teachers, points out though, this shouldn’t be so surprising to us. If we affirm that God created the whole world, the whole universe, without needing our involvement—and we do affirm this as Christians, even if we don’t all agree on how God creates—then creating a single new baby certainly is not outside the realm of possibility. (Hauwerwas, 34)

Hauerwas goes on, though, to say to us “What should startle us, what should stun us, is not that Mary is a virgin, but that God refuses to abandon us.” (Ibid.) Like the angel speaking to Joseph in the story, Hauerwas’s observation moves us from the question of who’s this child this to who this child is. This child is God coming to us in human flesh. This squirming little embryo in Mary’s uterus is the clear statement in cells and blood, flesh and bone that ‘God refuses to abandon us.’


I will admit that I have been at the mall and in other stores a number of times recently—and, no, I’m still not entirely done with my Christmas shopping yet. Of course, in some of these places they have been playing holiday music since well before Thanksgiving. Some of these songs are, shall we say, more annoying than others. While there are many candidates to pick on, the song “A Holly, Jolly Christmas” struck me yesterday as both fairly annoying and so utterly disconnected from this story in Matthew, or really anything else biblical about Jesus’ coming. I mean, imagine this scene in a movie: Joseph finds out his supposedly-virgin fiancĂ© is pregnant, starts making plans to break off the engagement, and then this angel shows up, saying that the child is God’s. Then maybe some other hosts of heaven show up in the background and break into song: [singing] “oh by golly have a holly, jolly Christmas this year”.

Obviously, that is not the scene Matthew paints. No, the angel shows up to tell Joseph that this child is from the Holy Spirit. And then the angel goes on, not to some maudlin, sentimental “holly jolly Christmas”, but to say not only that this is a sign, a proof, that ‘God refuses to abandon us’, but that this child will save his people from their sins. As one commentator puts it, “If Jesus is Immanuel [—God with us—] then we realize we don't have to go anywhere to meet him other than the hurly-burly reality of our Monday mornings and our Thursday afternoons. We don't have to go find him in some other realm because he has already found us in exactly this realm and this world. Immanuel is God-with-us in the cancer clinic and in the Alzheimer’s ward at the local nursing home. Immanuel is God-with-us when the pink slip comes and when the beloved child sneers, "I hate you!" Immanuel is God-with-us when you pack the Christmas decorations away and, with an aching heart, you realize afresh that your one children never did call over the holidays. Not once. Immanuel is God-with-us when your dear wife or mother stares at you with an Alzheimer's glaze and absently asks, "What was your name again?"”(Calvin CEP, n.pg.) And I say, there’s a reason these angels that appear to announce Jesus’ birth keep having to say “do not be afraid”. This is big stuff, stuff of life and death, hope and salvation, fear and redemption.

I suspect Joseph was still a bit perplexed. Perhaps he was even more confused after this angel had shown up than before. Maybe he was satisfied with this apparent answer to whose this child was. Or at least he dared to trust the angel dream enough that he didn’t follow through on his plans to dismiss Mary quietly. But, even with that, I bet he was still wondering about this other question, ‘what child is this?’ It’s like the contemporary gospel song by Mark Lowry, recorded by dozens of others, that asks of Joseph’s counterpart “Mary, did you know?”

Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
that your Baby Boy has come to make you new?
This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?
Did you know
that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?
When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

Joseph and Mary may not have known all these things, but as Christians, we do know the rest of the story. We have been invited in to the whole story of Jesus the Christ, that same gospel of God that Paul wrote about to the Romans: God’s promises through the prophets, Jesus’s as truly human as a son of David and truly God as shown in his resurrection, the gifts of grace and discipleship that is offered to each of us and all of us as we people called to belong to Christ. We get to follow one who gave sight to the blind and water to the thirsty. We get to know the inside scoop on the One who came that we may have life, the One who came—and still comes—to save us from our sin. We hear the psalmist cry to God “let your face shine upon us and we shall be saved” , and then we get to give our witness, our testimony, back in response, “we have seen his glory … full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

Indeed, we do get to know the rest of the story. We do get to bear witness to the world to something more, something life-giving, something about what child this is that we celebrate. Knowing the story, we trust in the One who welcomed the outcast and advocated for the poor. Knowing the story, we have the privilege of being the ones who long for and await Christ’s coming again, the ones who have hope in the promise that God’s reign is in fact coming to transform and renew this world.

