On the Third Sunday in Advent, the members of Boulevard's Chancel Choir were accompanied by chamber orchestra as they performed Magnificat, by Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741).
Monday, December 12, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - God's Troubled Heart
and his compassion is over all that he has made...
The Lord watches over all who love him,
but all the wicked he will destroy.
from Psalm 145
There is another famous passage, this one in Hosea, that presents the tension very differently. In it God speaks of judgment against Israel for their unfaithfulness and how the Most High will not listen when the people cry out. But then, God seems to have a change of heart. "How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel?.. My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath."
We Westerners have had our understanding of God shaped very much by Greek philosophy, and so the notion of God experiencing some sort of internal crisis is hard to fathom. Yet the Bible has no qualms about speaking of a crisis within God's interior life, a crisis that emerges over what to do about us, God's wayward human creatures.
Still, we like a God without such tensions. And so went tend to resolve them in one direction of the other. Some tend more toward the judgment side with pretty clear standards regarding heaven or hell, while others tend toward the compassion side, with God's mercy trumping judgment.
This morning I was reading in the paper about one of the local "Craigslist Killers." Two people, one a 16 year old, lured people to a rural property with the promise of a job managing a small cattle farm. But when an individual arrived, they killed him. (Three bodies have been found after one victim escaped and tipped off authorities.) This morning's article was about a letter the 16 year old had sent to his father. In it it spoke of his fear over a long prison sentence and how all his family might be dead by the time he got out, perhaps in his early 40s. But then he wrote how he couldn't believe God would let that happen to him.
I had visceral reaction to his remarks. He thinks that God will not allow him the personal trauma of being separated from his family for too long, but apparently he has no remorse for killing and robbing people who were simply looking for a job? And I quickly found myself in caught in that tension between judgment and mercy.
Sometimes I think that our fascination with Christmas is related to this tension, perhaps more precisely, with eliminating it. A baby in a manger doesn't really have much to say about mercy or judgment. A baby is sweet and innocent, evoking wonder and hope. Oohing and Ahhing over the Christ child, we can get lost in the moment and forget about such questions. Not so with the adult Jesus, who speaks of sinners entering the Kingdom and asks forgiveness for those who execute him, yet speaks of people cast into the out darkness where there is "weeping and gnashing of teeth."
Perhaps this is wishful thinking, but I like to credit spiritual maturity for giving me an increased willingness to live with a certain amount of uncertainty when it comes to the heart of God. I'm willing to leave some things hidden within the mystery of God while I do my best to share the God I have encountered in Jesus, a God of unfathomable steadfast love and mercy, but also a God whose holiness is nothing to trifle with.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - "Happy Holidays" and Weightier Matters
Jesus says to them, "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others. You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel! Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. You blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may become clean."
I don't know much about tithing mint, dill, or cummin, but I have a strong suspicion that getting upset if they don't say "Merry Christmas" at Target falls into that category. Worrying about whether or not a mostly secular holiday wears a bit of Christmas window dressing strikes me as the epitome of worrying about the outside of the cup.
Sometimes I think those Puritans who settled in Massachusetts centuries ago had it right. They banned Christmas celebrations altogether. You could be arrested for not working on Christmas Day, unless it happened to fall on the Sabbath that year. I realize that this may have been an overreaction to the drunken celebrations of Christmas the Puritans knew from England, but if we'd followed their lead, we might not have the orgy of consumerism we now call Christmas.
Seems to me that people who are serious about following Jesus might be happy to divorce Christ from that consumer orgy. Leave it to Santa Claus and the shopping malls. Let us get back to the "weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith."
But I suppose that all of us at times prefer to deal with the outside of the cup, to make sure it is shiny and clean without worrying too much about the inside. Jesus accuses the Pharisees of being "full of greed and self-indulgence" on the inside. But isn't that what Christmas, at least the one at the Mall, is all about?
Before we get too distracted by mint, dill, and cummin, or by "Happy Holidays" on the banners at the local department store, maybe we ought to think for a moment about the "weightier matters" Jesus warns us not to neglect.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - What Does God Want from Us?
Contrast that with God's speech from today's psalm.
If I were hungry, I would not tell you,
for the world and all that is in it is mine.
Do I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats?
Israel came to realize that Yahweh did not "need" people in the manner of many, ancient gods. Yahweh was no local deity who depended on the region's inhabitants. God was Lord of all, without need in any conventional sense. And that raises an interesting question. If God does not need anything from us, just what does God want from us?
