Psalm 133
The month of June holds many important dates in my life as an American citizen. June 14, 1775 is the birthday of the United States Army. On the same date two years later was our first Flag Day. On June 12, 1898, (Pista Sai Nayon) the Philippines were freed from the Spanish rule only to endure many more years of foreign rule until she received her independence from the United States. On June 6, 1944, the Allied Forces stormed onto the Normandy beaches to free Europe from the Axis powers. Having served my country for 36 years in the United States Army, you can understand why these dates are so meaningful to me.
This coming Saturday is Flag Day. You have heard me lament the fact that I don’t see our nation’s colors displayed prominently in my community even on national holidays. As a matter of fact, I have voiced my concerns over the fact that we overlook flying the United States flag even on holidays here at Immanuel. When I was a student at Polytechnic High School here in Los Angeles, raising and lowering the flag was a daily activity, reserved for the boys in the Knights, an honors service organization. Even when I became a Knight, seniority prevailed.
I have always looked forward to Flag Day so I can experience a special flag raising ceremony in a school yard. But I have not seen this event being observed at my neighborhood schools in recent years. However, I can still relive the experience of bygone years…seeing in my minds eye the little ones standing straight and proud under the flag with their hands over their hearts as they recite the pledge that many of them barely understand.
These recollections have caused me to wonder, for over 50% of these children in my neighborhood aren’t Americans, at least not yet. However, they represent the next generation that will make their mark on the world, either here in the United States or elsewhere.
There was an article in the Los Angeles Times about ten years ago which told of a visit by fifth grade students from the Ivanhoe Street Elementary School to our nation’s capital. This school is a few miles from us here at Immanuel. Each child was required to keep a diary of the day’s events and record his or her reflections of the activities. It was very interesting to read what the various sites, such as the White House, and the several Memorials meant to them. As I was preparing this message, I was wondering what their reflections would be today in light of the events that have taken place in world… 9/11, Afghanistan, Iraq.
What a wonderful opportunity it was for these children to be included in that historical learning process. I hope that their experience will help them to live as good citizens in the coming years.
Have you ever thought of what you might say if asked by these children about our nation’s flag?
I think I would like to tell them that on the first Flag Day, George Washington said, “We take the stars from the heaven, and the red from the Mother Country, separating it by the white stripes, thus showing we are separated from her, and the white stripes shall go down to posterity representing liberty.
I imagine I would tell them about the homemade flag that flew over Fort McHenry on that September 14th in 1814, outlined against the rocket’s red glare; and pointing out that the flag consisted of 15 stars and 15 stripes (2 more than needed).
Would these children be thrilled to hear of Colonel Theodore Roosevelt and his Rough Riders storming San Juan Hill and planting our flag over a century ago? Would these youngsters be proud of the six U.S. Marines raising our flag on Iwo-Jima, during World War II? And what about Sunday, July 20, 1969, at 11:45 p.m., Eastern Time when Colonel Edwin (Buzz) Aldrin, Jr. and civilian Neil A. Armstrong touched down on the moon and subsequently planted our flag there, 240,000 miles from earth?
Our flag has been planted in many places, but perhaps no better place than in our schools, for children to learn their first stumbling lessons in what it means to be an American. With its red for courage, white for liberty, and blue for loyalty, the flag stands for a heritage we’ve been given, and a future we’re making.
The flag is but one symbol of our nation.
For thousands of years, the eagle has been admired for its grandeur, its grace in flight, and its great size and awesome power. The soaring eagle is also a stirring picture of the true meaning of liberty. Assisted by his powerful wings, the eagle glides effortlessly to an altitude of over 2,400 feet and is capable of using his wings to carry other eagles to safety. Turbulent winds only cause him to fly higher and faster.
The eagle’s keen eyesight enables him to be sensitive to approaching danger and to protect himself and family. The eagle displays the sense of responsibility that is a genuine companion of true liberty. He mates for life and returns to the same nest each year, making necessary repairs and additions. He takes an active role in providing for his family and in teaching the young to fly.
In so many ways, the eagle illustrates the life, victory, power and freedom that Jesus Christ came to give those of us who place our faith in Him.
The eagle also pictures many of those character qualities that made America great and that must be reinforced in our generation if we are to preserve for our children and grandchildren the freedom which God has so graciously entrusted to us.
PRAYER: Father, a new generation looks to us to see what it means to be an American. Let our actions show them it is a good and proud thing to be a part of a nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Amen.
June 25, 2008
June 8, 2008 + Infectious Holiness + Elizabeth Gibbs Zehnder
Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26
MP3 File
In this text we get a series of rapid fire vignettes – each one is nice on its own – Jesus calling Matthew the disciple, Jesus healing the woman who has been bleeding for 12 years, and Jesus restoring life to a 12 year old girl. Each encounter is worthy of its own sermon – yet today I want us to look at what they mean as they sit together in the 9th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. Because as we take them as a whole, a theme emerges. Matthew is teaching us about Jesus’ understanding of holiness.
So in this sermon about holiness – I want to start with infection – disease – this will come in very helpful in just a bit,
How do you feel when the person before you in line at the buffet sneezes over the food? Or the person behind you in line coughs so hard that your hair moves and you feel the mist of it on the back of your neck? Or when your co-worker’s eyes are red and weeping puss and she says, oh this pink eye again! Can I borrow your cell phone?
