Some of you may remember the Country and Western singer John Anderson. He sang a little song called "I’m Just an Old Chunk of Coal." Take a listen:
I'm just an old chunk of coal
But I'm gonna be a diamond someday
I'm gonna grow and glow 'til I'm so blue pure perfect
I'm gonna put a smile on ev'rybody's face
I'm gonna kneel and pray ev'ry day
Lest I should become vain along the way
I'm just and old chunk of coal now Lord
But I'm gonna be a diamond someday
I'm gonna learn the best way to walk
I’m gonna search and find a better way to talk
I'm gonna spit and polish my old rough-edged self
'Til I get rid of ev'ry single flaw
Well I'm gonna be the world's best friend
Gonna go 'round shakin' ev'rybody's hand
I’m gonna be the cotton pickin’ rage of the age
Hey I’m gonna be a diamond someday
I'm just an old chunk of coal
But I'm gonna be a diamond someday
I'm gonna grow and glow 'til I'm so blue pure perfect
I'm gonna put a smile on ev'rybody's face
I'm gonna kneel and pray ev'ry day
Lest I should become vain along the way
I'm just and old chunk of coal now Lord
But I'm gonna be a diamond someday
I thought about this song when I read our second lesson and our Gospel lesson for this week from the books of 2nd Corinthians and Mark respectively because in many ways both of these texts are about change.
Mark’s story of the transfiguration of Jesus is rather obvious because Jesus is transformed or changed in the presence of Peter, James, and John. His clothing becomes dazzling white, and the disciples are given clear instructions, "This is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased. Listen to Him!" The change in Jesus’ appearance and the voice from heaven are meant to show where Jesus’ authority and power come from, and I believe they were there for the benefit of the disciples to compel them to become even firmer in their conviction to follow Jesus.
In the same way, I believe we are urged through this text to become even more secure in our conviction that Jesus is Lord and Savior of all. I believe we are urged to take seriously our own callings to be Jesus’ followers, and to conform our lives to his.
And this is where things get a little tricky and where are second lesson comes in. Paul talks of the traits and qualities that Christians share. He says, "Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2We have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God."
Now, let’s break Paul’s statement down piece by piece. First, he says that we as Christians do not lose hope. You and I know we live in a world that oftentimes drags us down into the pits of despair. We suffer. We grieve. We get stressed out and lonely. Whenever you turn on the television or radio, someone is always trying to scare you and tell you how bad things are or how bad they are going to get. Add to this the frantic pace of most of our lives, and you have a recipe for depression, anxiety, and hopelessness. Paul firmly states that Christians do not head down that pathway because we trust in God. Plain and simple. When you trust that God has a plan and a purpose, you can always live in hope.
Secondly, Paul says that we renounce the shameful things one hides. Of course, Paul is talking about our sin. Most of the stuff we do wrong, we tend to do it where no one is watching. We hide it away from everything because we know it’s wrong, and we don’t want to be discovered. Paul says, that we shine the light of Jesus into these hiding places. Jesus’ light drives off the darkness so that we can freely renounce the things we once did.
Thirdly, Paul says Christians refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word. We do not seek to deceive anyone. We are truthful. We do not seek to get our point across by deception, rather we are honest and above board. This even extends to God’s word. We are not supposed to water it down or make it more palatable for others. We are to speak it truthfully, honestly, yet with great love. We aren’t supposed to lie about what is and is not a part of God’s word. We must realize that folks can and will check to see if we are speaking the truth; and we must realize God asks us to speak the truth.
For most Christians, we realize this means our lives have to undergo change constantly. In each of these points, we are constantly at war with our sinful nature which seeks to drag us back–drag us back to hopelessness–drag us back into sin–and drag us back into deceitfulness–drag us back to falsifying God’s word. Yet, there is a big difference between us and what John Anderson sings about. If you listened very closely to the song, you heard John say, "I’m going to learn the best way to talk. I’m going to search and find the best way to talk. I’m going to spit and polish my old rough-edged self, ‘til I get rid of every single flaw."
We know that we are not able to do such a thing. We know, as Christians, we can never turn ourselves into diamonds. We are not capable. Even though we know what is wrong, we oftentimes choose it. Even though we know things are hurtful to others, we still do them. And try as we might, we can’t change it. But there is one who can, and Paul speaks of this eloquently, "5For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake. 6For it is the God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. 7But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us."
It is Christ who comes in to change us. It is Christ who enters into our hearts to do battle with our sinful nature. It is Christ who works within us to bring us to: cling to hope, renounce sin, shun deceit, and faithfully adhere to God’s Word. We realize we are but made out of clay and that without the treasure of Christ within, we would be able to do nothing. Let that treasure work in your heart and mind to transform you that you may proclaim His goodness to the world. Amen.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
For a Moment, It Became Real
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the Holy Catholic Church,
the Communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
and the life everlasting. Amen.
Every Sunday, we profess this as our faith. Sometimes we use the Nicene Creed which uses different words, but expresses the same sentiments.
Today, for a few moments a few of those words became reality.
On Thursday, I conducted a funeral for a member of my congregation. My last blog posting included the sermon from that service. Today, several of his immediate family attended worship. At Holy Communion, they came forward to receive the Sacrament.
His wife came forward, and I placed the bread in her hand. At the same time I spoke the words, "The body of Christ given for you," the phrase "the Communion of Saints" flashed into my head. With the phrase came the vision of just what we believe happens when we celebrate the Sacrament.
For we believe that as we commune, we become a part of the entirety of the body of Christ: the Church on earth and the Church in heaven. Eternity and human time become one as we join the host of heaven in this celebration. For a moment in time, this belief became absolutely real as I handed the body of Christ to this newly widowed woman.
It brought tears to my eyes as I thought of this woman being together with her husband at that moment: worshiping together; communing together; in the presence of Christ together.
