This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on October 28, 2007, the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
Joel 2:23-32
Psalm 65
2Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Luke 18:9-14
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Something I haven’t mentioned about Luke’s gospel in a long time is that it was the gospel for the city people of God. Mark’s gospel was first and written for the Palestinian masses. Matthew’s gospel was written second and was intended to be read and studied by Christ worshiping Jews. Luke’s gospel, the third of the gospels written, was intended for a more sophisticated, more educated audience. Luke’s gospel was for the Greeks and the Romans, the learned cultured city people. Where the first two were written in the Greek of the small town, Luke’s was written in a more formal language. Not quite the formal Greek of Socrates or Plato, but more formal than the other gospels. We might see it as the difference between the “Good News” or the “New Living” translations of the bible compared to the King James version. Luke’s is the hoidy toidy gospel.
The first time praying is mentioned in Luke’s gospel is when Zacharias was told by the messenger that his wife Elizabeth would bear him a son, the man who would be known as John the Baptist. There are seven more times when Luke talks specifically about Jesus praying. Jesus prays when he is baptized. He prays on the mountainside. He prays for himself. He prays for his disciples. He prays for the church. He prays for you and me. He prays in seclusion. He prays with others. He prays in the garden. And as he prays in the garden sweat drops from his brow like great drops of blood.
Our reading today is one of the five times that Jesus teaches about praying. Other times include the Lord’s Prayer, the story of the Widow and the Unjust Judge, Jesus denouncing the way the Scribes pray, Jesus telling the masses to pray for those who abuse them, and today’s lesson, Jesus describing the praying of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector.
So given these bits of the history of the canon and this lexicon of Lukan praying scripture, I want you to know something special about Luke’s gospel. There are more stories about praying in Luke’s gospel than in all of the other gospels combined.[1] Even John’s gospel, the most ethereal, the most spiritual of the gospels; doesn’t mention prayer or praying even once. But the city Gospel, the Gospel written by the good physician, Luke has thirteen different praying stories. So it seems to me, that the writers and editors and translators of Luke’s gospel thought praying is of great importance for the people receiving this message of the Good News.
Let me say that again, in my opinion, the writers and editors and translators of Luke’s gospel thought praying is of great importance for the people receiving this message of the Good News. Ordinarily you might expect me to say that Jesus though praying was important. And of course, this is true. You might also have expected me to say that Luke thought prayer was important. And I believe this is true too. But what I said, what I meant is that praying, prayer, is important for the people of God. Praying is so important that Luke included thirteen stories about prayers being offered or when praying is discussed.
And when you would look at the gospels and their intended audiences, compared to the other gospels, Luke’s Gospel would be the one directed toward Americans in general, and I believe Presbyterians in particular.
Prayer is important to the body of Christ called Presbyterians too. The Book of Order, the second part of the constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) contains some form of the word “pray” over 200 times.[2]
“Prayer is at the heart of worship. In prayer, through the Holy Spirit, people seek after and are found by the one true God who has been revealed in Jesus Christ. They listen and wait upon God, call God by name, remember God’s gracious acts, and offer themselves to God. Prayer may be spoken, sung, offered in silence, or enacted. Prayer grows out of the center of a person’s life in response to the Spirit. Prayer is shaped by the Word of God in Scripture and by the life of the community of faith. Prayer issues in commitment to join God’s work in the world.”[3]
“In prayer we respond to God in many ways. In adoration we praise God for who God is. In thanksgiving we express gratitude for what God has done. In confession we acknowledge repentance for what we as individuals and as a people have done or left undone. In supplication we plead for ourselves and the gathered community. In intercession we plead for others, on behalf of others, and for the whole world. In self-dedication we offer ourselves to the purpose and glory of God.”[4]
There is even a liturgy for a service of daily prayer. In this service, “Prayers may be spoken, sung, enacted, and offered in silence. Daily prayer affords a unique opportunity for silence and meditation in community. Prayer in all its dimensions should be offered with special attention to the public and personal concerns of the community.” [5]
All of this comes out of the Book of Order. I think we’re on to something here.
Here, Luke gives us a picture of prayer. In this reading, praying is done in public, aloud, as a part of the service of worship. The usual manner of prayer in the temple was standing, with arms outstretched and palms raised and eyes uplifted.[6] Many prayers were offered as call-and-response, like we do with our Call to Worship. And as we do with our Call to Worship, these prayers were often taken from the Psalms.
But the two men praying in this parable are outside of the ordinary in the temple. One, the Pharisee, is all too glad to thank God that he was not like other people, thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like the tax collector. He then tells God, and all who are there to hear him, that he meets the temple requirements for fasting and tithing.
I bet it was a joy to share a pew with him.
The first unusual piece of this reading is that the man is standing by himself. This is odd because separating himself from the assembly; he separates himself from the people of God. Then again, that seems to be the idea of his prayer, he is separate from the heathen masses who have come to the temple. He is different; he should separate himself from the masses.
But this isn’t the only unusual thing about his prayer. Other translations say “he stood up and prayed about himself” where our translation said “standing by himself, he was praying.”[7] This is one of those hinky little translation things that I say pop up in the Greek from time to time. Translating the passage this way, he does not separate himself from the masses. On the contrary, he stands right in the middle of the people and he prays out loud “God, I thank you that I am not like these clowns. I do as you command.”
Then the Tax Collector prays in an unusual way. He’s standing far away from the assembly. He isn’t looking up. His hands are wrapped around him, even beating his chest. And he prays a prayer of humble sincerity. “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
Jesus then reminds the world that the first will be last and the last will be first. All who exalt themselves, lift themselves up, will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted. If we want our rewards while on earth that’s one choice; but that’s it. Like the rich man and Lazarus from a couple of weeks ago, those who seek life through themselves will get the good life, but those who humble themselves before the Lord God will receive the gift of eternal life.
In the end though, we must be warned against something very seductive in reading this passage. It is tempting to say that we’re glad that we are nothing like this Pharisee. We know our limitations. We know that we must be humble before the Lord. We have to take our needs to the mercy seat of God. But it’s tempting to say, “Thank God I’m not like that Pharisee. Thank God I’m not like that clown. I do as you command.” But beware; when we do that, we use the same words that the Pharisee uses to condemn himself.
Instead, we need to use the words the Tax Collector might have used that very day. The words of Psalm 65, the words we used in our Call to Worship:
To you that hear prayer shall all flesh come,
because of their transgressions.
Our sins are stronger than we are,
but you will blot them out.
We are called to pray. We are called to pray alone. We are called to pray in groups. We are called to pray in the assembly. We are called to pray at home. We are called to pray in silence, in spoken word, and in song. We are called to pray in quiet meditation. We are called to pray in action. We are called to pray without ceasing; our life is to be lived as a constant prayer. We pray for your mercy, O Lord. We pray for your strength and your protection. We pray for your grace. And above all, we pray with arms out stretched and palms up lifted, our eyes toward heaven and we give thanks for your Son Jesus Christ, through whom this has all ready been accomplished.
[1] Using BibleWorks to search the gospels for verb forms of “I pray,” I found six stories in Matthew’s and in Mark’s gospels and none in John’s. Luke’s gospel has thirteen praying stories.
[2] Adobe search of the word “pray” allowing for partial word hits in the PDF form of The Book of Order, Part II of the Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). 2007-2009 Edition. The Office of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.); Louisville, Kentucky, 2007.
[3] Ibid. W-2.1001
[4] Ibid. W-2.1002
[5] Ibid. W-3.4003
[6] “My Bad,” Homiletics Online, http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=93040341 accessed August 20, 2007.