And yet, even we ourselves are invited to learn the story ever and ever again. We are called to be one standing with Joseph asking ‘what child is this?’. Even knowing the story, we can join in yet another Christmas song—we are still the voice that sings:

(singing)I wonder as I wander, out under the sky,
how Jesus, the Savior, did come for to die:
for poor ord’n’ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander, out under the sky.


Citations: [1] Stanley Hauwerwas, Matthew, Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2006). [2] From the comments on Advent 4A, 23 December 2007, on the “Center for Excellence in Preaching” website of Calvin Theological Seminary: http://cep.calvinseminary.edu/thisWeek/index.php; accessed 22 December 2007.

"Christ the King?" - A Sermon for the Christ the King (OT 34), Year C

“Christ the King?”
A Sermon for the Christ the King / 34th Sun. in Ordinary Time, Yr C

  • Jeremiah 23:1-6--Coming of the shepherd and righteous Branch who will execute justice
  • Luke 23:33-43--Jesus is crucified between two thieves: you will be with me in paradise

By The Rev. Matthew Emery
Second Congregational United Church of Christ, Rockford, Illinois
November 25, 2007

I hope that I am not the only one here who has figured out that today is filled with more than just a little irony. Irony—something unexpected or, more precisely, something exactly opposite what we expect. First of all, the turkeys have been eaten and the stores have been filled with their “Black Friday” shoppers, and yet it is not Advent yet. Only those few years when Thanksgiving is not the last Thursday in November does this happen. Rather, instead of being the First Sunday of Advent, the beginning of a new year in the church’s calendar, we are today at the culmination the year, Christ the King Sunday. Each year we journey through Jesus Christ’s birth, his life and ministry, his death and resurrection, and here at the end of it all, we celebrate that Christ reigns with God over all creation. As the cycle begins anew next Sunday, we will remember our longings for Christ to come again as we move toward remembering his first coming at Christmas.

The fact that today is Christ the King, or Reign of Christ, Sunday instead of the beginning of Advent is really only a little piece of today’s irony, though. It strikes me as far more unexpected that on a day titled Christ the King, we would find ourselves amongst the crowds at the place called The Skull, standing at the foot of the cross. I don’t think we’ll find too many royal history books that will commemorate Queen Elizabeth’s reign by picturing her on her deathbed. So I think this image of Christ the King as the tortured and almost dead Jesus hanging between criminals on the instrument of the Empire’s oppression is rather ironic, to say the least.

But, of course, hearing the story of the crucifixion today is not the only irony. The crucifixion itself is ironic. It is foolishness and a stumbling block wrote the apostle Paul in his first letter to the Corinthian church. The leader of the movement just isn’t supposed to get killed. And more, even, the body hanging on that cross is the one we believe and proclaim to be God in the flesh, and what kind of God goes through that whole mess?

The scene as Luke tells it is filled with all kinds of signs and words of royalty, but all of them too are given in irony. Perched on his central high throne, Jesus has companions seated at his right hand and his left. The plaque above his head proclaims his title, “the King of the Jews.” Luke makes no mention of a crown of thorns, but earlier in the story, Herod’s soldiers had given Jesus an elegant robe as they mocked him and led him away.

The royal figures in the story—or, well, the ones with king-like power—they too are victims of the irony of the situation. Caiaphas, the recognized leader of the Jewish people, the chief-est of chief priests, he probably didn’t like being occupied by the forces of Rome much more than anyone else, but the price of resistance was way higher than the cost of compromise. If this Jesus guy stirred things up, there could have been a revolt and many people could die. As renowned preacher Barbara Brown Taylor put it, “No matter how he did the arithmetic, it came out the same: better that one person should die than many. … Caiaphas was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He was just doing his job.”