Sometimes, we are blessed with moments like this--when belief becomes reality. Sometimes they are few and far between, but when they happen, they are special. Even if they only last a moment.
the Holy Catholic Church,
the Communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
and the life everlasting. Amen.
Every Sunday, we profess this as our faith. Sometimes we use the Nicene Creed which uses different words, but expresses the same sentiments.
Today, for a few moments a few of those words became reality.
On Thursday, I conducted a funeral for a member of my congregation. My last blog posting included the sermon from that service. Today, several of his immediate family attended worship. At Holy Communion, they came forward to receive the Sacrament.
His wife came forward, and I placed the bread in her hand. At the same time I spoke the words, "The body of Christ given for you," the phrase "the Communion of Saints" flashed into my head. With the phrase came the vision of just what we believe happens when we celebrate the Sacrament.
For we believe that as we commune, we become a part of the entirety of the body of Christ: the Church on earth and the Church in heaven. Eternity and human time become one as we join the host of heaven in this celebration. For a moment in time, this belief became absolutely real as I handed the body of Christ to this newly widowed woman.
It brought tears to my eyes as I thought of this woman being together with her husband at that moment: worshiping together; communing together; in the presence of Christ together.
Sometimes, we are blessed with moments like this--when belief becomes reality. Sometimes they are few and far between, but when they happen, they are special. Even if they only last a moment.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Until We Meet Again, My Brother
Grace to you and peace from God the Father and from our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Everyone who knew J.C. has a J.C. story. Of the several that I have collected in the past seven and a half years, I will begin with the first one: the day I met him. My wife and I were moving from Seguin, TX out to Cat Spring. Seguin is no major metropolis, but when you compare it to Cat Spring, well, let’s just say there were more people and houses in my former neighborhood than there were in the entire town. My wife really didn’t know what to expect after having grown up in San Antonio. Moving to the country was just a little outside her frame of reference. She didn’t know what to expect. Luckily, I half-way did.
One of the first people we met upon arrival to Cat Spring was J.C. He was on council serving as property chair, and he was offering his services to help us move in. It was a non-typical July day in 2004. When I mean non-typical, I mean that it was actually threatening rain as we moved all our stuff in the house. J.C. was wearing his overalls with no undershirt, and he was dripping sweat as we carried box after box after box. At one point, J.C. stopped me, this giant of a man looked down at me and said, "Preacher, let me tell you something about the sacrifice I’m making today. You see, I have a cutting of hay laying in the field right now, and it looks like it’s going to get rained on."
Without hesitation, I patted him on the shoulder and replied, "Don’t worry, the Lord will reward you greatly in heaven."
I really think that was the last thing he expected to hear from this young whippersnapper. He stood in silence for a second or two before erupting in laughter. He and I then proceeded to continue hauling in boxes and whatever else we had packed in that moving van, and in that moment I knew my family had arrived in a place where we could call home. J.C. helped personify the community: serious about his work, serious about helping out when a hand was needed, serious about his Church, and ready to laugh at the drop of a hat–even when it meant having the tables turned when he was trying to pull the new preacher’s leg.
It may have been the first time we laughed together, but it certainly wasn’t the last. I thought really hard about including in the readings for today Genesis chapter 3 verses 14-15. This text is right in the middle of the Fall story after Man and Woman ate the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. The Lord is talking to the serpent, and He speaks these words, "14The Lord God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this, cursed are you among all animals and among all wild creatures; upon your belly you shall go, and dust you shall eat all the days of your life. 15I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will strike your head, and you will strike his heel."
I don’t know exactly how J.C. managed it, but in the time I knew him, he managed to get snake bit three times. I don’t know what this seeming attraction between him and copperheads was, but it was a real head scratcher. After the second time he got bit, he came to church. Following the service, I told him, "I’ve seen the shoes you wear up here to work in. I think they’re part of the problem with you getting snake bit. I decided to take up a collection this morning to get you a decent pair of boots to protect your feet. Unfortunately, I was only able to get one dollar and three cents, and I threw in the dollar."
J.C. promised to get me back for that one. But you know something, I don’t know if the devil was after him or what with those snake bites. Because, even when J.C. managed to spot a snake and kill it once, his dog, who is an absolute snake-killing dog, discovered the decapitated head, shook it around, threw it, and it landed on J.C.’s foot and bit him. Yes, my friends. It seemed J.C. couldn’t win for losing at such a thing, but he always managed to bounce back.
J.C. seemed indomitable to me. He seemed larger than life, and in some ways he truly was. When I heard that he had prostate cancer, I was positive he’d beat it. Most men do. He first started taking drugs, and they seemed to help, and I wasn’t worried. Then the cancer moved into his bones. It caused him much pain, but he received radiation. It seemed to help, and I figured he’d come out of it. Nothing ever seemed to get him down. But it didn’t happen. He continued his spiral downward. He knew it. And I don’t think it was easy for him.
Christmas Eve was the last time J.C. was able to come to church. He sat in his wheelchair about five rows from the front. The rest of his family was with him. I found out earlier this week that throughout most of the service, they were arguing and worrying about J.C. going up to communion. They worried that he didn’t have the strength to walk up there, and they tried to convince him to wait and let me bring communion to him. J.C. even handed his cane to Glenda acting as if she needed it more than him.
But J.C. had pulled a fast one on all of them. Unbeknownst to them, I had greeted him before the service started. He asked me to bring him communion when the time came for it in the service, and rather than let anyone else know, he decided to play along with them one more time. We laughed at this together as we talked about it.
But I also remember J.C.’s demeanor when he asked me to bring him communion. He got tears in his eyes when he asked. He wanted to go up by himself on his own power, but he knew he just couldn’t any longer. Roughly two weeks ago, I visited with him and Glenda in their home, and he remarked, "I used to always bounce back, but I’m not able to this time."