One thing that becomes clear about God from the Bible is how Yahweh is an expansive God, a God who goes out from godself in love and creative energy. The first of the Creation stories in Genesis depicts a God who simply creates. God is not building something with a utilitarian purpose. Rather this is about beauty and joy and goodness. God says, "Let's create this," and God does. And it is "good," our translation of a much thicker Hebrew word meaning pleasing, excellent, enjoyable to look at, etc.
This God who seems to revel in creating, who is pleased with how it all turns out, nonetheless does not hover over that creation. God allows creation much freedom, but longs for it to be filled with the joy, and love and goodness that is a part of its beginnings. And so when creation goes awry, when the human creature goes awry, what God seems to want most is for things to be set right, for it to all be good once more.
In that sort of goodness, the powerful do not exploit the weak, people are not exploited and oppressed, no one need be poor so others can be rich, and all people recognize their dependence as creatures, beings who are remarkably made with incredible gifts and abilities, but who are still creatures dependent on their Creator for life itself.
This is the sort of world Jesus is talking about when he comes proclaiming God's Kingdom, the rule of God where creation is set right. And that brings me back around to that question of what God wants from us. It seems it is more a matter of what God wants for us. God wants us to be part of true goodness, life that is beautiful, pleasing, excellent, a joy to behold, right, and driven by love. The real question is whether or not we will trust Jesus to show us the way to such goodness.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Blame the Messenger
I once preached a sermon on the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector from Luke 18. That parable contrasts a Pharisee who tries very hard to do all the God expects of him (and seems rather proud of it) with a tax collector who cannot even bring himself to raise his eyes toward heaven. He simply beats his breast and pleads, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" Jesus says it is the tax collector who left the Temple in good stead with God. My sermon simply retold the parable with the characters updated to our time: a good, faithful (and proud) church goer compared with examples of people who might be considered reprobates in our day.
The next day I had a member call me, and he was irate. "Don't you realize that it is good church people who pay their pledges that keep the church going?" He caught me quite off guard, and to be honest, I don't really recall how I responded to him.
In retrospect, and following a couple of similar episodes over 15 years, I've concluded that these people were not really upset with me -- although I doubt they would admit as much. They were upset with what Jesus or Paul or some prophet had said, but directing their anger at me was much less problematic than being angry with Jesus, Paul, or the prophets.
At least I have a biblical text to shield me. The prophet Amos is on his own. Only his call from Yahweh legitimizes his words of judgment against the northern kingdom of Israel and its rulers. And so it is no surprise that those in power blame the messenger. The priest of the Temple orders Amos to leave. He may not speak at Bethel, "for it is the king's sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom."
In a time when many people do not read their Bibles with much regularity, preaching becomes the context in which the Bible is most often heard. And I fear this leads to the message being too tied to that messenger in the pulpit. And since it's only the preacher, we are free to agree or disagree , even to be angry and upset with her or him. But if the only valid message is the one we already agree with, what power does the Word have to transform us and create us into something new?
O God, speak to us. Help us look beyond the messenger, and hear your Word.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Hearing God
This morning, as I was reading the lectionary passages as part of my own devotions, I got the strong sense that I needed to read the Advent devotion for today. I went and got the booklet, and what I read spoke directly to me in a very powerful way, and this got me thinking about how we encounter and hear God.
One of the hazards of having a profession that is intertwined with your faith is a difficulty listening to Scripture without thinking about how you might interpret a passage for teaching, preaching, or even blogging. But how am I to hear God speaking to me if I am always trying to figure out what God is saying to someone else?
One of the spiritual practices I try to engage in is something called examen. At the end of the day I reflect back, and I ask myself where I met God during the day, as well as where I may have missed God. And it is a bit disconcerting to think that being a "professional Christian" can sometimes obscure God for me.
Thank God that the voice of my faith community broke through to me. Turns out that the faith community is essential to me (and not just to pay my salary). I need the voice of others to open me to the presence of God, especially as a Christian who understands God to be incarnate in Jesus, to be "in the flesh" both in Christ and in the living body of Christ, the Church.
Presbyterians are part of a tradition that not only speaks of incarnation, but also of the "priesthood of all believers," the notion that all Christians have direct access to God and so do not need a priest to mediate that presence. But this access also means that each of us are part of the work of mediating God's presence. But as resident religious expert, it can be easy to forget this, and so to miss God in the other. But thankfully, God (with an assist from Amy) broke through my barriers of expertise.
What barriers make it hard for you to hear God? May the Spirit make all of us more open to God's presence in our midst.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Sermon text - The Grass Withers... BUT
Isaiah 40:1-11
The Grass Withers… BUT
James Sledge December 4, 2011 – Advent 2
If you ever come up to my office on a weekday, there’s a good chance you will hear music playing. I have fairly eclectic musical tastes, but you’re more likely to hear some sort of rock, alternative, or indie music coming from the speakers of my computer. But despite my love of such music, I can generally do without rock groups performing Christmas music. There are exceptions, but some of my biggest musical disappointments are when a favorite group puts out a holiday song. That includes covering traditional songs, but is especially the case with original ones.