Pilate, the official representative of the Roman Empire, the de facto king, in a sense, he didn’t have it much better. He didn’t even want to get involved. But there was no sense in letting Rome think he couldn’t keep control. If killing Jesus would keep the rest of the people quiet, so be it. He too “was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He was just doing his job.”

God has been challenging this kind of bad leadership all along. A few hundred years earlier, the kings of Judah, whether stuck between a rock and a hard place or not, had clearly not succeeded in just doing their job. Judah fell to the Babylonian Empire, and the people were led off in exile. In the words of Jeremiah, we here God’s judgment on them: “Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture. … It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. So I will attend to you for your evil doings, says the Lord.”

Of course, the kings of Jeremiah’s time were not the first to exhibit bad leadership, to do evil in the sight of God. And the Caiaphas’s and Pilate’s and Herod’s of Jesus time were not the last. While we may not have anyone titled “King” in our society today, there is still a whole mysterious complex of multi-national corporations and economic policies and government leaders and citizen apathy that works to scatter people all around. The economics of the world today force people to migrate from place to place to find work, and then when they get somewhere, we punish them for being there “illegally”. We “improve” neighborhoods by pushing poor people somewhere—anywhere—else: we have UCC brothers and sisters in a congregation I worked at in Chicago who, for some of them, have seen their community pushed around to three different neighborhoods by the forces of ‘gentrification’.

Like the kings of Jeremiah’s time, we have not attended to the flock of God’s people as we turn a blind eye to war refugees from Iraq and genocide victims from Darfur … or even right here whenever we fail to actually welcome someone into our community when they’re not enough like us or because they might change us. We may not have kings, but we certainly have all the trappings of their misdeeds.

The cross that stands at the center of today’s passage from Luke stands as judgment on all of this. In their own time, it betrayed the farce that was the so-called power Caiaphas and Pilate held. In our time, it still betrays all the hands at which the innocent are killed—whether they die physically or simply die inside. It pronounces judgment on all who scoff and mock like the soldiers and first criminal, the ones who look into the face of pain and torture and say “save yourself.” And it casts its dark shadow over all of us who, like the people in Luke’s telling of the story, stand by watching while our leaders do evil and get away with murder.


Judgment is not the only word we hear from this cross, though. In the midst of the darkest hour, in the voice of one in deepest despair, we hear two signs of a new kind of kingship. We hear the words of mercy and of promise to the outcast. “Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” With the signs of earthly kingship standing around him in irony and mockery, Jesus still has one royal prerogative to exercise, the power of pardon. In contrast to the rulers who condemn the innocent, forsaking their power to pardon, Jesus takes it up, asking forgiveness for his executioners. Luke’s gospel is filled with Jesus offering forgiveness and restoration, and that word still sounds forth at the end. Luke’s gospel is also the story of one who stands with the marginalized, welcoming them into a new community—and this sign of Jesus’ reign sounds forth too. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” To the outcast and to the guilty, even torture and death cannot erase the promise. For the criminal hanging next to Jesus, it was more than he had even asked for, the fulfillment of God’s promise way back in Jeremiah’s time that “I myself with gather the remnant of my flock … and I will bring them back to their fold.” For us, it is the very hope upon which we stand: the promise that the one in whom we put our faith, the one we have been joined to in our baptisms, that he invites us today into a new kind of kingdom, his kingdom.

The Crucified One as the king at whose cross-shaped throne all other kings’ power is proven false? The reign of one who speaks mercy and promise? Ironic? Perhaps, but God wouldn’t have it any other way.

Let us pray.

O God, our true life,
to serve you is freedom,
and to know you is unending joy.
We worship you, we glorify you,
we give thanks to you for your great glory.
Abide with us,
reign in us,
and make this world reflect your divine majesty,
through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and forever.
Amen.
(Prayer of the Day for Christ the King C from Evangelical Lutheran Worship, copyright 2006 Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, admin. Augsburg Fortress.)

Friday, January 4, 2008

Too Funny

I found this quote rather humorous for some reason:

"[A]s many have noted, the only one among the early Republican frontrunners with a history of just one wife was the Mormon, Mitt Romney..."