As a society we have some common understandings about how illness is transferred. Germs thriving on a door handle, bacteria suspended in the air from a sneeze. Usually our response to curtail the spread of the disease is quarantine. Our strategy is to isolate the infection to stem the spread. So you miss a day of work or your kid stays home from school. As we order our life together in community, we agree that the inconvenience of the individual is better than the pandemic sweeping through the whole collective.
Over the years different communities have believed different things about what exactly is contagious. In hindsight they might seem so silly, but when its our strategy that we believe to be true we know it on every level of our being.
At one point the night air was thought to be responsible for malaria – so mothers closed the windows at night, and only a few years ago, it was believed that HIV/AIDS could be caught from just being close to some one with the disease, so those who were stricken with it were shunned. Fear of illness and sickness works at more than just the rational level – I remember when my brother-in-law was in his last round battling cancer. He was swollen and his skin had turned yellow, he was coughing for breath and it was all because of the cancer in his body, but I still felt a catch in my stomach about letting my kids draw near to him. Death was hovering so close, it frightened me and I wanted to protect my kids.
Keep this body awareness with you as we enter today’s text.
In Jesus’ day, the prevailing attitude about holiness was that it was in need of constant protection – like the boy in a bubble with out an immune system - holiness was forever using hand sanitizer, opening bathroom doors with her elbows, never eating out in restaurants, keeping her toothbrush six feet from the toilet. There were all kinds of laws and customs that sought to protect personal and corporate holiness. These laws didn’t hover on the edge of life, they saturated every aspect – what people ate, how they prepared food, who they ate with, where they worked what they did, who they were friends with, who they spoke to, bought from, sold to….
So Matthew gives us these three pictures of Jesus in action and together they give us the heart of how Jesus understood holiness - the power and person of God. To the early readers of the Gospel – people who had internalized the myriad of holiness laws, as they read today’s text, its as though Jesus is licking the hand rail on the subway stairs.
In the first story, Jesus is calling Matthew, the tax collector to be a disciple. We know the story so well it can be hard to feel the shock of it – Jesus is not at the Harvard Divinity School Job Fair looking for fresh, spiritual leaders for his movement. No! Jesus is trolling for disciples at the tollbooth?
In the Bible tax collectors are often grouped with sinners and prostitutes and gentiles – not the best of company, certainly not the holiest. The reason was that they were the front line of the Roman occupation – they occupied the place in daily life where people were regularly confronted with the humiliation and burden of the Roman occupation. Already in Israel, there was a temple tax on basically everything. When Rome invaded and occupied Israel, they added another layer of tax on basically everything and then some. The tax collectors worked in sort of a franchise arrangement, where they had to pay Rome the basic taxes they collected, but anything that they could get over and above was theirs to keep. Obviously this created a system rife with corruption and extortion. So as the average working person came up to the toll booth and had to surrender another 10% of the value of the goods they were bringing to market, they had a fair amount of bitterness and suspicion that they were getting robbed, sort of like how we’re feeling these days at the gas pump. A tax collector was considered unclean because they represented the political power that was recklessly disregarding the Temple, the law, and in fact God.
So Jesus befriends this Tax collector, calls him to be a disciple, and again, take note, Jesus is NOT taking Matthew as a diamond in the rough, he is not saying, oh Matthew, you’ve got so much spiritual potential, let me take you away from this terrible life and get you cleaned up and holy-ed up. This is not Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, putting it all behind her. Jesus and the other disciples actually go to Matthew’s house and attend a dinner party – eating and drinking with all of Mathew’s tax collector, sinner friends, laughing at their irreverent jokes. They get to see Matthew close up – noting his quirky taste for expensive Merlot and his extensive collection of Bionic Man posters, his love for life and his generous heart. Jesus is embracing the whole of who Matthew is…
The next two pictures Matthew gives us are interwoven. The leader of the local synagogue comes to Jesus and tells him that his daughter has just died, and asks Jesus to bring her back to life.
That’s a big ask! – not only in the bring back from death respect, but in Jewish law, to touch the dead was a HUGE breach of the purity code. Holy people didn’t rub shoulders with the dead and dying. By touching a dead person, Jesus would be putting his own cleanliness, his own holiness at risk.
So the leader of the synagogue comes to Jesus and asks him to go lay hands on his daughter it’s a very bold request. And Jesus doesn’t dodge it – let’s go! He says. Its pretty shocking that he said yes and a group of people went along to see what would happen.
In the middle of the crowd, a hemorrhaging woman worked her way up to Jesus and touched the tassel of his cloak. Again, a HUGE breach of the purity code. Women who were bleeding – menstruating or hemorrhaging, were not supposed to circulate socially. Her move to get close to Jesus was also very bold. And again Jesus doesn’t dodge her - he stops right there in the street (he could have just chalked it up to someone stealing a healing from him) – who touched me? And then Go my daughter! Your faith has made you well.
Have you seen the man with the oozing wound in his leg, and he’s sitting by the side of the off ramp at Crenshaw? He’s older, clearly in need of medical care – so we give him some change and then go when the light turns green. Or we write a check to help AIDS orphans in Africa or we cast a vote for immigrant rights. All good things, all good, AND that is not what Jesus is doing here – he is not saying you are healed now go back to where ever it was you said that you came from and let me get on with my holy man agenda – he is saying My Daughter – he sees her as a beloved child of God, not an outcast.