[7] Among other translations, the New International Version renders this verse “prayed about himself” and the New American Standard Bible renders this verse “he was praying this to himself.”
Showing posts with label praying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label praying. Show all posts
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Telling God What To Do, Part II
Hosea 1:2-10
Psalm 85
Colossians 2:6-15
Luke 11:1-15
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
There’s an old saying: there’s no such thing as a stupid question. But did you know that this question has a corollary: there’s no such thing as a stupid question, but there are plenty of stupid answers. Last week I ended with a simple question, how should we pray? I have heard some pretty stupid answers to this question. And if pressed, I am sure that I have given my share of pretty stupid answers to it too.
This question, how should we pray, is as old as humanity. From the moment we sensed, from the moment we knew there was a presence more powerful than us prayer of one form or another has been a part of life. Sometimes the answer has involved blood sacrifice—both animal and human, sometimes a sacrifice of praise. Sometimes it has involved memorized prayer recited by rote, sometimes spontaneous prayer lifted in the moment. Sometimes it is in the language of the priests, sometimes in the language of the people, and sometimes in the language of the angels. This is such a good question, it was asked by Jesus’ disciples.
In ancient Judea, it was common for Rabbis to teach their disciples how to pray. Based on what the unnamed disciple requested, John must have taught his disciples to pray a certain way. So if John can teach his disciples to pray, surely Jesus could teach his disciples to pray too. Teaching his disciples to pray, Jesus gives us five simple petitions:
“Hallowed be,” or “make holy the name of the Father.”
“The Father’s Kingdom come.”
“Give us the bread we need for today”. Though this could also be translated “Give us the bread we need for tomorrow.”
“Forgive our sins, for we forgive all who are indebted to us.”
And “Do not bring us into sin’s temptation.” Another way to say this is “do not bring us to a time of trial or testing.”
That’s it, five little petitions. Two or three of them (depending on how you translate the petition for bread) deal with the future, the end times when God’s kingdom comes.
In this time God’s name will be sanctified throughout the cosmos. In a time when people of the earth prayed to a Parthenon of gods, we pray that the name of the Lord alone be made holy. In a time when people put so much before the praise and worship of the one true God, whether it be nationalism, or economics, or some other thing, we are called to pray for a time when God’s name alone stands before us holy and as pure as light.
We pray the Father’s kingdom come. This part is a little tough, not everyone has good fathers, shadowing the view of a heavenly Father. When appearing before the Presbytery of Arkansas’ Committee on Preparation for Ministry I called the first person of the Trinity “Father” much to the chagrin of some of the members. They asked me if I thought it was appropriate to use paternal images in a world where not all fathers are present, much less good.
I know people who do not have good fathers, so imagining God as a good father is difficult for some. This leaves two choices; one is to find another name for “God the Father.” Any of you who followed last year’s General Assembly in Birmingham know the donnybrook that followed the introduction and reception of the report on this very issue. The report wasn’t even accepted, it was just received, and the fallout hasn’t ended yet. So while other images of the first person of the Trinity have value and validity, it is dangerous ground to tread, the Presbyterian equivalent of theological quicksand.
The other choice, and to me a more productive choice, is to rehabilitate the image of fatherhood through God’s fatherly presence. We have to learn that in prayer “we must ask for a response and expect that God will respond in a way above and beyond our human experiences with one another.”[1] We have to learn that God is a father who is better than our fathers have been and could ever be. In this turn we are called to be the children of God, children who follow our heavenly father in ways we could never follow our earthly fathers.
In one part of Jesus’ explanation he notes that if we were parents of a child asking for a gift, we would give good gifts. We would never give a snake instead of a fish or a scorpion instead of an egg. Even though we are evil, we know better than that. This whole “evil” word takes a beating, we are bound to hope and pray something like “yeah, we have a sinful nature, but do you have to say evil?” There is some conjecture that Jesus was exaggerating to make a point—evil is a harsh word and he intended to make a sharp comparison. Then again, compared to the Good Father, our Father in Heaven, we cannot be “good.”
We should note that the neighbor did not respond to the friend in need out of the goodness of his heart, he responded to his neighbor’s shameless persistence and out of what he feared his other neighbors would think of him if he had denied hospitality to another. He acted out of obligation, not goodness, so imagine the action of the Lord our God who acts out of perfect loving goodness.
In God’s kingdom is all of the bread we will need for tomorrow, in God’s coming kingdom we will never be hungry again. Still we must remember that the bread Jesus refers to is not some frilly loaf from a specialty baker. It’s more like a flatbread pita or tortilla than a fancy foccacia. No sundried tomato basil dill herb concoction. But with this simple bread, we will never be hungry again.
The other three petitions (again, depending on how you translate the petition for bread) deal with our most basic daily needs, bread, forgiveness, and (in a word) protection.
Bread was the most basic food made by the ancient Israelites. Asking for daily bread harkens us back to the days of the exodus when God provided the daily bread of manna for the nation. Every day, the people were told to gather as much as they needed, and no more, because they were to depend upon the Lord for their daily bread. The only exception to this was the day before the Sabbath when they were to gather two days worth, bread both for today and for tomorrow, since no work was to be done on the Sabbath. Everything that’s old is new again when God again provides daily bread for the people.
Forgiveness is, in its own way, bread for the soul, without it we cannot live. What’s unusual about this petition is that we ask for forgiveness “for we forgive all being indebted to us.” This looks like we ask God to give us what we have all ready given others. This would be true if we assumed we could fully forgive another in the sinful world we live in, but we know this is impossible. This is only possible in God’s kingdom, where we share in God’s good grace and receive God’s good gifts, including forgiveness.
Finally we pray not to be lead into temptation. On the way to the kingdom, the ancient Jews faced many trials and temptations, many of them coming from the many gods (that with a lower case “g”) of the ancient world. Temptations on the road to the kingdom distract us from the true goal of our lives in the Lord, and so we pray not to be distracted.
We look to the future of God’s kingdom while we live in the world today. Really there is nothing terribly complicated about this prayer. It’s a prayer for today and a prayer for tomorrow. A prayer for now, and prayer for what is not yet.
This can be a difficult prayer though.
We are called to pray “Our Father in heaven,” but fail to embrace all people as his children.
We are called to pray, “Your kingdom come,” without working for the kingdom on earth.
We are called to pray for our daily bread but do not recognize it as God’s good gift to the world.
We are called to pray for forgiveness for ourselves, but we fail to offer pardon to others.
We plead not to be led by God into times of trial, but walk willingly into temptations we find on our own.
We tend to honor God with our lips, but fail to honor God with our lives.[2]
We pray as we are taught, but with this prayer we are called to a way of life we often do not live up to. This kingdom of heaven, far from the condition we live in on any kind of permanence, is one still that we can live in for moments at a time.
I was talking on the phone with Rev. Lieu Smith[3] on Thursday and he was taking about working at the Loaves and Fishes Food Bank the previous day. He told me that on Wednesday, a fifty-one families came into the food bank seeking assistance. Fifty-one families, somewhere in the neighborhood of two-hundred to two-hundred-and-fifty people were served that day. Lieu estimated they distributed 2,000 pounds of canned food and another 4,000 pounds of commodities. Three tons of food left the food bank that day.
Lieu also told me that about 100 backpacks, almost 30% of the inventory left the food bank in the hands of children that day. The head of the food bank told Lieu she wished “the Presbyterians had been on hand to see the smiles on the faces of the children as they received their backpacks and school supplies.”
When we pray for the kingdom to come, we pray with an eye to when Jesus comes again. In the meantime, we are called to act in a way as if the kingdom has come. Doing this, we walk in the footsteps of Jesus in the way that he walked the earth. This is like lightening striking. It doesn’t last long, it happens in the blink of an eye. But when it happens, it comes with a thunder that announces its arrival. And the place where the lightening strikes is never quite the same.