As big a heart and as big a man as J.C. was, he finally came upon something he couldn’t overcome. It’s the same thing we all eventually run into in the midst of our lives: the brokenness of our world. As much good as there is in this world, it’s not perfect. It’s still warped, and we can’t fix it. We see how broken it is in snake bites and in cancer and ultimately in death. It might not be to fashionable to talk about such things as the result of sin in this day and age, but that’s exactly what they are. And no matter how hard we might try to fix sin, we just can’t do it. We can’t eradicate cancer. Even if a snake it killed, it can still bite. And no one, and I mean no one can escape death. This news is not so good for us. In fact, it would be terrifying if it were the end of the story. But thankfully, it’s not.
St. Paul left these words for us as he wrote to the church in Rome, "8But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. 9Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God. 10For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. 11But more than that, we even boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation."
Paul announces the good news that through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, we have been reconciled unto God. When we could not defeat sin and death; when we could not overcome the brokenness of this world; Jesus faced that brokenness, was killed by that brokenness, and then was raised to new life to defeat that brokenness and give hope to all who believed in His name. And what is that hope?
Just this, as Jesus said in the reading from the book of John: He is goes to prepare a place for us so that where He is, we will be also. J.C. now shares this hope. J.C. is now with Jesus in one of those rooms especially prepared for him. This is the promise which we cling to today–a promise that even in the midst of our grief gives us hope. For we too share in that promise. We too have a place prepared for us. We too will one day go to be with Jesus to be reunited with J.C. and all those who have gone before. And then, perhaps, we will get to see just what kind of reward J.C. got when his hay got rained on because he was welcoming his new preacher to his new home.
Everyone who knew J.C. has a J.C. story. Of the several that I have collected in the past seven and a half years, I will begin with the first one: the day I met him. My wife and I were moving from Seguin, TX out to Cat Spring. Seguin is no major metropolis, but when you compare it to Cat Spring, well, let’s just say there were more people and houses in my former neighborhood than there were in the entire town. My wife really didn’t know what to expect after having grown up in San Antonio. Moving to the country was just a little outside her frame of reference. She didn’t know what to expect. Luckily, I half-way did.
One of the first people we met upon arrival to Cat Spring was J.C. He was on council serving as property chair, and he was offering his services to help us move in. It was a non-typical July day in 2004. When I mean non-typical, I mean that it was actually threatening rain as we moved all our stuff in the house. J.C. was wearing his overalls with no undershirt, and he was dripping sweat as we carried box after box after box. At one point, J.C. stopped me, this giant of a man looked down at me and said, "Preacher, let me tell you something about the sacrifice I’m making today. You see, I have a cutting of hay laying in the field right now, and it looks like it’s going to get rained on."
Without hesitation, I patted him on the shoulder and replied, "Don’t worry, the Lord will reward you greatly in heaven."
I really think that was the last thing he expected to hear from this young whippersnapper. He stood in silence for a second or two before erupting in laughter. He and I then proceeded to continue hauling in boxes and whatever else we had packed in that moving van, and in that moment I knew my family had arrived in a place where we could call home. J.C. helped personify the community: serious about his work, serious about helping out when a hand was needed, serious about his Church, and ready to laugh at the drop of a hat–even when it meant having the tables turned when he was trying to pull the new preacher’s leg.
It may have been the first time we laughed together, but it certainly wasn’t the last. I thought really hard about including in the readings for today Genesis chapter 3 verses 14-15. This text is right in the middle of the Fall story after Man and Woman ate the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. The Lord is talking to the serpent, and He speaks these words, "14The Lord God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this, cursed are you among all animals and among all wild creatures; upon your belly you shall go, and dust you shall eat all the days of your life. 15I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will strike your head, and you will strike his heel."
I don’t know exactly how J.C. managed it, but in the time I knew him, he managed to get snake bit three times. I don’t know what this seeming attraction between him and copperheads was, but it was a real head scratcher. After the second time he got bit, he came to church. Following the service, I told him, "I’ve seen the shoes you wear up here to work in. I think they’re part of the problem with you getting snake bit. I decided to take up a collection this morning to get you a decent pair of boots to protect your feet. Unfortunately, I was only able to get one dollar and three cents, and I threw in the dollar."
J.C. promised to get me back for that one. But you know something, I don’t know if the devil was after him or what with those snake bites. Because, even when J.C. managed to spot a snake and kill it once, his dog, who is an absolute snake-killing dog, discovered the decapitated head, shook it around, threw it, and it landed on J.C.’s foot and bit him. Yes, my friends. It seemed J.C. couldn’t win for losing at such a thing, but he always managed to bounce back.
J.C. seemed indomitable to me. He seemed larger than life, and in some ways he truly was. When I heard that he had prostate cancer, I was positive he’d beat it. Most men do. He first started taking drugs, and they seemed to help, and I wasn’t worried. Then the cancer moved into his bones. It caused him much pain, but he received radiation. It seemed to help, and I figured he’d come out of it. Nothing ever seemed to get him down. But it didn’t happen. He continued his spiral downward. He knew it. And I don’t think it was easy for him.
Christmas Eve was the last time J.C. was able to come to church. He sat in his wheelchair about five rows from the front. The rest of his family was with him. I found out earlier this week that throughout most of the service, they were arguing and worrying about J.C. going up to communion. They worried that he didn’t have the strength to walk up there, and they tried to convince him to wait and let me bring communion to him. J.C. even handed his cane to Glenda acting as if she needed it more than him.
But J.C. had pulled a fast one on all of them. Unbeknownst to them, I had greeted him before the service started. He asked me to bring him communion when the time came for it in the service, and rather than let anyone else know, he decided to play along with them one more time. We laughed at this together as we talked about it.
But I also remember J.C.’s demeanor when he asked me to bring him communion. He got tears in his eyes when he asked. He wanted to go up by himself on his own power, but he knew he just couldn’t any longer. Roughly two weeks ago, I visited with him and Glenda in their home, and he remarked, "I used to always bounce back, but I’m not able to this time."