A notable exception for me is rather different holiday offering from Greg Lake of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. It was released way back in 1975, but it has been covered by many others, including U2 a few years back. Some have said it is an anti-religious song, but Lake claims it was a protest over the commercialization of Christmas. Regardless, the lyrics are hardly the typical cheery, holiday fare.
They said there'll be snow at Christmas. They said there'll be peace on earth.
But instead it just kept on raining; A veil of tears for the virgin's birth.
They sold me a dream of Christmas. They sold me a silent night.
And they told me a fairy story 'till I believed in the Israelite.
They said there'll be snow at Christmas. They said there'll be peace on earth.
But instead it just kept on raining; A veil of tears for the virgin's birth.
They sold me a dream of Christmas. They sold me a silent night.
And they told me a fairy story 'till I believed in the Israelite.
Like I said; not your typical holiday fare. I’ve read that Lake was surprised when the song became something of a hit. He thought people would think it anti-holiday and reject it, but it was a big seller.
I don’t know why it was a hit, but I know why it touched me, why it still touches me. It seems to strip away the manufactured cheer that has become such a big part of the Christmas season. Perhaps it could even be called a rock and roll Advent song.
Our culture’s celebration of Christmas works very hard to create warmth and good feelings, but these are usually quite fleeting. We don’t expect them to last. They will be tossed to the curb with the dried up Christmas trees, boxes, and old wrapping paper. Then we’ll have to wait until next Christmas to get that holiday spirit, that Christmas cheer, once more.But Advent is different. It doesn’t try to hide from the world’s pain or ugliness by covering it in colorful wrapping and holiday glitter or drowning it out in cheerful sounds of the holidays. It takes full stock of how things really are, and with eyes of faith sees God moving in history. Advent anticipates what God is doing to bring something truly new.
That is the word spoken through the voice of the prophet in our reading this morning. Second Isaiah, as scholars generally refer to him, is a different prophet than the voice found in the first 39 chapters of the book we call Isaiah. That earlier Isaiah spoke of God’s coming judgment on Israel, but the words we heard this morning come from 150 years later. Babylon had crushed Judah, destroyed the city of Jerusalem including Solomon’s great Temple, and had carried off much of the population into exile. Second Isaiah speaks to those who live in exile, those who are reminded on a daily basis that their god had not protected them from the Babylonians. The Babylonians and their god Marduk, had triumphed. In the religious thought of the ancient Middle East, Marduk had triumphed over Yahweh, and now the people of Yahweh were subjects of Marduk’s people.
Into this seemingly hopeless situation, the prophet speaks. “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid.” To a people caught up in suffering and hopelessness, the prophet speaks of God coming to comfort, heal, and restore.
Our reading seems to depict the divine council, a heavenly court of some sort. There is a conversation going on that the prophet hears, and at one point he seems to be addressed. A voice says, “Cry out!” But the prophet is not sure such a cry will do much. After all, he knows the suffering and hopelessness of his people. So he says, “What shall I cry?”
Why should the prophet, or the Church for that matter, cry out into the pain and brokenness of the world? What good will it do? After all, people are like grass. They spring up and in a flash, they are gone. The grass withers, the flower fades. What’s the point?
One of the hard lessons I learned when I first became a pastor was that many people like Christmas a lot more than they like Advent. That’s understandable when you consider all the beloved hymns, carols, and traditions connected to Christmas. But during my first Advent as a pastor, the ink barely dry on my ordination certificate, I was too much the purist, wanting to do Advent just right and ignoring those who advised me to tread more lightly. But I learned over the years that there is nothing wrong with a few Christmas carols before Christmas, that is, during Advent.
But still, I worry that our half-hearted attempts at Advent end up diminishing the true joy of Christmas. When we refuse to engage in the reflection and repentance of Advent, viewing it as nothing more than the religious equivalent of Christmas shopping season, the hope and promise of a Messiah gets reduced to pageantry, nostalgia, and seasonal cheer. It becomes an escape from the world’s ugliness, cynicism, and hopelessness. But that is pretty much used up by January, and it’s back to life as usual, to The grass withers, the flower fades.