Here is the big reveal that Matthew has for us – Jesus’ understanding of holiness runs counter to the prevailing attitude. For Jesus it’s not the sin that is contagious, its holiness that is contagious. He understood that holiness possesses a transforming power over uncleanliness.
When he is answering the Pharisee’s critique for his affiliation with Matthew, Jesus quotes the prophet Hosea as he describes what God is after “I want mercy not sacrifice”. This is a bit cryptic to our ears
On one hand we have sacrifice - Sacrifice was the means of restoring relationship under the purity laws. Once holiness had been threatened, sacrifice was what was done to remedy the situation – like antibiotics getting pumped in by an IV.
Sacrifice was the prescribed way of maintaining holiness and purity. A system of tithes and offerings that prescribed how to right a wrong and restore the purity. Like every system, it could become an end in and of it self and could be hijacked to perpetuate the very wrongs it was supposed to condemn.
Mercy, “hesed” on the other hand, which is also translated, compassion, comes from the Hebrew root for womb – The mercy and compassion, the love that I have for the one in my womb. Mercy is what God desires.
Because God is compassionate, forgiving, accepting, nourishing of both the righteous and the sinner – the rain falls and the sun shines on everyone, because God accepted them, God’s people were supposed to go and do likewise.
Jesus understood that holiness and purity were infectious, contagious and transformative - this freed him up to include those people who had been excluded and quarantined under the purity laws.
So he goes to the home of the dead child and touches her and restores her to life. And the bleeding woman touches him and is healed and ends 12 years of isolation and he takes the disciples over to Matthew the tax collector’s house and they get to meet his tax collector friends.
So you’re thinking the take away from this morning’s sermon is – let bleeding women touch you, its ok to touch dead people, and have a tax collector over for dinner. Pretty manageable and pretty irrelevant, I don’t know any tax collectors, and honestly, I don’t have any strong feelings one way or the other about them.
As we seek to live into this passage, the edge comes when we start to dig around to find out who our modern day our tax collectors are. Who are the people that we as a society marginalize for the good of all concerned? I imagine that there might be some general categories of people that would be hard to bring into our community – people who kill, people to harm others. Ed was telling me that smokers get a fair amount of hazing across the board…The edge comes into stark focus when we factor in our individual experiences.
– So a person who has been falsely charged, arrested, and thrown in jail reaching out to a police officer?
– Or a person who grew up with a father who abused alcohol and sent the family into financial crisis reaching out to a drunk who was doing the same to their family?
How to we embrace those people who represent the things and people who have wounded us the most?? How do we extend “hesed”/ compassion?
At one level it is beyond complicated how we work through our own wounds to reach out to others – it takes all the wisdom and strength God can give us.
At another level – it is the most straightforward thing. We know we need to do it, so we start by doing what we can – we put a coin in the man’s cup, we hold our tongue instead of lashing out with venomous words, we beg God to change our heart, change the situation, to and then we come back the next day and see what it is that is in our power to do.
Matthew is telling us that Jesus operated as though holiness was contagious and in its embrace what was broken is transformed and made whole. Jesus didn’t huddle inside his holy apartment with the security bars on the windows and six deadbolts on the door. He opened it all up – with reckless, divine love.
Jesus is saying, I am going to embrace sin when I find it with a bear hug of holiness. I am going to surround it with the transforming power of God’s purity.
So when Jesus walks up to us as we are sitting at the tax collector booth, and he strikes up a conversation with us – we can trust that he isn’t the kind of guy who is going to date with an agenda to change who we are, he’s not going to constantly be nagging and fixated on all the ways that we fall short.
But he comes to us, celebrating who we are – a child of God, and in his genuine embrace what is broken in us becomes healed, what is unclean is made pure, and we become more fully who God created us to be. And we move from our place on the edges to a seat at the table, a place in God’s family.
MP3 File
In this text we get a series of rapid fire vignettes – each one is nice on its own – Jesus calling Matthew the disciple, Jesus healing the woman who has been bleeding for 12 years, and Jesus restoring life to a 12 year old girl. Each encounter is worthy of its own sermon – yet today I want us to look at what they mean as they sit together in the 9th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. Because as we take them as a whole, a theme emerges. Matthew is teaching us about Jesus’ understanding of holiness.
So in this sermon about holiness – I want to start with infection – disease – this will come in very helpful in just a bit,
How do you feel when the person before you in line at the buffet sneezes over the food? Or the person behind you in line coughs so hard that your hair moves and you feel the mist of it on the back of your neck? Or when your co-worker’s eyes are red and weeping puss and she says, oh this pink eye again! Can I borrow your cell phone?
As a society we have some common understandings about how illness is transferred. Germs thriving on a door handle, bacteria suspended in the air from a sneeze. Usually our response to curtail the spread of the disease is quarantine. Our strategy is to isolate the infection to stem the spread. So you miss a day of work or your kid stays home from school. As we order our life together in community, we agree that the inconvenience of the individual is better than the pandemic sweeping through the whole collective.
Over the years different communities have believed different things about what exactly is contagious. In hindsight they might seem so silly, but when its our strategy that we believe to be true we know it on every level of our being.