--Jim Wallis, SojoMail, January 3rd, 2008

Friday, December 28, 2007

Sermons coming

Sorry that I've been a bit delayed in getting sermons up recently. I preached on November 25th (Christ the King C) and December 23rd (Advent 4A). Really, my biggest excuse is that the closest-to-final versions of them are on my computer at the office, and I most often post to this thing from home.

So, anyway, they'll be up soon, say in the next week or so. Thanks for reading!

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Birthday!

Yes, that's right: those of you who've looked at my blog before may notice that the headline bar at the top changed to "... from a 26-year-old ..." It is indeed my birthday today, which so far I've celebrated by having to get up entirely too early so I could attend the monthly (retired) Men's Fellowship breakfast, eating a Western Chicken breakfast skillet at said breakfast, driving through the rain-ice mix from today's ice storm, and working on things in my office at the church. Gonna go have lunch now. Exciting, eh?

Monday, November 19, 2007

Thoughts on Advent Music

As the Advent season approaches, there's a debate going on in my congregation about what the appropriate hymns to sing are during these four weeks leading up to Christmas. Really, this is not a new debate: my congregation has had some of it before, and many congregations face a similar dilemma.

The struggle, as it were, is basically this: the pastors (myself and my senior pastor colleague), the music staff, and a portion of the congregation want Advent to be Advent, holding off on Christmas carols/hymns until the Christmas Eve services and for the Sunday(s) following that are the actual Christmas season. Another section of the congregation, though, doesn't seem to have much connection with the Advent season or its hymnody, and feels that we should be singing the Christmas carols in those Sundays leading up to Christmas. And, of course, there's probably the silent 'broad middle' of the congregation that doesn't have particularly strong feelings one way or the other on the matter.

In the debate going on in my congregation, I think there are actually a number of realities and issues playing into the dynamics of the debate--issues not directly connected to the debate at hand--and so I'm not sure it's helpful or appropriate to go into great detail about the specifics of how this debate is playing out in this place.

What I want to do instead, though, is give some of the reasons why I feel Advent is important, why I feel we need to let Advent be Advent.

1. -- There's a fairly basic issue about the integrity, harmony, and wholeness of the liturgy itself. Our congregation uses the lectionary to determine the scripture readings for each Sunday. As a preacher and worship planner, I find that worship services are much more powerful and meaningful when all of the elements fit with one another. Specifically, I try very hard whenever I am planning worship to see that the hymns and other music we sing fits well with the scripture readings, the sermon, and any other themes for that day (special celebrations, liturgical season, etc.). Sometimes this "fit" is more direct (a hymn whose text quotes or tells the story of one or more of the readings, for instance) and sometimes this "fit" is more of a 'coordinated' or 'complementary' relationship (a hymn that expresses the same or similar themes, for instance). During the 'festival seasons' (that is, the part of the church year that is not simply Ordinary Time), often choosing most of the hymns out of the repertoire for that season is a sufficient level of 'fit' to bring the sort of harmony I look for. The hymn that follows the sermon, though, (the "Hymn of the Day" as it is referred to in the Lutheran tradition) definitely needs to 'fit' the readings and sermon, for me--little is more jarring than a post-sermon hymn that deflates, contradicts, or is simply unrelated to the sermon and scripture that precedes it (unless for some well-thought out reason a contradictory message is planned intentionally).

So, during the season of Advent, it makes little sense to me to completely ignore the whole nature of what the scripture readings are during this season. For instance, the Gospel reading for the 1st Sunday of Advent this coming year is from an apocalyptic discourse of Jesus, Matthew 24:36-44: "Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming." For that kind of text, something like the well-known "Sleepers Wake! A Voice Astound Us" (a.k.a. "Wake, awake, for night is flying") to the also-well-known tune WACHET AUF is something that fits well. Or, while not being quite so direct a fit, Marty Haugen's "Awake! Awake, and greet the new morn" would fit in a complementary way. Or even "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" complements this text--Jesus is saying "you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" and in response the church prays for him to come. Flipping through one of the hymnals I have at home right now, though, I cannot find a Christmas carol that fits at all with this kind of text.