When through the grace and bounty of the Lord we supply three-hundred-and-forty back packs of school supplies, we participate in the coming of the kingdom. We donated over a quarter-ton of goods to the inbreaking of the kingdom of heaven. Every smile on every child’s face, every bit of learning helped along by this effort, every dollar left in the pocket of an impoverished parent not spent on school supplies is a bolt of lightening striking from the kingdom of God for the kingdom of God. And the rumble of its thunder will be heard here in Berryville and in the kingdom for ages to come.
In the end, Luke gives us reassurance of God’s faithful nature. We are told to ask and it will be given; we are told to seek and we will find; we are told to knock and it will be opened, but the prayer makes it clear that we must ask and seek and knock in obedience to the five petitions. This is what Jesus tells us to pray.
So here we are again, we are telling God what to do. Being faithful servants of the one true Lord requires we pray. We are to pray in reverence and in love to a Father who loves us first. We are called to pray for our daily needs and for the coming of the kingdom. So when we pray, when we pray in accord with the Lord’s Prayer are we really telling God what to do? In a way we are, but when we are in accord with the Lord, we are praying in obedience to what the Lord wants for us for today and forever. Let God tell us what to do, and let us pray that God may do it through us.
There are no stupid questions. And I pray, by the grace of God, this isn’t a stupid answer.
[1] Douglas Strome, Joy, “Living by the Word, Prayer power,” Christian Century. vol 124, no 14, July 10,2007, page 19.
[2] This section is based on a Prayer of Confession found in Homiletics Magazine, online version, http://homileticsonline.com/subscribe.printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=93000008 accessed June 11, 2007
[3] Lieu is the Pastor of the Community of Christ church in Berryville, Arkansas and very active in the Berryville Ministerial Alliance and the Loaves and Fishes Food Bank of the Ozarks. This information was relayed in a phone conversation on Thursday July 26, 2007.
Psalm 85
Colossians 2:6-15
Luke 11:1-15
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
There’s an old saying: there’s no such thing as a stupid question. But did you know that this question has a corollary: there’s no such thing as a stupid question, but there are plenty of stupid answers. Last week I ended with a simple question, how should we pray? I have heard some pretty stupid answers to this question. And if pressed, I am sure that I have given my share of pretty stupid answers to it too.
This question, how should we pray, is as old as humanity. From the moment we sensed, from the moment we knew there was a presence more powerful than us prayer of one form or another has been a part of life. Sometimes the answer has involved blood sacrifice—both animal and human, sometimes a sacrifice of praise. Sometimes it has involved memorized prayer recited by rote, sometimes spontaneous prayer lifted in the moment. Sometimes it is in the language of the priests, sometimes in the language of the people, and sometimes in the language of the angels. This is such a good question, it was asked by Jesus’ disciples.
In ancient Judea, it was common for Rabbis to teach their disciples how to pray. Based on what the unnamed disciple requested, John must have taught his disciples to pray a certain way. So if John can teach his disciples to pray, surely Jesus could teach his disciples to pray too. Teaching his disciples to pray, Jesus gives us five simple petitions:
“Hallowed be,” or “make holy the name of the Father.”
“The Father’s Kingdom come.”
“Give us the bread we need for today”. Though this could also be translated “Give us the bread we need for tomorrow.”
“Forgive our sins, for we forgive all who are indebted to us.”
And “Do not bring us into sin’s temptation.” Another way to say this is “do not bring us to a time of trial or testing.”
That’s it, five little petitions. Two or three of them (depending on how you translate the petition for bread) deal with the future, the end times when God’s kingdom comes.
In this time God’s name will be sanctified throughout the cosmos. In a time when people of the earth prayed to a Parthenon of gods, we pray that the name of the Lord alone be made holy. In a time when people put so much before the praise and worship of the one true God, whether it be nationalism, or economics, or some other thing, we are called to pray for a time when God’s name alone stands before us holy and as pure as light.
We pray the Father’s kingdom come. This part is a little tough, not everyone has good fathers, shadowing the view of a heavenly Father. When appearing before the Presbytery of Arkansas’ Committee on Preparation for Ministry I called the first person of the Trinity “Father” much to the chagrin of some of the members. They asked me if I thought it was appropriate to use paternal images in a world where not all fathers are present, much less good.
I know people who do not have good fathers, so imagining God as a good father is difficult for some. This leaves two choices; one is to find another name for “God the Father.” Any of you who followed last year’s General Assembly in Birmingham know the donnybrook that followed the introduction and reception of the report on this very issue. The report wasn’t even accepted, it was just received, and the fallout hasn’t ended yet. So while other images of the first person of the Trinity have value and validity, it is dangerous ground to tread, the Presbyterian equivalent of theological quicksand.
The other choice, and to me a more productive choice, is to rehabilitate the image of fatherhood through God’s fatherly presence. We have to learn that in prayer “we must ask for a response and expect that God will respond in a way above and beyond our human experiences with one another.”[1] We have to learn that God is a father who is better than our fathers have been and could ever be. In this turn we are called to be the children of God, children who follow our heavenly father in ways we could never follow our earthly fathers.
In one part of Jesus’ explanation he notes that if we were parents of a child asking for a gift, we would give good gifts. We would never give a snake instead of a fish or a scorpion instead of an egg. Even though we are evil, we know better than that. This whole “evil” word takes a beating, we are bound to hope and pray something like “yeah, we have a sinful nature, but do you have to say evil?” There is some conjecture that Jesus was exaggerating to make a point—evil is a harsh word and he intended to make a sharp comparison. Then again, compared to the Good Father, our Father in Heaven, we cannot be “good.”
We should note that the neighbor did not respond to the friend in need out of the goodness of his heart, he responded to his neighbor’s shameless persistence and out of what he feared his other neighbors would think of him if he had denied hospitality to another. He acted out of obligation, not goodness, so imagine the action of the Lord our God who acts out of perfect loving goodness.
In God’s kingdom is all of the bread we will need for tomorrow, in God’s coming kingdom we will never be hungry again. Still we must remember that the bread Jesus refers to is not some frilly loaf from a specialty baker. It’s more like a flatbread pita or tortilla than a fancy foccacia. No sundried tomato basil dill herb concoction. But with this simple bread, we will never be hungry again.
The other three petitions (again, depending on how you translate the petition for bread) deal with our most basic daily needs, bread, forgiveness, and (in a word) protection.
Bread was the most basic food made by the ancient Israelites. Asking for daily bread harkens us back to the days of the exodus when God provided the daily bread of manna for the nation. Every day, the people were told to gather as much as they needed, and no more, because they were to depend upon the Lord for their daily bread. The only exception to this was the day before the Sabbath when they were to gather two days worth, bread both for today and for tomorrow, since no work was to be done on the Sabbath. Everything that’s old is new again when God again provides daily bread for the people.
Forgiveness is, in its own way, bread for the soul, without it we cannot live. What’s unusual about this petition is that we ask for forgiveness “for we forgive all being indebted to us.” This looks like we ask God to give us what we have all ready given others. This would be true if we assumed we could fully forgive another in the sinful world we live in, but we know this is impossible. This is only possible in God’s kingdom, where we share in God’s good grace and receive God’s good gifts, including forgiveness.
Finally we pray not to be lead into temptation. On the way to the kingdom, the ancient Jews faced many trials and temptations, many of them coming from the many gods (that with a lower case “g”) of the ancient world. Temptations on the road to the kingdom distract us from the true goal of our lives in the Lord, and so we pray not to be distracted.