As big a heart and as big a man as J.C. was, he finally came upon something he couldn’t overcome. It’s the same thing we all eventually run into in the midst of our lives: the brokenness of our world. As much good as there is in this world, it’s not perfect. It’s still warped, and we can’t fix it. We see how broken it is in snake bites and in cancer and ultimately in death. It might not be to fashionable to talk about such things as the result of sin in this day and age, but that’s exactly what they are. And no matter how hard we might try to fix sin, we just can’t do it. We can’t eradicate cancer. Even if a snake it killed, it can still bite. And no one, and I mean no one can escape death. This news is not so good for us. In fact, it would be terrifying if it were the end of the story. But thankfully, it’s not.
St. Paul left these words for us as he wrote to the church in Rome, "8But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. 9Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God. 10For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. 11But more than that, we even boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation."
Paul announces the good news that through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, we have been reconciled unto God. When we could not defeat sin and death; when we could not overcome the brokenness of this world; Jesus faced that brokenness, was killed by that brokenness, and then was raised to new life to defeat that brokenness and give hope to all who believed in His name. And what is that hope?
Just this, as Jesus said in the reading from the book of John: He is goes to prepare a place for us so that where He is, we will be also. J.C. now shares this hope. J.C. is now with Jesus in one of those rooms especially prepared for him. This is the promise which we cling to today–a promise that even in the midst of our grief gives us hope. For we too share in that promise. We too have a place prepared for us. We too will one day go to be with Jesus to be reunited with J.C. and all those who have gone before. And then, perhaps, we will get to see just what kind of reward J.C. got when his hay got rained on because he was welcoming his new preacher to his new home.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Figured a Little Something Out
I've heard it said over and over again that the Church is heading toward irrelevance in our society.
I've heard it said over and over again that we must change the way we do things to connect with our communities and with our culture.
I agree with these two assertions, but I have increasingly wondered why it is that the Church in North America, particularly the U.S. continues to decline. It seems that most agree on the issue, but few have figured out what changes need to be made in order to bring about the connection to society.
Now, based upon the title of this blog, you might think that I've got it figured out when it comes to making that connection. Honestly, no, I don't. That's not what this posting is about. Rather, it's about something a little more concerning, at least to yours truly.
For, as I've been in the parish, I've come to see there is quite the gap between what I was taught needed to take place in preaching and teaching and the reality of what preaching and teaching actually works.
That gap was exposed once again yesterday as I visited a member who had been through three rough weeks medically. As we talked, she spoke about what she believed God was teaching her through this ordeal, and of course, her thoughts turned toward attending worship and being involved in church.
Here's where things got interesting. She made the comment about attending worship at a congregation in a nearby town. She spoke of how she appreciated how the preacher "preached the Bible." Now, for some I know, this statement raises hackles. I've even heard one or two say, "As if I don't preach the Bible."
Unfortunately, sometimes I think we as clergy do a poor job of putting ourselves into the pews. I mean, many of us don't remember what it was like to sit there before taking Hebrew and Greek. Many of us don't return to the place where we were ignorant of historical-critical methodologies. Many of us forget that people in the pews don't speak theological jargon. They look at the Bible plainly. They read the words on the page, and oftentimes take those words at face value.
Preachers who also take those words at face value and elaborate on them at that face value, "Preach the Bible." Those who delve into the historical settings and other such things and come at the text through this lens generally don't receive this description. Sometimes, folks are downright hostile to this approach, and I completely understand why.
More than a few times, I've come across someone who wants to impress me with the amount of knowledge he or she has acquired. More than a few times such a person has used "high falutin'" language to try and get a point across. And more than a few times, I've tuned such people out because if you can't explain something to me plainly in a language I can understand, then I just don't give a darn about it. If you can't explain a concept to me in everyday terms and resort to "you just don't have enough knowledge to understand what I'm talking about," I'll consider you an unreliable source.
I believe my job (and perhaps the job of mathematicians, scientists, doctors, and others who deal with the public) is to explain Scripture, explain theology, explain Christianity in terms that people can understand. For me, this means using the plain explanation of Scripture as my primary default and using higher criticism as rarely as possible. I personally believe this makes it easier for me to connect to people and connect faith to everyday life.
I do know most mainline denominations have bought into the concepts of higher methodologies of interpreting the Scriptures, but maybe this isn't exactly to our benefit in the long run.
I've heard it said over and over again that we must change the way we do things to connect with our communities and with our culture.
I agree with these two assertions, but I have increasingly wondered why it is that the Church in North America, particularly the U.S. continues to decline. It seems that most agree on the issue, but few have figured out what changes need to be made in order to bring about the connection to society.
Now, based upon the title of this blog, you might think that I've got it figured out when it comes to making that connection. Honestly, no, I don't. That's not what this posting is about. Rather, it's about something a little more concerning, at least to yours truly.
For, as I've been in the parish, I've come to see there is quite the gap between what I was taught needed to take place in preaching and teaching and the reality of what preaching and teaching actually works.
That gap was exposed once again yesterday as I visited a member who had been through three rough weeks medically. As we talked, she spoke about what she believed God was teaching her through this ordeal, and of course, her thoughts turned toward attending worship and being involved in church.
Here's where things got interesting. She made the comment about attending worship at a congregation in a nearby town. She spoke of how she appreciated how the preacher "preached the Bible." Now, for some I know, this statement raises hackles. I've even heard one or two say, "As if I don't preach the Bible."
Unfortunately, sometimes I think we as clergy do a poor job of putting ourselves into the pews. I mean, many of us don't remember what it was like to sit there before taking Hebrew and Greek. Many of us don't return to the place where we were ignorant of historical-critical methodologies. Many of us forget that people in the pews don't speak theological jargon. They look at the Bible plainly. They read the words on the page, and oftentimes take those words at face value.