At one point the night air was thought to be responsible for malaria – so mothers closed the windows at night, and only a few years ago, it was believed that HIV/AIDS could be caught from just being close to some one with the disease, so those who were stricken with it were shunned. Fear of illness and sickness works at more than just the rational level – I remember when my brother-in-law was in his last round battling cancer. He was swollen and his skin had turned yellow, he was coughing for breath and it was all because of the cancer in his body, but I still felt a catch in my stomach about letting my kids draw near to him. Death was hovering so close, it frightened me and I wanted to protect my kids.
Keep this body awareness with you as we enter today’s text.
In Jesus’ day, the prevailing attitude about holiness was that it was in need of constant protection – like the boy in a bubble with out an immune system - holiness was forever using hand sanitizer, opening bathroom doors with her elbows, never eating out in restaurants, keeping her toothbrush six feet from the toilet. There were all kinds of laws and customs that sought to protect personal and corporate holiness. These laws didn’t hover on the edge of life, they saturated every aspect – what people ate, how they prepared food, who they ate with, where they worked what they did, who they were friends with, who they spoke to, bought from, sold to….
So Matthew gives us these three pictures of Jesus in action and together they give us the heart of how Jesus understood holiness - the power and person of God. To the early readers of the Gospel – people who had internalized the myriad of holiness laws, as they read today’s text, its as though Jesus is licking the hand rail on the subway stairs.
In the first story, Jesus is calling Matthew, the tax collector to be a disciple. We know the story so well it can be hard to feel the shock of it – Jesus is not at the Harvard Divinity School Job Fair looking for fresh, spiritual leaders for his movement. No! Jesus is trolling for disciples at the tollbooth?
In the Bible tax collectors are often grouped with sinners and prostitutes and gentiles – not the best of company, certainly not the holiest. The reason was that they were the front line of the Roman occupation – they occupied the place in daily life where people were regularly confronted with the humiliation and burden of the Roman occupation. Already in Israel, there was a temple tax on basically everything. When Rome invaded and occupied Israel, they added another layer of tax on basically everything and then some. The tax collectors worked in sort of a franchise arrangement, where they had to pay Rome the basic taxes they collected, but anything that they could get over and above was theirs to keep. Obviously this created a system rife with corruption and extortion. So as the average working person came up to the toll booth and had to surrender another 10% of the value of the goods they were bringing to market, they had a fair amount of bitterness and suspicion that they were getting robbed, sort of like how we’re feeling these days at the gas pump. A tax collector was considered unclean because they represented the political power that was recklessly disregarding the Temple, the law, and in fact God.
So Jesus befriends this Tax collector, calls him to be a disciple, and again, take note, Jesus is NOT taking Matthew as a diamond in the rough, he is not saying, oh Matthew, you’ve got so much spiritual potential, let me take you away from this terrible life and get you cleaned up and holy-ed up. This is not Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, putting it all behind her. Jesus and the other disciples actually go to Matthew’s house and attend a dinner party – eating and drinking with all of Mathew’s tax collector, sinner friends, laughing at their irreverent jokes. They get to see Matthew close up – noting his quirky taste for expensive Merlot and his extensive collection of Bionic Man posters, his love for life and his generous heart. Jesus is embracing the whole of who Matthew is…
The next two pictures Matthew gives us are interwoven. The leader of the local synagogue comes to Jesus and tells him that his daughter has just died, and asks Jesus to bring her back to life.
That’s a big ask! – not only in the bring back from death respect, but in Jewish law, to touch the dead was a HUGE breach of the purity code. Holy people didn’t rub shoulders with the dead and dying. By touching a dead person, Jesus would be putting his own cleanliness, his own holiness at risk.
So the leader of the synagogue comes to Jesus and asks him to go lay hands on his daughter it’s a very bold request. And Jesus doesn’t dodge it – let’s go! He says. Its pretty shocking that he said yes and a group of people went along to see what would happen.
In the middle of the crowd, a hemorrhaging woman worked her way up to Jesus and touched the tassel of his cloak. Again, a HUGE breach of the purity code. Women who were bleeding – menstruating or hemorrhaging, were not supposed to circulate socially. Her move to get close to Jesus was also very bold. And again Jesus doesn’t dodge her - he stops right there in the street (he could have just chalked it up to someone stealing a healing from him) – who touched me? And then Go my daughter! Your faith has made you well.
Have you seen the man with the oozing wound in his leg, and he’s sitting by the side of the off ramp at Crenshaw? He’s older, clearly in need of medical care – so we give him some change and then go when the light turns green. Or we write a check to help AIDS orphans in Africa or we cast a vote for immigrant rights. All good things, all good, AND that is not what Jesus is doing here – he is not saying you are healed now go back to where ever it was you said that you came from and let me get on with my holy man agenda – he is saying My Daughter – he sees her as a beloved child of God, not an outcast.
Here is the big reveal that Matthew has for us – Jesus’ understanding of holiness runs counter to the prevailing attitude. For Jesus it’s not the sin that is contagious, its holiness that is contagious. He understood that holiness possesses a transforming power over uncleanliness.
When he is answering the Pharisee’s critique for his affiliation with Matthew, Jesus quotes the prophet Hosea as he describes what God is after “I want mercy not sacrifice”. This is a bit cryptic to our ears
On one hand we have sacrifice - Sacrifice was the means of restoring relationship under the purity laws. Once holiness had been threatened, sacrifice was what was done to remedy the situation – like antibiotics getting pumped in by an IV.