We look to the future of God’s kingdom while we live in the world today. Really there is nothing terribly complicated about this prayer. It’s a prayer for today and a prayer for tomorrow. A prayer for now, and prayer for what is not yet.
This can be a difficult prayer though.
We are called to pray “Our Father in heaven,” but fail to embrace all people as his children.
We are called to pray, “Your kingdom come,” without working for the kingdom on earth.
We are called to pray for our daily bread but do not recognize it as God’s good gift to the world.
We are called to pray for forgiveness for ourselves, but we fail to offer pardon to others.
We plead not to be led by God into times of trial, but walk willingly into temptations we find on our own.
We tend to honor God with our lips, but fail to honor God with our lives.[2]
We pray as we are taught, but with this prayer we are called to a way of life we often do not live up to. This kingdom of heaven, far from the condition we live in on any kind of permanence, is one still that we can live in for moments at a time.
I was talking on the phone with Rev. Lieu Smith[3] on Thursday and he was taking about working at the Loaves and Fishes Food Bank the previous day. He told me that on Wednesday, a fifty-one families came into the food bank seeking assistance. Fifty-one families, somewhere in the neighborhood of two-hundred to two-hundred-and-fifty people were served that day. Lieu estimated they distributed 2,000 pounds of canned food and another 4,000 pounds of commodities. Three tons of food left the food bank that day.
Lieu also told me that about 100 backpacks, almost 30% of the inventory left the food bank in the hands of children that day. The head of the food bank told Lieu she wished “the Presbyterians had been on hand to see the smiles on the faces of the children as they received their backpacks and school supplies.”
When we pray for the kingdom to come, we pray with an eye to when Jesus comes again. In the meantime, we are called to act in a way as if the kingdom has come. Doing this, we walk in the footsteps of Jesus in the way that he walked the earth. This is like lightening striking. It doesn’t last long, it happens in the blink of an eye. But when it happens, it comes with a thunder that announces its arrival. And the place where the lightening strikes is never quite the same.
When through the grace and bounty of the Lord we supply three-hundred-and-forty back packs of school supplies, we participate in the coming of the kingdom. We donated over a quarter-ton of goods to the inbreaking of the kingdom of heaven. Every smile on every child’s face, every bit of learning helped along by this effort, every dollar left in the pocket of an impoverished parent not spent on school supplies is a bolt of lightening striking from the kingdom of God for the kingdom of God. And the rumble of its thunder will be heard here in Berryville and in the kingdom for ages to come.
In the end, Luke gives us reassurance of God’s faithful nature. We are told to ask and it will be given; we are told to seek and we will find; we are told to knock and it will be opened, but the prayer makes it clear that we must ask and seek and knock in obedience to the five petitions. This is what Jesus tells us to pray.
So here we are again, we are telling God what to do. Being faithful servants of the one true Lord requires we pray. We are to pray in reverence and in love to a Father who loves us first. We are called to pray for our daily needs and for the coming of the kingdom. So when we pray, when we pray in accord with the Lord’s Prayer are we really telling God what to do? In a way we are, but when we are in accord with the Lord, we are praying in obedience to what the Lord wants for us for today and forever. Let God tell us what to do, and let us pray that God may do it through us.
There are no stupid questions. And I pray, by the grace of God, this isn’t a stupid answer.
[1] Douglas Strome, Joy, “Living by the Word, Prayer power,” Christian Century. vol 124, no 14, July 10,2007, page 19.
[2] This section is based on a Prayer of Confession found in Homiletics Magazine, online version, http://homileticsonline.com/subscribe.printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=93000008 accessed June 11, 2007
[3] Lieu is the Pastor of the Community of Christ church in Berryville, Arkansas and very active in the Berryville Ministerial Alliance and the Loaves and Fishes Food Bank of the Ozarks. This information was relayed in a phone conversation on Thursday July 26, 2007.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Telling God What To Do
This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 22, 2007.
Amos 8:1-12
Psalm 52
Colossians 1:15-28
Luke 10:38-42
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
Years ago, at the Mount Comfort Presbyterian Church, an elder[1] was filling the pulpit for the regular pastor when he was on vacation. This was the children’s sermon:
He told a story of a group of children who lived by the sea in times long ago. They were finishing school for the year and if the weather was good, they were promised by their teacher that they would go to the beach at the cove for a picnic. All of the children had hoped and prayed for good weather so that they might have their picnic, but the weather that day was most foul; the rain fell in sheets, lightning lit up the cloud darkened skies, and thunder rumbled across the county. It was hardly a day for a picnic. All of the children were disappointed. Several threw tantrums that God and teacher were not able to give them their picnic.
But unbeknownst to anyone…a ship of pirates was off of the coast and had planned to come ashore and pillage the town that very day, but the severity of the storms forced them to change their plans and they never returned to that cove. And because the children’s prayers were not answered, they were able to live happily ever after.
You notice I never said it was a good children’s sermon.
As the story was told, its moral is that when we pray, we should not pray for specific things because God knows what is best. We should just pray God’s will be done and go on with the kingdom way.
I bring this up because the lesson of this children’s sermon, “while sometimes we tell God what to do—God knows what is better,” does pertain to our reading from Luke.
Jesus comes to a village where a woman named Martha opens her home to Jesus, and presumably his apostles since they traveled together. That’s right; suddenly there are thirteen fresh faces for dinner. Old TV shows and first marriages are filled with horror stories of inviting the boss home for dinner. This horror really must have been amplified when you invite the Lord and his twelve apostles home. Especially if it’s just you and your sister doing the cooking, cleaning, serving, and so on, and so on.
Martha was driven to distraction by all of the tasks required to prepare such a large dinner. Imagine the bread to be baked, the meat to be prepared—from slaughter to serving at that. Is there enough wine and cheese and fruit for such a large group of men, men who are hungry from their long travels.
So where’s her sister Mary? She is sitting at the feet of the Lord, listening, entranced by the word and wisdom that flows from his lips like the sweetest clover honey.
This is when Martha snaps “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” She’s asking the honored guest if he cares whether or not Mary leaves her in a lurch, shirking her responsibilities as a hostess. Never mind the scandal that any woman would be sitting at the feet of a man, much less her sister, the co-hostess. Mary has taken the place of a man and a disciple instead of taking care of her real duties.
Martha has had it up to here and exclaims, “Lord, tell her then to help me.”
Lord, I pray tell her to help me.
Lord, I pray you make the weather right for our picnic.
Is this so different from how we pray?
Lord, we pray for rain in drought stricken places.
Lord, we pray for dryness in the floods.
Lord we pray for good crops.
Lord we pray for high prices to sell the crops.
Lord we pray for reasonable prices to feed the children.
Lord we pray for the Razorbacks.
Lord, we pray for health.
Lord, we pray for long life.
Lord, we pray for wealth.
Lord we pray so—and—so gets what’s coming to him.
Lord, we pray for comfort.
Like in the children’s sermon, often when we pray, we’re telling God what to do and how to do it. But in this case it’s a little different. Martha is upset and in a fit she asks the Lord if he cares and then tells God what to do, in his native tongue. Now that takes chutzpah. I imagine Martha is fit to be tied, with steam coming out of her ears and a rising tide of red to her face as rage boils within her. She and her family’s hospitality are on the line, there are many tasks to be done, while Mary is basking in the glow of their guest instead of doing what she’s supposed to be doing. “Lord, Tell my lousy, lazy sister to get up off of her tail and come and help me.”
The Lord hears and sees what is going on and he tells her, “Martha, Martha,” yes, Jesus doubles this up for emphasis, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part which will not be taken away from her.” Jesus isn’t especially saying, “don’t worry, by happy,” but he is telling her to lighten up, for just a moment. He is not telling her that what she is doing is bad, or unimportant, or wrong but he is saying that what Mary is doing is better and it will never be taken from her. And he does this with the most gentle of reproaches, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.”