Preachers who also take those words at face value and elaborate on them at that face value, "Preach the Bible." Those who delve into the historical settings and other such things and come at the text through this lens generally don't receive this description. Sometimes, folks are downright hostile to this approach, and I completely understand why.
More than a few times, I've come across someone who wants to impress me with the amount of knowledge he or she has acquired. More than a few times such a person has used "high falutin'" language to try and get a point across. And more than a few times, I've tuned such people out because if you can't explain something to me plainly in a language I can understand, then I just don't give a darn about it. If you can't explain a concept to me in everyday terms and resort to "you just don't have enough knowledge to understand what I'm talking about," I'll consider you an unreliable source.
I believe my job (and perhaps the job of mathematicians, scientists, doctors, and others who deal with the public) is to explain Scripture, explain theology, explain Christianity in terms that people can understand. For me, this means using the plain explanation of Scripture as my primary default and using higher criticism as rarely as possible. I personally believe this makes it easier for me to connect to people and connect faith to everyday life.
I do know most mainline denominations have bought into the concepts of higher methodologies of interpreting the Scriptures, but maybe this isn't exactly to our benefit in the long run.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
A Revisiting of Valentine's Day Thoughts
I expressed my heart-felt thoughts about Valentine's Day last year:
http://countrypreacherscorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/valentines-day.html
A few things have changed since last year's post in regards to our family's routine, but I'm still not going to celebrate this holiday.
You see, I have this philosophy about family life and the relationships that I hold dear--I want to make sure the people I am closest to in my life know I love and care about them, and I practice this on a DAILY basis--especially with my wife and kids.
Here's a few things I want them to learn from how I treat them:
1. Show love EVERY day. I'm raising two little girls. When they find someone to spend the rest of their lives with, I hope and pray for a person that lets them know how special they are every day whether it's through hugs, kisses, flowers, cooking for them, unexpectedly doing the dishes or starting laundry, or telling them over and over again, "I love you." I want them to know that I love and care for them each day. Valentine's Day is just one more day of doing the same in my book.
2. Special treats aren't relegated to "special" days or holidays. Last Saturday, Dawna and I packed the kids up in our Yukon XL, and we headed north. All throughout the journey, the kids were asking where we were going. I replied, "It's a surprise." As we passed through Brenham and headed toward Navasota, my oldest exclaimed as she asked, "Are we going to the Brenham Airport?" I nodded my head yes as the kids shouted with glee. They love going there and watching the airplanes. No rhyme or reason for the special treat. Did it just because, and that's the way special things are to be handled in my book.
3. There is no need to spend money on someone to make them feel special. I know our economy runs on people's willingness to fork over cash, but things have gotten to the point of absurd. In fact, in some ways, I believe some would rather give things instead of something much more precious: time. I can't tell you how many things I've read about kids who had everything materially they could wish for, but they still ended up going down some very dark paths. One common theme in all the stories was the fact that parents and others spent no time with them. Whether it's cuddling with my wife before bed or taking the kids outside and watching them ride bikes or play on the playground, such things are much more important in my book than buying them candy, or cards, or stuffed animals or what have you.
4. Extraordinary love is shown through ordinary acts. Spare me the car commercials. Spare me the jewelery commercials. Spare me the hundred dollar bouquets of flowers. Such things may make some folks melt, and I'm O.K. with that, just don't expect such things from me. My love is poured into the ordinary things I do every day: helping the kids get dressed, buckling them into the car, kissing my wife and telling her, "I love you and be careful," as she drives the kids to school, working diligently at my job, cooking dinner each night since it's one of those things my wife dislikes, helping with homework, planting a garden, fixing toys, changing the oil in the cars, and all the hundreds of things I do around the house. I don't expect my wife to do anything special for me. Good Lord, she does enough already as it is: laundry, cleaning house, taking the kids to school, picking them up from the bus stop, doing the girls' hair, and hundreds of others tasks. We work together to do such things to provide a home, and we do it because we love one another. No other reason. When you stop and realize such things are done with great love, why bother with what the commercials say the day should be about?
5. Don't get caught up in commercialism or the pervasive culture. Perhaps I'm like Charlie Brown in "A Charlie Brown Christmas," but I really don't care. I prefer to do things my own way, and my way tends not to focus on commercialism or consumerism. My way tends to swim against the stream. It can be hard, but I find it much more rewarding. I'm hoping my family finds it to be the case as well.
6. And perhaps most importantly: Jesus said it best, "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." John 15:13. This is love. Real love. I want my family to know this is in my heart. As I look at my wife and my children, I know deep within me, if by my death I can save any of them, then my life would be forfeit. I'd do it without hesitation. Put that on a Hallmark card. Wrap it around a diamond necklace. Bundle it up in a dozen roses and see what it looks like next to all that stuff. In my book, nothing can even come close to conveying the reality of Jesus' statement--nothing.
That's all for now. Bash away if you like. I'm stubborn. I'm a German. You won't change my mind.
http://countrypreacherscorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/valentines-day.html
A few things have changed since last year's post in regards to our family's routine, but I'm still not going to celebrate this holiday.
You see, I have this philosophy about family life and the relationships that I hold dear--I want to make sure the people I am closest to in my life know I love and care about them, and I practice this on a DAILY basis--especially with my wife and kids.
Here's a few things I want them to learn from how I treat them:
1. Show love EVERY day. I'm raising two little girls. When they find someone to spend the rest of their lives with, I hope and pray for a person that lets them know how special they are every day whether it's through hugs, kisses, flowers, cooking for them, unexpectedly doing the dishes or starting laundry, or telling them over and over again, "I love you." I want them to know that I love and care for them each day. Valentine's Day is just one more day of doing the same in my book.