However, the good news spoken in the Bible, whether it is today’s words of comfort to those in Babylon, or Jesus’ words when he begins his ministry, does not seek to create a brief happy moment, a season of cheeriness that makes everything look better for a bit. The good news from God that is spoken to those in exile, to the poor and the oppressed, to those who have lost their way, calls them to new futures. And so it does not ignore the hopelessness and brokenness but addresses them directly. It insists that God will act to bring change, and it insists that we must change to be a part of it. When Jesus begins his ministry, he says, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent (turn, change), and believe the good news.”
To celebrate the birth of Jesus is to say that God has entered decisively into human history, into people’s daily lives. For God to become human, for Jesus to declare a coming reign of God that so threatened the reign of the Roman empire that they killed him, is to insist that God is at work in Christ shaping human history. And to follow this Jesus is to become part of that coming reign of God, to live by his teachings so that our lives declare that the real flow of history belongs to God. It does not belong to nations or empires or multi-national corporations because Jesus is Lord, Lord of all creation, Lord even over history.
But the grass withers, the flower fades. And the world has too much pain and brokenness, too much cynicism, too much suffering. But if Christ abides in us, we know that the healing touch of God has broken into history. And while it may not happen on our timetable, God is transforming and renewing us and the world.
The grass withers and the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever. And when the Word made flesh lives in our hearts, we can join with the prophet in proclaiming good tidings to a broken and hurting world. See, the Lord God comes with might… He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Do As I Say
Jesus speaks of this in today's gospel. A father tells his two sons to go and work in the vineyard. One says "Yes," but does not go, while the other says, "No," but later does go. Jesus is addressing religious leaders, and he clearly casts them as those who get the words right but fail to do what they should.
It strikes me that pastors are often judged more on our words than on our actions. In many congregations, members "know" the pastor primarily from her or his presence in worship. And traditionally, much of seminary training is focused on getting the words right. Do we know how to carefully study a passage of Scripture, including studying its words in their original Hebrew or Greek? Do we know our theology and doctrines? Can we piece together a compelling sermon?
Without minimizing the importance of any of these, it is entirely possible to talk the talk without walking the walk. I recently read an article about a support group for atheist pastors. These pastors at one point felt a call to ordained ministry, but somewhere along the way they lost their faith. Yet not having other marketable skills, they have remained pastors out of "financial necessity." That they are able to continue serving congregations with no one being the wiser says something about what those congregations expect of their pastors.
I've never felt a pull to become an atheist, but I do know how to encourage people to be more faithful without necessarily listening to that message myself. I know how to call people to trust their lives to God, all the while while acting like the congregation's successes or failures are purely a matter of my leadership and competence.
I feel that I have grown deeper spiritually in recent years, yet I can still neglect the walk. Those moments when things are going poorly, when I have way too much to do, or when I'm unsure what I should do, are often the very moments when I pray less (too busy) and rely on my own insights rather than seeking God's will.
I think that is why I am fond of Advent. (Advent understood as a waiting attentiveness to God's presence rather than a warmup for Christmas.) The waiting, watchful, attentive pose of Advent helps me refocus and become open to the transforming work of the Spirit that shapes me more and more for a life of integrity that matches the words.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Praise the Lord, and Pass the Ammunition
Happy is the nation whose God is the LORD,
the people whom he has chosen as his heritage...
A king is not saved by his great army;
a warrior is not delivered by his great strength.
The war horse is a vain hope for victory,
and by its great might it cannot save.
These words from Psalm 33 are echoed in other biblical passages that insist military might cannot save. And when the prophet Amos speaks against Israel in today's Old Testament reading, it is clear that no amount of military power or might will be able to stave off the forces that will soon surround them. "Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: An adversary shall surround the land, and strip you of your defense; and your strongholds shall be plundered." No amount of human power will thwart God's will.
But the sort of faith that proclaims trust in God while insisting that spectacular military might is necessary to protect us is hardly restricted to one side of the political spectrum. How easy it is to proclaim faith in Jesus, to speak of following the good shepherd, all the while anxiously seeking to secure happiness and fulfillment through the very things Jesus shuns. Jesus says to us, "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or your body, what you will wear... Instead, strive for God's kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well." Yet I can worry with the best of them: about money, about success, about what people think of me, or what could go wrong.
I suppose that I and many other people of faith are not too different from those first disciples of Jesus. We are drawn to him. We recognize something in him that we cannot find anywhere else. But when following Jesus gets difficult, we often scatter, just as those disciples did when Jesus was arrested. In our own ways, we deny him, just as Peter once did.
Of course the colossal failures of those first disciples did not stop Jesus from sending them out in his name after the Resurrection. Those fearful, timid disciples were transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Jesus, in this season of Advent, come to us in the power of the Spirit. Transform and empower us to live as the body of Christ in the world.
Monday, November 28, 2011
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