The situation is the same with many of the Sundays of Advent in all three years of the lectionary cycle. We hear beautiful and powerful prophetic visions from Isaiah about the wolf lying down with the lamb and God saying 'peace' to those under oppression. We hear Jesus speaking of his second coming, not his first. We hear John the Baptist crying out to prepare and repent. How many Christmas carols speak of repentance?

2. -- The church does not need to play into and support the over-commercialization of Christmas and our society's addiction to immediate gratification. As this debate plays out in many churches, there are always folk who say "well, they're playing Christmas carols everywhere else, why can't we sing them in church?" Well, part of the vocation of Christianity and the church is to invite people into "the way", a different way of seeing themselves and the world and a different set of practices. Recently there has been a lot written about the recovery of "Christian practices" in mainline Protestant churches. The way we mark time, as Christians, is part of the different sort of practices we engage in as the church. We set aside one day each week for 'sabbath': worship, rest, and service to others. And we observe a liturgical cycle that deeply connects us with the life of Jesus: his coming, his birth, his ministry, his death, his resurrection, his presence by the Holy Spirit, and his coming again. It is not that we don't celebrate Christmas or sing Christmas carols, but we do so in their own time and place. Advent gives us the opportunity to be immersed in Jesus' "coming"s: his first coming and his coming again.

The demand that we sing Christmas carols during Advent stems from at least two phenomena in American society and American Christianity. One of these I have already named: the combination of commercialization with our American addiction to instant gratification. Why should I have to wait when I can have it now? A second piece, though, has to do with the phenomenon of the American civic religion and the loss of Christian distinctiveness in America. Many in our congregations do not connect with Advent, or with much of the liturgical/lectionary year, because in the so-called glory days of American Protestantism, most Protestants had little to do with such things. Observance of the church year and use of the lectionary is something that most mainline Protestants (the Episcopalians and some Lutherans excepted) only began reclaiming in the late 1960s. It was probably not until the 1980s that you could say it had caught on to a large degree in a majority of the churches. (And, I will add, my particular congregation was especially late in this, as regular use of the lectionary didn't start until around the year 2000.) The idea that the distinctive, historic practices of the larger Christian tradition could have important formational function went largely unrecognized, or thought unimportant, by mid-20th century civic faith Protestantism. It was simply assumed that everyone was Christian and that everyone knew what it meant to be Christian. The idea that Christianity was about inviting people into an alternative way of life, faith, and practice would have been thought odd at best (and perhaps 'ludicrous').

Well, folks, this isn't the 1950s any more. Most mainline Protestants have been engaged in the liturgical renewal movement for at least 30 years. Marking the liturgical seasons, using the lectionary, reclaiming the sacraments, all this is not new. Secondly, we do need to be formed in the faith, to be drink deeply at the well that is the life-death-and-resurrection of Jesus, to be invited into a distinctive community called the church.

3. -- This final piece is connected to the second one, but from a different angle. I'll say it this way: We need Advent. I think the root feeling/theme at the heart of Advent is longing. Simply as humans, we have longing. We long for comfort, for peace, for an end to warfare and hunger, for love. The haunting melody of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" is a wonderful musical embodiment of that longing. As Christians, though, we are especially a people of longing. We are the ones who "proclaim the Lord's death until he comes"--the focus of which should be at least as much on the "until he comes" part as on the "Lord's death" part. Our basic faith affirmations include "Christ will come again" and "I believe in ... the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting." Our basic prayer is "Our Father in heaven ... your kingdom come." Quite frankly, if we are not a people of longing, then we have definitely lost our way as Christians. If we are not a people of longing, then we have lost sight of all those in this world who are hungry, dispossessed, and enslaved. If we are not a people of longing, then the gospel itself is nothing to us, for we apparently have all we need and all we hope for within our reach. (This is part of the connection to the commercialization of American society theme, because in America we do have everything within our reach, or at least so it seems.) If we are not a people of longing, then we have no use for God at all. "Our hearts are restless until they rest in you, O God," saith Augustine.

We need Advent. We need it in order to reconnect with the longing that haunts inside us, to give voice to our hope for ourselves and the world, to empower us to authentically cry out "Come, Lord Jesus!"