2. Special treats aren't relegated to "special" days or holidays. Last Saturday, Dawna and I packed the kids up in our Yukon XL, and we headed north. All throughout the journey, the kids were asking where we were going. I replied, "It's a surprise." As we passed through Brenham and headed toward Navasota, my oldest exclaimed as she asked, "Are we going to the Brenham Airport?" I nodded my head yes as the kids shouted with glee. They love going there and watching the airplanes. No rhyme or reason for the special treat. Did it just because, and that's the way special things are to be handled in my book.
3. There is no need to spend money on someone to make them feel special. I know our economy runs on people's willingness to fork over cash, but things have gotten to the point of absurd. In fact, in some ways, I believe some would rather give things instead of something much more precious: time. I can't tell you how many things I've read about kids who had everything materially they could wish for, but they still ended up going down some very dark paths. One common theme in all the stories was the fact that parents and others spent no time with them. Whether it's cuddling with my wife before bed or taking the kids outside and watching them ride bikes or play on the playground, such things are much more important in my book than buying them candy, or cards, or stuffed animals or what have you.
4. Extraordinary love is shown through ordinary acts. Spare me the car commercials. Spare me the jewelery commercials. Spare me the hundred dollar bouquets of flowers. Such things may make some folks melt, and I'm O.K. with that, just don't expect such things from me. My love is poured into the ordinary things I do every day: helping the kids get dressed, buckling them into the car, kissing my wife and telling her, "I love you and be careful," as she drives the kids to school, working diligently at my job, cooking dinner each night since it's one of those things my wife dislikes, helping with homework, planting a garden, fixing toys, changing the oil in the cars, and all the hundreds of things I do around the house. I don't expect my wife to do anything special for me. Good Lord, she does enough already as it is: laundry, cleaning house, taking the kids to school, picking them up from the bus stop, doing the girls' hair, and hundreds of others tasks. We work together to do such things to provide a home, and we do it because we love one another. No other reason. When you stop and realize such things are done with great love, why bother with what the commercials say the day should be about?
5. Don't get caught up in commercialism or the pervasive culture. Perhaps I'm like Charlie Brown in "A Charlie Brown Christmas," but I really don't care. I prefer to do things my own way, and my way tends not to focus on commercialism or consumerism. My way tends to swim against the stream. It can be hard, but I find it much more rewarding. I'm hoping my family finds it to be the case as well.
6. And perhaps most importantly: Jesus said it best, "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." John 15:13. This is love. Real love. I want my family to know this is in my heart. As I look at my wife and my children, I know deep within me, if by my death I can save any of them, then my life would be forfeit. I'd do it without hesitation. Put that on a Hallmark card. Wrap it around a diamond necklace. Bundle it up in a dozen roses and see what it looks like next to all that stuff. In my book, nothing can even come close to conveying the reality of Jesus' statement--nothing.
That's all for now. Bash away if you like. I'm stubborn. I'm a German. You won't change my mind.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Sermon Delivered February 12, 2012: He Couldn't Help It
I remember the day as clear as a bell. I was working for the YMCA After-School Program in Williamson County. For four hours each day, we were charged with caring for kids ranging from kindergarten to fifth grade. The particular group of kids I worked with were a hand-full, to say the least. When I arrived at the school, the administration was ready to kick the YMCA out because of their inability to keep the kids in line. It was a rowdy bunch.
We began working with those kids and implementing a program to turn things around. One of the things I noticed was the kids having a difficult time settling in and getting role call done. To ease matters, I began a story time as the kids arrived. The kids honed in on the stories immediately, and it helped transition from school time to Y- time. Of course, since I was a seminary student and this was the Young Men’s Christian Association, I started telling Bible stories.
One week, I took three days to tell the Exodus story about God using Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. I told about the Ten Plagues. I told about the Passover. I told about the flight of the people out into the desert and the deliverance at the Red Sea. At the end of the stories, a young boy came up to me. He looked me right in the eye and said, "Is that story true?"
Now, for most of us sitting here this morning, it’s an easy answer. There would be little or no hesitation on our parts to respond, but you see, at the time, I was at a disadvantage. I had spent four years in college studying theology and almost another year in seminary by this time. During those years, I had been exposed to all sorts of stuff regarding this and other biblical stories. There were some well intentioned folks who were very uncomfortable talking about miracles and other such phenomena found in the Bible. They were afraid the Christian faith wouldn’t make sense in a society very much based in technology and science. Therefore, they tried to remove every sort of super-natural occurrence from scripture and chalk it up to embellishment by the biblical writers.
Even in that Exodus story, they tried to explain the ten plagues as a logical consequence of the Nile River becoming infested with a red tide, which led to fish dying, which led to flies, which led to frogs and so on and so forth. The Israelite’s escape was nowhere near as dramatic according to some of my professors. They probably were not released by the Egyptians as the Bible recorded. Instead, they probably slipped away and ran as fast as they could to evade capture. All of these notions came flying back at me when that little boy asked me, "Is this story true?"
Suddenly, I realized I was at a crossroads in my life of faith. I knew I was at the point of having to make a choice. Would I go down the path of removing the supernatural from scripture? Would I buy what my education had taught me about such things? Could I do that? Could I remove the miraculous from everything including the things done by Jesus including the resurrection? Could I chalk the resurrection up to something that just happened in the minds of the disciples and that it wasn’t a bodily resurrection? All this ran through my head in seconds because of this little boy’s question, "Is it true?"
And I looked him in the eye right back and said, "Yes. It’s true." The choice was made. I would not seek to remove the supernatural from Scripture, and I wouldn’t seek to remove it from my life either. For I believe God did work in such ways as recorded in the Bible. I believe God wrought miracles. I believe Jesus healed the sick and calmed the storm and fed 5000 men plus women and children with only five loaves of bread and two little fish. I believe He died and indeed bodily rose from the dead. I continue to hold onto the belief that God works miracles in our day and age as well. Although they aren’t quite as dramatic as when Jesus did them.