Sacrifice was the prescribed way of maintaining holiness and purity. A system of tithes and offerings that prescribed how to right a wrong and restore the purity. Like every system, it could become an end in and of it self and could be hijacked to perpetuate the very wrongs it was supposed to condemn.
Mercy, “hesed” on the other hand, which is also translated, compassion, comes from the Hebrew root for womb – The mercy and compassion, the love that I have for the one in my womb. Mercy is what God desires.
Because God is compassionate, forgiving, accepting, nourishing of both the righteous and the sinner – the rain falls and the sun shines on everyone, because God accepted them, God’s people were supposed to go and do likewise.
Jesus understood that holiness and purity were infectious, contagious and transformative - this freed him up to include those people who had been excluded and quarantined under the purity laws.
So he goes to the home of the dead child and touches her and restores her to life. And the bleeding woman touches him and is healed and ends 12 years of isolation and he takes the disciples over to Matthew the tax collector’s house and they get to meet his tax collector friends.
So you’re thinking the take away from this morning’s sermon is – let bleeding women touch you, its ok to touch dead people, and have a tax collector over for dinner. Pretty manageable and pretty irrelevant, I don’t know any tax collectors, and honestly, I don’t have any strong feelings one way or the other about them.
As we seek to live into this passage, the edge comes when we start to dig around to find out who our modern day our tax collectors are. Who are the people that we as a society marginalize for the good of all concerned? I imagine that there might be some general categories of people that would be hard to bring into our community – people who kill, people to harm others. Ed was telling me that smokers get a fair amount of hazing across the board…The edge comes into stark focus when we factor in our individual experiences.
– So a person who has been falsely charged, arrested, and thrown in jail reaching out to a police officer?
– Or a person who grew up with a father who abused alcohol and sent the family into financial crisis reaching out to a drunk who was doing the same to their family?
How to we embrace those people who represent the things and people who have wounded us the most?? How do we extend “hesed”/ compassion?
At one level it is beyond complicated how we work through our own wounds to reach out to others – it takes all the wisdom and strength God can give us.
At another level – it is the most straightforward thing. We know we need to do it, so we start by doing what we can – we put a coin in the man’s cup, we hold our tongue instead of lashing out with venomous words, we beg God to change our heart, change the situation, to and then we come back the next day and see what it is that is in our power to do.
Matthew is telling us that Jesus operated as though holiness was contagious and in its embrace what was broken is transformed and made whole. Jesus didn’t huddle inside his holy apartment with the security bars on the windows and six deadbolts on the door. He opened it all up – with reckless, divine love.
Jesus is saying, I am going to embrace sin when I find it with a bear hug of holiness. I am going to surround it with the transforming power of God’s purity.
So when Jesus walks up to us as we are sitting at the tax collector booth, and he strikes up a conversation with us – we can trust that he isn’t the kind of guy who is going to date with an agenda to change who we are, he’s not going to constantly be nagging and fixated on all the ways that we fall short.
But he comes to us, celebrating who we are – a child of God, and in his genuine embrace what is broken in us becomes healed, what is unclean is made pure, and we become more fully who God created us to be. And we move from our place on the edges to a seat at the table, a place in God’s family.
June 24, 2008
June 4, 2008 + Your reasonable stewardship + Hayward Fong
1 Timothy 4
“Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophetic utterance when the elders laid their hands upon you” (1 Tim. 4:14).
In the preceding verses, Paul tells Timothy “...set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity” (1 Tim 4:12). “...attend to the public reading of scripture, to preaching, to teaching” (1 Tim. 4:13). You’re probably wondering, “What does Paul’s admonition have to do with me? I’m not a pastor; some of you might say, ‘I’m not even an elder or a deacon.’” However, as Christians, we should be guided by the first part of verse 14, “Do not neglect the gift you have...” James tells us, “Every good endowment and perfect gift comes from God.” So, as stewards we should use them to glorify Him.
Loren Hollander, renowned musician, was found following an evening concert, practicing at the piano. It seemed strange to this person who had just attended the concert, so he asked this great pianist why he was back at the piano practicing. This great master shared his philosophy with the man. Great musicians are not exempt from training and discipline that others must submit to. Gifted people must submit to the same training and discipline or the gift will be wasted and lost. The gift is from God and the one who receives it has a solemn responsibility to discipline and develop it so the potential for sublime achievement can be fully realized.
It has been almost twenty-eight years since I retired from the Los Angeles County Road Department and U.S. Army Reserve, and almost twenty years since my retirement from the City of Gardena. For many years I continued to serve on several engineering committees, where I saw former colleagues on a regular basis. They would often greet me with, “How’s retirement; playing a lot of golf?” My answer was usually, “I haven’t swung a club in years though I still keep a 7-iron in the trunk of my car. Quite honestly, I’m so busy, I haven’t figured out how I found time to work at my job before retirement; although I must confess, I’m not as efficient as I use to be.” Incidentally, the golf club is still in the trunk of my car.
God gives us many gifts and talents, but there is one common gift, though of different lengths, and that is the gift of TIME. From the pen of an anonymous writer: “Birth is the point of initiation of the chain of life. Time determines its length. The value of the chain is determined by accomplishments. Failure to enjoy it is its waste.”