In chemistry there’s a term, entropy. One way to explain entropy is to say that “nature leans toward disorder.”[2] My high school chemistry teacher described entropy with this illustration: If you take a jigsaw puzzle, one that has been put together, and sweep it off the table, it’s going to fall apart. Disorder. Likewise, if you take a puzzle box, and shake it up, when you open it you won’t get a picture of a bunny in the snow. Again, disorder.
Nature leans toward disorder. It is said that the vast majority of household dust is little pieces of skin cells that slough off of the inhabitants, both human and animal.[3] Disorder. The other major component is environmental, coming from soil and pollution. More disorder. When you look at a compost heap, you will see how grass clippings, leaves, and other organic things can break down and reform into something wonderful that supports life. Without this disorder, fertilizer for gardens and flower beds would have to come from more unnatural sources. Life springing from disorder.
Martha is cleaning and preparing and putting things in order for the Lord and his companions. There is so much to do that she is flustered. She is so flustered that she becomes frustrated that her sister is just sitting there. But Martha’s preparations will inevitably pass. The house will get dirty again. Martha’s work, as wonderful and glorious as it is in the kingdom of God, will pass. It will fade. It will have to be done again, and again, and again. The entropy of life will overtake the preparations for the meal. In this way, her work will be lost in the sands of time.
Mary on the other hand rests at the feet of the Lord. There she hears his teachings and gains wisdom, she rests in the love of the outstretched arms of the everlasting God, and these things will never be taken from her.
When we pray for picnics and rain and sun and crops and wealth and health and long life and comfort we pray for good things. But these things pass. These pass as dust passes on to more dust. We pray for things that will leave us, if for no other reason than by the ravages of time.
Mary on the other hand has chosen a better way, the way of discipleship, the way of the Word and the presence of God, the way of wisdom, the way of discernment. Mary learns these lessons at the feet of the anointed one, Jesus the Christ. Martha is worked up about the trappings of the world, while Mary is enthralled by the word of the Lord.
The consequences of the dishonor of her actions in polite society be cast aside, Mary seeks something that is broader and deeper than dinner; she is fed by the Lord.
The reason I mention this, while Martha is telling Jesus what to do, Mary rests in his presence, Mary is listening. She is finding out from Jesus what he wants us to do.
Four weeks ago, we heard the story of Jesus crossing the Sea of Galilee to the Gentile side where he met the Gerasene Demoniac. At the end of this story, the man, no longer demon infested, asked to follow Jesus, but Jesus told him to go home and declare how much God has done for him.[4]
The following week, we read of three would-be followers of our Lord. The first says he will follow, but Jesus warns if he does he will have no place to rest his head.[5] The next is beckoned by Jesus to follow, but first this man wishes to bury his father. He is told that the dead should bury the dead.[6] The last says he will follow Jesus, but first he wants to bid his family farewell. Jesus tells him to look forward, not back.[7] Scripture does not tell us whether any of these three joined the Lord or not, but in Vegas, I would have bet against them.
Two weeks ago was the tale of the sending of the seventy. They went ahead of Jesus to where he will visit and laid the ground work for the kingdom by words and signs. Then they returned to report the joy and the glory. There Jesus reminds them “do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”[8] They did as the Lord asked, and then were given the good news of where their joy and their salvation lie.
Last week was the story of Jesus and the lawyer. When the lawyer tells Jesus that the good neighbor is one who shows mercy he is told to “Go and do likewise.”[9] As for whether he does or not we will never know.
Over these past five weeks we have been shown different models of discipleship, different ways of confessing the faith and showing present witness to God’s grace in Jesus Christ. Some are examples of great encouragement, like the former Gerasene Demoniac and the Seventy. Others leave us to wonder, like the three men or the lawyer. In Martha and Mary we are shown two examples of good disciples, but one whose discipleship is better than the other’s.
But here’s the trick, here’s the sticky wicket. Martha was behaving like a real “Type A” personality. She is the kind of person who wants to get things done, and in this case do them for the Lord. But she hadn’t paused to find out if what she was doing was what the Lord wanted her to do.
We may think we know what is best for us, but only in sitting at the feet of Jesus will we ever be able to learn what is truly important.
Lord we pray for wisdom.
Lord we pray for discernment.
Lord we pray for your gifts.
Lord, we pray for peace.
Lord, we pray for mercy.
Lord, we pray for grace.
Through these things we learn what God wants from us.
So, how should we pray?
That will have to wait until next week…
[1] Dr. Steve Wilson, may he rest in peace.
[2] I learned this in high school chemistry nearly thirty years ago. Dang that makes me feel older.
[3] Dust, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dust, accessed July 21, 2007.
[4] Luke 8:39
[5] Luke 9:57-58
[6] Luke 9:59-60
[7] Luke 9:61-62
[8] Luke 10:1-27
[9] Luke 10:37
Amos 8:1-12
Psalm 52
Colossians 1:15-28
Luke 10:38-42
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
Years ago, at the Mount Comfort Presbyterian Church, an elder[1] was filling the pulpit for the regular pastor when he was on vacation. This was the children’s sermon:
He told a story of a group of children who lived by the sea in times long ago. They were finishing school for the year and if the weather was good, they were promised by their teacher that they would go to the beach at the cove for a picnic. All of the children had hoped and prayed for good weather so that they might have their picnic, but the weather that day was most foul; the rain fell in sheets, lightning lit up the cloud darkened skies, and thunder rumbled across the county. It was hardly a day for a picnic. All of the children were disappointed. Several threw tantrums that God and teacher were not able to give them their picnic.
But unbeknownst to anyone…a ship of pirates was off of the coast and had planned to come ashore and pillage the town that very day, but the severity of the storms forced them to change their plans and they never returned to that cove. And because the children’s prayers were not answered, they were able to live happily ever after.
You notice I never said it was a good children’s sermon.
As the story was told, its moral is that when we pray, we should not pray for specific things because God knows what is best. We should just pray God’s will be done and go on with the kingdom way.
I bring this up because the lesson of this children’s sermon, “while sometimes we tell God what to do—God knows what is better,” does pertain to our reading from Luke.
Jesus comes to a village where a woman named Martha opens her home to Jesus, and presumably his apostles since they traveled together. That’s right; suddenly there are thirteen fresh faces for dinner. Old TV shows and first marriages are filled with horror stories of inviting the boss home for dinner. This horror really must have been amplified when you invite the Lord and his twelve apostles home. Especially if it’s just you and your sister doing the cooking, cleaning, serving, and so on, and so on.
Martha was driven to distraction by all of the tasks required to prepare such a large dinner. Imagine the bread to be baked, the meat to be prepared—from slaughter to serving at that. Is there enough wine and cheese and fruit for such a large group of men, men who are hungry from their long travels.
So where’s her sister Mary? She is sitting at the feet of the Lord, listening, entranced by the word and wisdom that flows from his lips like the sweetest clover honey.
This is when Martha snaps “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” She’s asking the honored guest if he cares whether or not Mary leaves her in a lurch, shirking her responsibilities as a hostess. Never mind the scandal that any woman would be sitting at the feet of a man, much less her sister, the co-hostess. Mary has taken the place of a man and a disciple instead of taking care of her real duties.
Martha has had it up to here and exclaims, “Lord, tell her then to help me.”
Lord, I pray tell her to help me.
Lord, I pray you make the weather right for our picnic.
Is this so different from how we pray?
Lord, we pray for rain in drought stricken places.
Lord, we pray for dryness in the floods.