I mean, take a look at our Gospel lesson this morning. Jesus’ healing of the leper this morning is instantaneous. The guy comes running up to Jesus, kneels at Jesus’ feet and says, "If you choose, you can make me clean."
Jesus is moved with pity as He looks at the guy. He knows the guy’s been cast out of his village and community. He knows the guy can’t work and is at the mercy of anyone who might share a loaf of bread. He knows many think that God is punishing this leper by giving him the disease. All of this Jesus knows and understands as He touches the man and says, "I do choose. Be made clean!"
Mark includes the word, "immediately" to show how quickly the healing took place. "Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean." It happened fast. The guy was cured and could go back to his family and friends; could go back to work; and could rest easy knowing God wasn’t punishing him. It was a tremendous thing having Jesus heal him.
I’ve witnessed my own share of miracles; although, I must confess the healings that I have seen have taken a little longer. Most recently, I saw one that left my jaw hanging on the floor. Roughly three weeks ago, I headed to Bellville to visit the Gardner family. I was way ahead of schedule, so I decided to stop in at Colonial Belle and check on Anita Wolchik. I entered, and Anita was sitting in her wheelchair right at the entrance watching television. She saw me, and her face lit up. I raced up to her and gave her a big hug. I squatted by her chair to get closer to her to hear what she might have to say.
Anita’s speech still isn’t all the way back, and it can be difficult to have a conversation with her, but I do manage to catch several words. If I work really hard, I can understand quite a bit of what she has to say. For several minutes we talked, and I asked how she was getting along in her therapy. She replied, "O.k." I asked if she was getting stronger, and she said, "Yeah." But she wasn’t content to tell me this. She wanted to show me. She grasped the handles of her wheelchair, and she stood up on her own power!
Now, some of you might think, "Ho-hum. So, she stood up. What’s the big deal?"
Here’s the big deal. Six months ago, she had a stroke that destroyed half of her brain. She spent weeks in the hospital recovering from that only to have open heart surgery which knocked her back even more. She endured months in hospitals and rehab centers, and some of those experiences were downright horrible. At times, I wouldn’t have given a plugged nickel that she would have lasted a week. For quite some time, she couldn’t use one side of her body. I can’t tell you how many prayers I and others lifted up about her asking God to heal her. And here she was, standing. On her own. With no assistance. My eyes started watering.
Shortly thereafter, I had to leave to keep my appointment, but after visiting the Gardners, I headed straight home. I sat down on my computer and blogged about the experience. I couldn’t keep it under wraps. I had to share what had happened. Sure, Anita had doctors and nurses caring for her. She had undergone quite a bit of therapy, but after all I had seen with her, you can’t convince me this was the only thing that had led up to that moment. God was working His healing on her. It was just taking some time. And I had to tell about it.
The guy who had been healed from his leprosy had to tell about it too. Jesus had commanded him to remain silent, but he just couldn’t help it. He had to share. He had to let everyone know what God had done. He had been touched by Jesus and healed. There was no holding back. The former leper spread the word and showed evidence of what Christ had done in his life, and folks flocked to see Jesus.
It makes me wonder about how often do we talk about what Christ has done in our lives? How often do we share how He has touched us or touched those who we know? How often do we proclaim His goodness and His mercy? How often do we point the way to Him especially with those who are hurting? Do we sit in silence? Do we think Jesus commands us to be silent? Perhaps, just perhaps we are called to be like that healed leper who couldn’t help himself. Perhaps, just perhaps, we are called to be so excited about having Christ in our lives and making a difference in them that we are called to share that news with others. And perhaps, just perhaps, folks might just flock from all around to be touched by Him as well. Amen.
We began working with those kids and implementing a program to turn things around. One of the things I noticed was the kids having a difficult time settling in and getting role call done. To ease matters, I began a story time as the kids arrived. The kids honed in on the stories immediately, and it helped transition from school time to Y- time. Of course, since I was a seminary student and this was the Young Men’s Christian Association, I started telling Bible stories.
One week, I took three days to tell the Exodus story about God using Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. I told about the Ten Plagues. I told about the Passover. I told about the flight of the people out into the desert and the deliverance at the Red Sea. At the end of the stories, a young boy came up to me. He looked me right in the eye and said, "Is that story true?"
Now, for most of us sitting here this morning, it’s an easy answer. There would be little or no hesitation on our parts to respond, but you see, at the time, I was at a disadvantage. I had spent four years in college studying theology and almost another year in seminary by this time. During those years, I had been exposed to all sorts of stuff regarding this and other biblical stories. There were some well intentioned folks who were very uncomfortable talking about miracles and other such phenomena found in the Bible. They were afraid the Christian faith wouldn’t make sense in a society very much based in technology and science. Therefore, they tried to remove every sort of super-natural occurrence from scripture and chalk it up to embellishment by the biblical writers.
Even in that Exodus story, they tried to explain the ten plagues as a logical consequence of the Nile River becoming infested with a red tide, which led to fish dying, which led to flies, which led to frogs and so on and so forth. The Israelite’s escape was nowhere near as dramatic according to some of my professors. They probably were not released by the Egyptians as the Bible recorded. Instead, they probably slipped away and ran as fast as they could to evade capture. All of these notions came flying back at me when that little boy asked me, "Is this story true?"
Suddenly, I realized I was at a crossroads in my life of faith. I knew I was at the point of having to make a choice. Would I go down the path of removing the supernatural from scripture? Would I buy what my education had taught me about such things? Could I do that? Could I remove the miraculous from everything including the things done by Jesus including the resurrection? Could I chalk the resurrection up to something that just happened in the minds of the disciples and that it wasn’t a bodily resurrection? All this ran through my head in seconds because of this little boy’s question, "Is it true?"