Retirement has brought me a gift that we don’t often think about, the gift of TIME, with endless choices on its use: Time to learn, to explore, to listen; Time to gain a sense of calm, quiet trust, to grow closer to loved ones, and to serve the Lord and His children.
From time to time, I run into retired people who have found life boring because they don’t have anything to do. Several years ago, I attended a luncheon meeting of the Women’s Club of Hollywood. My host asked if I would sit with some visitors from out of town. I was seated next to a retiree and I asked her how she was enjoying retired life. My question opened a “can of worms.” She complained there was nothing to do and then went through a litany of what was wrong with retired life. It was only a few days before that Irene Ells had told Dorothy and me about the joy she derives from reading to the children at the local library. So, I suggested to this lady that she might find reading to children an enjoyable and fulfilling activity. She replied that she has had her fill of volunteer work and wasn’t going to spend her retirement doing the same. I thought to myself, “How sad!
At my stage of life, I’m attending many funeral and memorial services of people I’ve known over the years. Last Saturday as I was planning today’s worship service, I received a telephone call from Betty Shishido, one of my former secretaries at the County Road Department. It was seven years ago that I attended the memorial service for her husband, Harry Shishido. The Lord had called him home most unexpectedly. There were over four hundred people in the church. Harry had retired some time earlier after working forty-two years with the Defense Department, interrupted by service in World War II. I knew Harry had always led a busy life, father of two daughters, with his wife’s mother having been a part of the household for decades and his wife being blind for the preceding ten years. None of this slowed Harry down in his retirement. He made time for his grandchildren, taking them to school, outings together and serving on the PTA as he had done when the girls were growing up. He served as a leader of the V.F.W. from the local post to the national level. He had time for people – his family, his community, his church, his country.
It has been hard for Betty to adjust to the loss of her husband, most especially being blind. However, she has not allowed her visual impairment be an impediment. She learned to use the computer; her old machine has gone to its Valhalla and she now has to learn how to use the new computer. She comes in from Monterey Park to the Braille Institute here on Vermont Ave., attends various classes to increase her independence, volunteers her secretarial abilities, but finds time to learn fun activities. She has learned to swim and play the piano. The swim classes are held at St. Agnes Catholic School down at Adams and Vermont. In return for their hospitality, the Braille people present a monthly music program at which Betty plays piano accompaniment.
My mind turned to various people in history, who did their greatest work in what we term retirement years...Plato learning at 50 and then teaching at 60; Goethe starting his writing of Faust at 60 and continuing until he finished it in his 80's; Gladstone serving as Prime Minister of Great Britain at 82.
Then I thought of people closer here at home...Ruth Beck continuing to serve her Lord until called to be with Him in her 90's; Liz Morgan faithfully carrying out her myriad of volunteer activities on all sixteen cylinders into her 90’s until her eye sight slowed her down ... to name but two.
Accompanying William Baxa’s letter in Immanuel’s stewardship mailing was an article I wrote about my stewardship here for the past sixty plus years. I mentioned some of what Dorothy and I have done with the gifts that God has endowed us over and above the material things. I attempted to point out as stewards, we are entrusted to look after and take care of that which God has entrusted to our care, which is all His Creation. It encompasses all His gifts…time, talents, money, and earthly opportunities. We are formed in God’s image to represent Him on earth so that all the earth, in turn could glorify Him better and better. It is axiomatic, if we don’t use our gifts for His sake, we will lose it. “It is required in stewards that a man be found faithful” (I Corinthians 4:2).
Retirement from work is not retirement from life. It only means more of His gift, TIME; TIME to be His hands and feet in sharing His message of love and salvation.
PRAYER: My Lord and my God: There is so much to be done in Your name. Don’t let me waste one precious moment. Amen.
“Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophetic utterance when the elders laid their hands upon you” (1 Tim. 4:14).
In the preceding verses, Paul tells Timothy “...set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity” (1 Tim 4:12). “...attend to the public reading of scripture, to preaching, to teaching” (1 Tim. 4:13). You’re probably wondering, “What does Paul’s admonition have to do with me? I’m not a pastor; some of you might say, ‘I’m not even an elder or a deacon.’” However, as Christians, we should be guided by the first part of verse 14, “Do not neglect the gift you have...” James tells us, “Every good endowment and perfect gift comes from God.” So, as stewards we should use them to glorify Him.
Loren Hollander, renowned musician, was found following an evening concert, practicing at the piano. It seemed strange to this person who had just attended the concert, so he asked this great pianist why he was back at the piano practicing. This great master shared his philosophy with the man. Great musicians are not exempt from training and discipline that others must submit to. Gifted people must submit to the same training and discipline or the gift will be wasted and lost. The gift is from God and the one who receives it has a solemn responsibility to discipline and develop it so the potential for sublime achievement can be fully realized.
It has been almost twenty-eight years since I retired from the Los Angeles County Road Department and U.S. Army Reserve, and almost twenty years since my retirement from the City of Gardena. For many years I continued to serve on several engineering committees, where I saw former colleagues on a regular basis. They would often greet me with, “How’s retirement; playing a lot of golf?” My answer was usually, “I haven’t swung a club in years though I still keep a 7-iron in the trunk of my car. Quite honestly, I’m so busy, I haven’t figured out how I found time to work at my job before retirement; although I must confess, I’m not as efficient as I use to be.” Incidentally, the golf club is still in the trunk of my car.