Lord we pray for good crops.
Lord we pray for high prices to sell the crops.
Lord we pray for reasonable prices to feed the children.
Lord we pray for the Razorbacks.
Lord, we pray for health.
Lord, we pray for long life.
Lord, we pray for wealth.
Lord we pray so—and—so gets what’s coming to him.
Lord, we pray for comfort.
Like in the children’s sermon, often when we pray, we’re telling God what to do and how to do it. But in this case it’s a little different. Martha is upset and in a fit she asks the Lord if he cares and then tells God what to do, in his native tongue. Now that takes chutzpah. I imagine Martha is fit to be tied, with steam coming out of her ears and a rising tide of red to her face as rage boils within her. She and her family’s hospitality are on the line, there are many tasks to be done, while Mary is basking in the glow of their guest instead of doing what she’s supposed to be doing. “Lord, Tell my lousy, lazy sister to get up off of her tail and come and help me.”
The Lord hears and sees what is going on and he tells her, “Martha, Martha,” yes, Jesus doubles this up for emphasis, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part which will not be taken away from her.” Jesus isn’t especially saying, “don’t worry, by happy,” but he is telling her to lighten up, for just a moment. He is not telling her that what she is doing is bad, or unimportant, or wrong but he is saying that what Mary is doing is better and it will never be taken from her. And he does this with the most gentle of reproaches, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.”
In chemistry there’s a term, entropy. One way to explain entropy is to say that “nature leans toward disorder.”[2] My high school chemistry teacher described entropy with this illustration: If you take a jigsaw puzzle, one that has been put together, and sweep it off the table, it’s going to fall apart. Disorder. Likewise, if you take a puzzle box, and shake it up, when you open it you won’t get a picture of a bunny in the snow. Again, disorder.
Nature leans toward disorder. It is said that the vast majority of household dust is little pieces of skin cells that slough off of the inhabitants, both human and animal.[3] Disorder. The other major component is environmental, coming from soil and pollution. More disorder. When you look at a compost heap, you will see how grass clippings, leaves, and other organic things can break down and reform into something wonderful that supports life. Without this disorder, fertilizer for gardens and flower beds would have to come from more unnatural sources. Life springing from disorder.
Martha is cleaning and preparing and putting things in order for the Lord and his companions. There is so much to do that she is flustered. She is so flustered that she becomes frustrated that her sister is just sitting there. But Martha’s preparations will inevitably pass. The house will get dirty again. Martha’s work, as wonderful and glorious as it is in the kingdom of God, will pass. It will fade. It will have to be done again, and again, and again. The entropy of life will overtake the preparations for the meal. In this way, her work will be lost in the sands of time.
Mary on the other hand rests at the feet of the Lord. There she hears his teachings and gains wisdom, she rests in the love of the outstretched arms of the everlasting God, and these things will never be taken from her.
When we pray for picnics and rain and sun and crops and wealth and health and long life and comfort we pray for good things. But these things pass. These pass as dust passes on to more dust. We pray for things that will leave us, if for no other reason than by the ravages of time.
Mary on the other hand has chosen a better way, the way of discipleship, the way of the Word and the presence of God, the way of wisdom, the way of discernment. Mary learns these lessons at the feet of the anointed one, Jesus the Christ. Martha is worked up about the trappings of the world, while Mary is enthralled by the word of the Lord.
The consequences of the dishonor of her actions in polite society be cast aside, Mary seeks something that is broader and deeper than dinner; she is fed by the Lord.
The reason I mention this, while Martha is telling Jesus what to do, Mary rests in his presence, Mary is listening. She is finding out from Jesus what he wants us to do.
Four weeks ago, we heard the story of Jesus crossing the Sea of Galilee to the Gentile side where he met the Gerasene Demoniac. At the end of this story, the man, no longer demon infested, asked to follow Jesus, but Jesus told him to go home and declare how much God has done for him.[4]
The following week, we read of three would-be followers of our Lord. The first says he will follow, but Jesus warns if he does he will have no place to rest his head.[5] The next is beckoned by Jesus to follow, but first this man wishes to bury his father. He is told that the dead should bury the dead.[6] The last says he will follow Jesus, but first he wants to bid his family farewell. Jesus tells him to look forward, not back.[7] Scripture does not tell us whether any of these three joined the Lord or not, but in Vegas, I would have bet against them.
Two weeks ago was the tale of the sending of the seventy. They went ahead of Jesus to where he will visit and laid the ground work for the kingdom by words and signs. Then they returned to report the joy and the glory. There Jesus reminds them “do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”[8] They did as the Lord asked, and then were given the good news of where their joy and their salvation lie.
Last week was the story of Jesus and the lawyer. When the lawyer tells Jesus that the good neighbor is one who shows mercy he is told to “Go and do likewise.”[9] As for whether he does or not we will never know.
Over these past five weeks we have been shown different models of discipleship, different ways of confessing the faith and showing present witness to God’s grace in Jesus Christ. Some are examples of great encouragement, like the former Gerasene Demoniac and the Seventy. Others leave us to wonder, like the three men or the lawyer. In Martha and Mary we are shown two examples of good disciples, but one whose discipleship is better than the other’s.
But here’s the trick, here’s the sticky wicket. Martha was behaving like a real “Type A” personality. She is the kind of person who wants to get things done, and in this case do them for the Lord. But she hadn’t paused to find out if what she was doing was what the Lord wanted her to do.
We may think we know what is best for us, but only in sitting at the feet of Jesus will we ever be able to learn what is truly important.
Lord we pray for wisdom.
Lord we pray for discernment.
Lord we pray for your gifts.
Lord, we pray for peace.
Lord, we pray for mercy.
Lord, we pray for grace.
Through these things we learn what God wants from us.
So, how should we pray?
That will have to wait until next week…
[1] Dr. Steve Wilson, may he rest in peace.
[2] I learned this in high school chemistry nearly thirty years ago. Dang that makes me feel older.
[3] Dust, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dust, accessed July 21, 2007.
[4] Luke 8:39
[5] Luke 9:57-58
[6] Luke 9:59-60
[7] Luke 9:61-62
[8] Luke 10:1-27
[9] Luke 10:37
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Here's Your Sign
This sermon was delivered on Transfiguration of the Lord Sunday, February 18, 2007 at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas.
Exodus 34:29-35
Psalm 99
2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Luke 9:28-36
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
The January 2007 issue of Esquire Magazine was its “The Meaning of Life” issue. The cover says the issue includes “wisdom and good advice.”[1] The series of articles that shares this wisdom is called “What I’ve Learned.” The way the interview looked, it was a basic question and answer session, but the way it was written it was impossible to get a feel for the exact questions.
The interview that got my attention was the last name on the cover and what it said about him: “James Watson, who helped discover DNA and still can’t find God.” Hey, I’m a Christian, this gets my attention.
In his interview, Dr. Watson[2] says, “I’ve seen no evidence of a god, so I’m not going to think about one. Being raised nonreligious made you free. You could look at the evidence. Whether being nonreligious or a democrat was more important, I can’t tell you.”[3] Watson finds no evidence of God, but there are those who have seen evidence of God, and on this Transfiguration Sunday we read about their witness.
Transfiguration, what a fancy word. The term comes from the Latin, so it sounds very impressive. It’s really a pretty simple word though when it’s taken apart. “Trans-” is a prefix meaning change. “Figure” refers to the appearance of the individual. So transfiguration means, “A marked change in form or appearance.”[4] But in this case, it means so much more. It means the marked change in appearance is supernatural, a glorified change.[5] This change of appearance isn’t like me shaving my beard, even though that would surely qualify as a marked change. No, this is something more.