And I looked him in the eye right back and said, "Yes. It’s true." The choice was made. I would not seek to remove the supernatural from Scripture, and I wouldn’t seek to remove it from my life either. For I believe God did work in such ways as recorded in the Bible. I believe God wrought miracles. I believe Jesus healed the sick and calmed the storm and fed 5000 men plus women and children with only five loaves of bread and two little fish. I believe He died and indeed bodily rose from the dead. I continue to hold onto the belief that God works miracles in our day and age as well. Although they aren’t quite as dramatic as when Jesus did them.
I mean, take a look at our Gospel lesson this morning. Jesus’ healing of the leper this morning is instantaneous. The guy comes running up to Jesus, kneels at Jesus’ feet and says, "If you choose, you can make me clean."
Jesus is moved with pity as He looks at the guy. He knows the guy’s been cast out of his village and community. He knows the guy can’t work and is at the mercy of anyone who might share a loaf of bread. He knows many think that God is punishing this leper by giving him the disease. All of this Jesus knows and understands as He touches the man and says, "I do choose. Be made clean!"
Mark includes the word, "immediately" to show how quickly the healing took place. "Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean." It happened fast. The guy was cured and could go back to his family and friends; could go back to work; and could rest easy knowing God wasn’t punishing him. It was a tremendous thing having Jesus heal him.
I’ve witnessed my own share of miracles; although, I must confess the healings that I have seen have taken a little longer. Most recently, I saw one that left my jaw hanging on the floor. Roughly three weeks ago, I headed to Bellville to visit the Gardner family. I was way ahead of schedule, so I decided to stop in at Colonial Belle and check on Anita Wolchik. I entered, and Anita was sitting in her wheelchair right at the entrance watching television. She saw me, and her face lit up. I raced up to her and gave her a big hug. I squatted by her chair to get closer to her to hear what she might have to say.
Anita’s speech still isn’t all the way back, and it can be difficult to have a conversation with her, but I do manage to catch several words. If I work really hard, I can understand quite a bit of what she has to say. For several minutes we talked, and I asked how she was getting along in her therapy. She replied, "O.k." I asked if she was getting stronger, and she said, "Yeah." But she wasn’t content to tell me this. She wanted to show me. She grasped the handles of her wheelchair, and she stood up on her own power!
Now, some of you might think, "Ho-hum. So, she stood up. What’s the big deal?"
Here’s the big deal. Six months ago, she had a stroke that destroyed half of her brain. She spent weeks in the hospital recovering from that only to have open heart surgery which knocked her back even more. She endured months in hospitals and rehab centers, and some of those experiences were downright horrible. At times, I wouldn’t have given a plugged nickel that she would have lasted a week. For quite some time, she couldn’t use one side of her body. I can’t tell you how many prayers I and others lifted up about her asking God to heal her. And here she was, standing. On her own. With no assistance. My eyes started watering.
Shortly thereafter, I had to leave to keep my appointment, but after visiting the Gardners, I headed straight home. I sat down on my computer and blogged about the experience. I couldn’t keep it under wraps. I had to share what had happened. Sure, Anita had doctors and nurses caring for her. She had undergone quite a bit of therapy, but after all I had seen with her, you can’t convince me this was the only thing that had led up to that moment. God was working His healing on her. It was just taking some time. And I had to tell about it.
The guy who had been healed from his leprosy had to tell about it too. Jesus had commanded him to remain silent, but he just couldn’t help it. He had to share. He had to let everyone know what God had done. He had been touched by Jesus and healed. There was no holding back. The former leper spread the word and showed evidence of what Christ had done in his life, and folks flocked to see Jesus.
It makes me wonder about how often do we talk about what Christ has done in our lives? How often do we share how He has touched us or touched those who we know? How often do we proclaim His goodness and His mercy? How often do we point the way to Him especially with those who are hurting? Do we sit in silence? Do we think Jesus commands us to be silent? Perhaps, just perhaps we are called to be like that healed leper who couldn’t help himself. Perhaps, just perhaps, we are called to be so excited about having Christ in our lives and making a difference in them that we are called to share that news with others. And perhaps, just perhaps, folks might just flock from all around to be touched by Him as well. Amen.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
A Tale of Two Deaths
Last night, I received word of two deaths. I spent a bit of time reflecting upon the news.
One offered the world her voice.
One offered only the sweat of his brow.
One sang for millions.
One fixed the machines that allowed millions to travel to work.
One gave the tabloids headlines, gossip, and marital twists of all sorts.
One gave over 50 years of marriage to his wife, raised three kids, and got a simple mention in the local paper.
One enjoyed all the comforts money could buy.
One lived without air conditioning in one of the hottest states in the U.S.
One rode in limos, chartered jets, and walked the red carpet.
One drove a beat up pickup and walked his pasture covered with cattle droppings.
One was considered a diva.
One would have punched you if you even suggested he was.
Millions will shed tears for one.
A few hundred will gather for the other.
Celebrities will gather and sing praises of one.
Ordinary "Janes and Joes" will gather for the other.
The world will take notice of one.
A community will grieve the other.
Both are children of God.
I have no doubts about this.
But I will miss one much more than the other.
Wonder if you can guess which?
One offered the world her voice.
One offered only the sweat of his brow.
One sang for millions.
One fixed the machines that allowed millions to travel to work.
One gave the tabloids headlines, gossip, and marital twists of all sorts.
One gave over 50 years of marriage to his wife, raised three kids, and got a simple mention in the local paper.
One enjoyed all the comforts money could buy.
One lived without air conditioning in one of the hottest states in the U.S.
One rode in limos, chartered jets, and walked the red carpet.
One drove a beat up pickup and walked his pasture covered with cattle droppings.
One was considered a diva.
One would have punched you if you even suggested he was.
Millions will shed tears for one.
A few hundred will gather for the other.
Celebrities will gather and sing praises of one.
Ordinary "Janes and Joes" will gather for the other.
The world will take notice of one.
A community will grieve the other.
Both are children of God.
I have no doubts about this.
But I will miss one much more than the other.
Wonder if you can guess which?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)