God gives us many gifts and talents, but there is one common gift, though of different lengths, and that is the gift of TIME. From the pen of an anonymous writer: “Birth is the point of initiation of the chain of life. Time determines its length. The value of the chain is determined by accomplishments. Failure to enjoy it is its waste.”
Retirement has brought me a gift that we don’t often think about, the gift of TIME, with endless choices on its use: Time to learn, to explore, to listen; Time to gain a sense of calm, quiet trust, to grow closer to loved ones, and to serve the Lord and His children.
From time to time, I run into retired people who have found life boring because they don’t have anything to do. Several years ago, I attended a luncheon meeting of the Women’s Club of Hollywood. My host asked if I would sit with some visitors from out of town. I was seated next to a retiree and I asked her how she was enjoying retired life. My question opened a “can of worms.” She complained there was nothing to do and then went through a litany of what was wrong with retired life. It was only a few days before that Irene Ells had told Dorothy and me about the joy she derives from reading to the children at the local library. So, I suggested to this lady that she might find reading to children an enjoyable and fulfilling activity. She replied that she has had her fill of volunteer work and wasn’t going to spend her retirement doing the same. I thought to myself, “How sad!
At my stage of life, I’m attending many funeral and memorial services of people I’ve known over the years. Last Saturday as I was planning today’s worship service, I received a telephone call from Betty Shishido, one of my former secretaries at the County Road Department. It was seven years ago that I attended the memorial service for her husband, Harry Shishido. The Lord had called him home most unexpectedly. There were over four hundred people in the church. Harry had retired some time earlier after working forty-two years with the Defense Department, interrupted by service in World War II. I knew Harry had always led a busy life, father of two daughters, with his wife’s mother having been a part of the household for decades and his wife being blind for the preceding ten years. None of this slowed Harry down in his retirement. He made time for his grandchildren, taking them to school, outings together and serving on the PTA as he had done when the girls were growing up. He served as a leader of the V.F.W. from the local post to the national level. He had time for people – his family, his community, his church, his country.
It has been hard for Betty to adjust to the loss of her husband, most especially being blind. However, she has not allowed her visual impairment be an impediment. She learned to use the computer; her old machine has gone to its Valhalla and she now has to learn how to use the new computer. She comes in from Monterey Park to the Braille Institute here on Vermont Ave., attends various classes to increase her independence, volunteers her secretarial abilities, but finds time to learn fun activities. She has learned to swim and play the piano. The swim classes are held at St. Agnes Catholic School down at Adams and Vermont. In return for their hospitality, the Braille people present a monthly music program at which Betty plays piano accompaniment.
My mind turned to various people in history, who did their greatest work in what we term retirement years...Plato learning at 50 and then teaching at 60; Goethe starting his writing of Faust at 60 and continuing until he finished it in his 80's; Gladstone serving as Prime Minister of Great Britain at 82.
Then I thought of people closer here at home...Ruth Beck continuing to serve her Lord until called to be with Him in her 90's; Liz Morgan faithfully carrying out her myriad of volunteer activities on all sixteen cylinders into her 90’s until her eye sight slowed her down ... to name but two.
Accompanying William Baxa’s letter in Immanuel’s stewardship mailing was an article I wrote about my stewardship here for the past sixty plus years. I mentioned some of what Dorothy and I have done with the gifts that God has endowed us over and above the material things. I attempted to point out as stewards, we are entrusted to look after and take care of that which God has entrusted to our care, which is all His Creation. It encompasses all His gifts…time, talents, money, and earthly opportunities. We are formed in God’s image to represent Him on earth so that all the earth, in turn could glorify Him better and better. It is axiomatic, if we don’t use our gifts for His sake, we will lose it. “It is required in stewards that a man be found faithful” (I Corinthians 4:2).
Retirement from work is not retirement from life. It only means more of His gift, TIME; TIME to be His hands and feet in sharing His message of love and salvation.
PRAYER: My Lord and my God: There is so much to be done in Your name. Don’t let me waste one precious moment. Amen.
June 1, 2008 + Synchronicity: Words and Deeds + Frank Alton
Matthew 7:21-29
MP3 File
The rabbis tell a story about a rabbi and a soapmaker who went for a walk together. The soapmaker said, “What good is religion? Look at all the trouble and misery of the world after thousands of years of teaching about goodness, truth and peace – after all the prayers, sermons and teachings. If religion is good and true, why should this be?” The rabbi said nothing. They continued walking until he noticed a child playing in the gutter. Then the rabbi said, “Look at that child. You say that soap makes people clean. But see the dirt on that youngster. Of what good is soap? With all the soap in the world, the child is still filthy. I wonder how effective soap is after all.” The soapmaker protested and said, “But Rabbi, soap can’t do any good unless it is used.” “Exactly”, the rabbi replied. “So it is with Judaism, or any other religion. It is ineffective unless it is applied and used.”
In this morning’s Gospel lesson, a rabbi named Jesus concluded an extended sermon with the same thought: the positive impact of his words can only be known by those who act on them. That is the way Jesus lived his life. The real reason for Jesus’ impact – both immediate and lasting – is that there was a seamless connection between his words and his deeds. From the opening scenes in the Gospels through the crucifixion itself, people noticed that Jesus taught with an authority rooted in synchronicity between his words and deeds.