The book of Exodus makes it clear that we are unable to look upon the face of the Lord. Moses is said to be in the presence of the Lord, but scripture never tells us they had a face to face. According to today’s reading, Moses leaves the presence of the Lord with the Ten Commandments, the two tablets of the covenant. Upon his return to the camp, the people noticed that there was a change in Moses’ appearance. The skin of his face shone, it shone because he had been talking with God.
So how do the people respond? Scripture tells us they were afraid to come near him. Everyone, even Moses’ brother Aaron was afraid to come near him. Regardless of the reason Moses was calling them to him, they were afraid to come near. Really, can you blame them? Nothing like this had ever happened before; at least scripture had never reported anything like this before. We know why Moses’ face shone, they did not.
The people deserved to be leery of Moses glowing like the dial on my watch.
So Moses called to them, Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation. And they came to him. Moses called them together to share the Good News of the Lord. But imagine the looks on their faces when he was talking. Distracted would describe the look, but I think it would only begin to describe how they looked and felt.
Moses discerned that the change in his appearance was so disturbing to the Israelites that he chose to cover his face while with the assembly. When Moses was with the Lord or when Moses was telling the assembly what the Lord had said, he dropped the veil. Otherwise, this became the only way that Moses could be with the people and appear like a normal man, not the one who had been anointed by the glow of the Lord.
As verse 32 tells us, Moses gave them in commandment all that the Lord had spoken to him on Mount Sinai. But the message almost got lost in the appearance of the messenger. This is the first time this sort of thing was reported in scripture, but it wasn’t the last. Today we are privy to the greatest example of the glow of the Lord, the Transfiguration of Jesus Christ.
This is a miraculous occasion, a time of glory and majesty. This is the perfect time to rest and reflect upon the wonders and grace of life in Jesus Christ. These three men, Jesus’ closest earthly confidants; what are they doing? The New Revised Standard Version says they were fighting off sleep. According to other translations, sleep had won.
But this sight, whether they were fully asleep or not, made them fully awake. Here is their master with Moses, the bearer of the law; and Elijah, the one who would return preceding the Messiah. This is a glorious sight.
Peter responds as only Peter knows how: he wants to do something now! Let’s build dwellings, or shelters or tabernacles or memorials again depending on your translation, one apiece!
Can’t you just see the looks on the faces of John and James? “Huh? What?”[6]
But we can’t really blame Peter; he was so thrilled he had no idea what he was saying. This is Peter’s way. Peter’s response shows again that the message of the transfiguration almost got lost in the appearance of the messenger.
The people of Israel received a sign in the shining face of Moses. Peter, John, and James received a sign when they were allowed to see Jesus transfigured in glory and majesty. And in both cases, with the glow, the listeners received the word of the Lord. Moses shared the word the Lord gave him with the people. Peter, James, and John got one better—they heard the voice of God, words echoed from Jesus’ baptism, “This is my Son, my Chosen,” followed by the command, “listen to him!”
Futurama is a television show produced by the creator of “The Simpson’s.” It’s about a man, Philip J. Frye, who was accidentally frozen in a cryogenic lab at midnight on December 31, 1999 and thawed 1,000 years later. In the episode titled “Godfellas,” Frye’s best friend and roommate, a robot named Bender, is accidentally shot from a space ship’s torpedo tube while it’s traveling at maximum velocity. Since Bender is moving faster than the ship’s top speed, there is no way to catch up and rescue him. Bender floats through space until he passes through an asteroid field and accidentally accumulates a microscopic civilization on his stomach (or what passes for a stomach on a robot), which declares him God, and worships him despite his constant inability to provide for their needs.[7]
After the civilization that lived on Bender destroyed itself, he was distraught. Then he found an eternal omnipotent presence, the cartoon equivalent of the god of the universe. Bender shares his lament with the greater power. He says that no matter what he did, he could not help them. He did something, it didn’t work. He did nothing, and that didn’t work either. Then Bender learned the lesson of quality miracles from the being, “When you’ve done something right, people won’t be sure you’ve done anything at all.”
Dr. Watson, the DNA guy, says that he has seen no evidence of god, so he isn’t willing to even think about God. But I like this idea from Futurama. When a miracle is done right, we may not be sure God did anything at all.
We live in a complex and complicated world, we are a busy people. There is always something to take our minds from a restful place and engage us in something new. It’s not that there is no evidence of God, it’s just that in a society of adrenaline junkies that insists on dramatic experiences, we can easily miss the subtle evidence God provides. This could be by design, like the god in Futurama; the discreet signs now seem so obvious to us that we take them for granted.
Peter, John, and James got a sign, didn’t they? They were witness to a miracle that could have made Dr. Watson acknowledge the presence of God. But as Dr. Watson might point out, it has been a long, long time since a moment like this one, and we aren’t likely to see one like it any time soon. Where’s our sign?
Look around…in our prayers we give thanks for the sun and the rain. We offer thanks for mercies received. We thank God for the world around us and a place to worship. We pray for the sick and infirm, many of whom we don’t know individually and thanks be to God that as the church we do know them. We give thanks for the waters of our baptism and the sacramental meal which nourishes the Body of Christ. We give thanks to God for our daily bread. We give thanks for the small miracles around us every day. And even though they are common and ordinary, they are still miracles. The message gets lost again in the appearance of the messenger. Only this time, the appearance is too ordinary to get our attention.
So what should we do? We should do as the Israelites did. We should listen to the word of God all around us. And the word of God comes in wonderful and mysterious ways. It comes in the first light of the sunrise and the last light of the sunset. It comes in the face of those we love, and those who love us. It comes in words of encouragement, words we hear and words we share. It comes to us in the word of God recorded for us to read. It comes to us in the living word of Jesus Christ. We need to listen to the word of God around us. Be still, and listen for the word of the Lord. The voice from the cloud tells Peter, John, and James “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” Listen to the voice, this is the first step. Listen; resting and reflecting upon the wonders and grace of life in Jesus Christ in the arms of the loving God.
As our Psalm teaches, the Lord is great; he is high over all the peoples. Let us confess his great and awesome name for he is the Holy One. The Sovereign God loves justice and establishes equity; executing justice and righteousness. And as God calls Moses and Aaron and Samuel, God calls each of us. God speaks to us. We have our signs, let us follow them. We must now listen for the word of the Lord and answer in word and in deed.
[1] The cover actually says “wisdom and damn good advice,” but I chose to edit my reading for delicate ears.
[2] Ph.D., Indiana University, Zoology, 1950.
[3] Richardson, John H., “What I’ve Learned, James Watson,” Esquire. January 2007, vol. 147, no. 1.
[4] transfiguration. Dictionary.com. The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2004. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/transfiguration (accessed: February 17, 2007).
[5] Ibid.
[6] Read with puzzled facial expression.
[7] Keeler, Ken, “Godfellas,” Futurama. episode 52, taken from TV.com, http://www.tv.com/futurama/godfellas/episode/125571/summary.html, February 17, 2007.
Exodus 34:29-35
Psalm 99
2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Luke 9:28-36
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
The January 2007 issue of Esquire Magazine was its “The Meaning of Life” issue. The cover says the issue includes “wisdom and good advice.”[1] The series of articles that shares this wisdom is called “What I’ve Learned.” The way the interview looked, it was a basic question and answer session, but the way it was written it was impossible to get a feel for the exact questions.
The interview that got my attention was the last name on the cover and what it said about him: “James Watson, who helped discover DNA and still can’t find God.” Hey, I’m a Christian, this gets my attention.
In his interview, Dr. Watson[2] says, “I’ve seen no evidence of a god, so I’m not going to think about one. Being raised nonreligious made you free. You could look at the evidence. Whether being nonreligious or a democrat was more important, I can’t tell you.”[3] Watson finds no evidence of God, but there are those who have seen evidence of God, and on this Transfiguration Sunday we read about their witness.
Transfiguration, what a fancy word. The term comes from the Latin, so it sounds very impressive. It’s really a pretty simple word though when it’s taken apart. “Trans-” is a prefix meaning change. “Figure” refers to the appearance of the individual. So transfiguration means, “A marked change in form or appearance.”[4] But in this case, it means so much more. It means the marked change in appearance is supernatural, a glorified change.[5] This change of appearance isn’t like me shaving my beard, even though that would surely qualify as a marked change. No, this is something more.
The book of Exodus makes it clear that we are unable to look upon the face of the Lord. Moses is said to be in the presence of the Lord, but scripture never tells us they had a face to face. According to today’s reading, Moses leaves the presence of the Lord with the Ten Commandments, the two tablets of the covenant. Upon his return to the camp, the people noticed that there was a change in Moses’ appearance. The skin of his face shone, it shone because he had been talking with God.
So how do the people respond? Scripture tells us they were afraid to come near him. Everyone, even Moses’ brother Aaron was afraid to come near him. Regardless of the reason Moses was calling them to him, they were afraid to come near. Really, can you blame them? Nothing like this had ever happened before; at least scripture had never reported anything like this before. We know why Moses’ face shone, they did not.
The people deserved to be leery of Moses glowing like the dial on my watch.
So Moses called to them, Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation. And they came to him. Moses called them together to share the Good News of the Lord. But imagine the looks on their faces when he was talking. Distracted would describe the look, but I think it would only begin to describe how they looked and felt.
Moses discerned that the change in his appearance was so disturbing to the Israelites that he chose to cover his face while with the assembly. When Moses was with the Lord or when Moses was telling the assembly what the Lord had said, he dropped the veil. Otherwise, this became the only way that Moses could be with the people and appear like a normal man, not the one who had been anointed by the glow of the Lord.
As verse 32 tells us, Moses gave them in commandment all that the Lord had spoken to him on Mount Sinai. But the message almost got lost in the appearance of the messenger. This is the first time this sort of thing was reported in scripture, but it wasn’t the last. Today we are privy to the greatest example of the glow of the Lord, the Transfiguration of Jesus Christ.
This is a miraculous occasion, a time of glory and majesty. This is the perfect time to rest and reflect upon the wonders and grace of life in Jesus Christ. These three men, Jesus’ closest earthly confidants; what are they doing? The New Revised Standard Version says they were fighting off sleep. According to other translations, sleep had won.
But this sight, whether they were fully asleep or not, made them fully awake. Here is their master with Moses, the bearer of the law; and Elijah, the one who would return preceding the Messiah. This is a glorious sight.
Peter responds as only Peter knows how: he wants to do something now! Let’s build dwellings, or shelters or tabernacles or memorials again depending on your translation, one apiece!
Can’t you just see the looks on the faces of John and James? “Huh? What?”[6]
But we can’t really blame Peter; he was so thrilled he had no idea what he was saying. This is Peter’s way. Peter’s response shows again that the message of the transfiguration almost got lost in the appearance of the messenger.
The people of Israel received a sign in the shining face of Moses. Peter, John, and James received a sign when they were allowed to see Jesus transfigured in glory and majesty. And in both cases, with the glow, the listeners received the word of the Lord. Moses shared the word the Lord gave him with the people. Peter, James, and John got one better—they heard the voice of God, words echoed from Jesus’ baptism, “This is my Son, my Chosen,” followed by the command, “listen to him!”
Futurama is a television show produced by the creator of “The Simpson’s.” It’s about a man, Philip J. Frye, who was accidentally frozen in a cryogenic lab at midnight on December 31, 1999 and thawed 1,000 years later. In the episode titled “Godfellas,” Frye’s best friend and roommate, a robot named Bender, is accidentally shot from a space ship’s torpedo tube while it’s traveling at maximum velocity. Since Bender is moving faster than the ship’s top speed, there is no way to catch up and rescue him. Bender floats through space until he passes through an asteroid field and accidentally accumulates a microscopic civilization on his stomach (or what passes for a stomach on a robot), which declares him God, and worships him despite his constant inability to provide for their needs.[7]
After the civilization that lived on Bender destroyed itself, he was distraught. Then he found an eternal omnipotent presence, the cartoon equivalent of the god of the universe. Bender shares his lament with the greater power. He says that no matter what he did, he could not help them. He did something, it didn’t work. He did nothing, and that didn’t work either. Then Bender learned the lesson of quality miracles from the being, “When you’ve done something right, people won’t be sure you’ve done anything at all.”
Dr. Watson, the DNA guy, says that he has seen no evidence of god, so he isn’t willing to even think about God. But I like this idea from Futurama. When a miracle is done right, we may not be sure God did anything at all.
We live in a complex and complicated world, we are a busy people. There is always something to take our minds from a restful place and engage us in something new. It’s not that there is no evidence of God, it’s just that in a society of adrenaline junkies that insists on dramatic experiences, we can easily miss the subtle evidence God provides. This could be by design, like the god in Futurama; the discreet signs now seem so obvious to us that we take them for granted.
Peter, John, and James got a sign, didn’t they? They were witness to a miracle that could have made Dr. Watson acknowledge the presence of God. But as Dr. Watson might point out, it has been a long, long time since a moment like this one, and we aren’t likely to see one like it any time soon. Where’s our sign?
Look around…in our prayers we give thanks for the sun and the rain. We offer thanks for mercies received. We thank God for the world around us and a place to worship. We pray for the sick and infirm, many of whom we don’t know individually and thanks be to God that as the church we do know them. We give thanks for the waters of our baptism and the sacramental meal which nourishes the Body of Christ. We give thanks to God for our daily bread. We give thanks for the small miracles around us every day. And even though they are common and ordinary, they are still miracles. The message gets lost again in the appearance of the messenger. Only this time, the appearance is too ordinary to get our attention.
So what should we do? We should do as the Israelites did. We should listen to the word of God all around us. And the word of God comes in wonderful and mysterious ways. It comes in the first light of the sunrise and the last light of the sunset. It comes in the face of those we love, and those who love us. It comes in words of encouragement, words we hear and words we share. It comes to us in the word of God recorded for us to read. It comes to us in the living word of Jesus Christ. We need to listen to the word of God around us. Be still, and listen for the word of the Lord. The voice from the cloud tells Peter, John, and James “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” Listen to the voice, this is the first step. Listen; resting and reflecting upon the wonders and grace of life in Jesus Christ in the arms of the loving God.
As our Psalm teaches, the Lord is great; he is high over all the peoples. Let us confess his great and awesome name for he is the Holy One. The Sovereign God loves justice and establishes equity; executing justice and righteousness. And as God calls Moses and Aaron and Samuel, God calls each of us. God speaks to us. We have our signs, let us follow them. We must now listen for the word of the Lord and answer in word and in deed.
[1] The cover actually says “wisdom and damn good advice,” but I chose to edit my reading for delicate ears.
[2] Ph.D., Indiana University, Zoology, 1950.
[3] Richardson, John H., “What I’ve Learned, James Watson,” Esquire. January 2007, vol. 147, no. 1.
[4] transfiguration. Dictionary.com. The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2004. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/transfiguration (accessed: February 17, 2007).
[5] Ibid.
[6] Read with puzzled facial expression.
[7] Keeler, Ken, “Godfellas,” Futurama. episode 52, taken from TV.com, http://www.tv.com/futurama/godfellas/episode/125571/summary.html, February 17, 2007.
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