But we often get it wrong right here. When Jesus says “everyone who hears these words of mine” we substitute words for religion, which we understand as a set of rules and principles to live by. Think ten commandments & Sermon on the Mount. Today’s passage is, in fact, the end of the Sermon on the Mount. When we read it we realize it’s much more than principles or a set of rules; it’s certainly not a call to religious piety. It seems like we all want to live by principles even when we can’t pull it off. Yet that’s precisely what Jesus didn’t seek to do. That’s what got him in so much trouble: he questioned everything that makes people feel safe with religion.
In his life and teaching, Jesus lightly, almost cavalierly, cast aside the many legal distinctions the Pharisee labored to maintain. Dietrich Bonhoeffer describes the Pharisee as "...the one to whom only the knowledge of good and evil has come to be of importance in his entire life…Every moment of his life is a moment where he must choose between good and evil.” (Ethics, p.30) Every action, every judgment, no matter how small, is permeated with the choice of good and evil. The Pharisee can confront no one without evaluating that person in terms of good and evil (Ethics, p.31). All judgments are moral judgments. No gesture is immune to moral condemnation.
Jesus refuses to see the world in these terms. He bids his disciples to eat on the Sabbath, even though starvation is hardly in question. He heals a woman on the Sabbath, although after eighteen years of illness she could seemingly wait a few more hours. Jesus exhibits a freedom from the law in everything he does, but that doesn’t mean his behavior is arbitrary. It follows the law of love – loving our neighbors & loving ourselves. That leads to simplicity and clarity.
Unlike the Pharisee, Jesus is unconcerned with the goodness or badness of those he helps, unconcerned with the personal moral worth of those he meets, talks to, dines with, or heals. He is concerned solely and entirely with the well being of another. He exhibits no other concern. He is the paradigm of selfless action toward others - the exact opposite of the Pharisee. The Pharisee tries to be principled rather than compassionate. Jesus is compassionate above all.
Followers of Jesus are supposed to live in the same way. The responsible person is a selfless person, who does God's will by serving the spiritual and material needs of another, since "...what is nearest to God is precisely the need of one's neighbor" (Ethics, p.136). The selfless model of Jesus is the only guide to responsible action. There is no a priori right way to do that. It must be realized in the moment. Jesus is saying that if you've been doing your "Lord, Lord"-ing, and fail to care for an immediate need, you really haven't done a very good job of "Lord, Lord"-ing. Otherwise your eyes and ears would have been tempered or energized to see and hear what needs doing. The rules keep changing, as they did for Jesus, so we need to be willing to keep moving our foundations.
I was reflecting on this as I roller bladed at Venice Beach on Friday. I was watching homes being built and remodeled and some just sitting there. I couldn’t help but think about the message I’d been hearing about global warming. We’ve been told that the oceans will rise a few inches in the coming decades. I realized that at least the first floor of all these homes would be flooded – not a very good investment. That doesn’t mean the owners are foolish. But they will be foolish if they don’t do something different now. The same is true for us in many areas of our lives.
Jesus’ way of seeing religion as a way of responding with compassion at every moment rather than simply acting out of a prescribed list of rules is uncomfortable at best. In the culture I was raised in, I came to read Jesus’ parable about the house built on rock or sand through the lens of the story of the three pigs. For those of you who were not raised on that story, it speaks of three pigs who each built a house to protect it from the big bad wolf. The first two pigs built flimsy houses that were easily destroyed by wind, rain and fire, and both were eaten by the big bad wolf. The third pig built a strong house that couldn’t be easily destroyed, and thus survived. With that background the meaning of Jesus’ parable was clear to me. I must build my life on discipline, hard work and strong materials that will resist attacks from the big bad wolf. I must put myself into positions of strength from which I negotiate my way through life. The firmer the foundation, the less vulnerable I am. I imagine pouring a slab of concrete and then building a fortress on it, equipping it with all the conveniences I want, arming it with ballistic weapons, insulating myself from all those who aren't bright enough to build in the same way.
The problem is this interpretation doesn’t fit very well with the words Jesus has just spoken, which are, presumably, the words we must put into practice if we wish to build our lives on firm foundations. If we go back and read these words we learn that Jesus is suggesting that those who build on rock are poor in spirit, meek, and persecuted for righteousness' sake. We shore up our foundation by turning the other cheek, walking the extra mile, and forgiving as our God forgives. Then we should stop worrying about what we will eat or wear, avoid judging other people, and ask God for those things that we need. This rock we are supposed to build a house on is a pretty strange rock. It sounds more like building a house on a foundation that is purposely designed to bring down the house as soon as the wind picks up or anyone approaches us. I think I like the third pig’s house a lot more than Jesus’. (Andrew Marr THE HOUSE BUILT ON THE STUMBLING ROCK: http://andrewmarr.homestead.com/files/housebuilt.htm)
But then, of course, when I take a second look, I realize that maybe Jesus did have it right. When we forget to show mercy to the poor, we build our house on the sand. When we put the flag above the cross, or equate the flag with the cross, we build our house on the sand. When we pray for the safety of our countrymen and for the destruction of our enemies, we build our house on the sand. When we get complacent about millions who are infected with AIDS or other infectious diseases, we build our house on the sand. When we spend every last dime we have on ourselves, or save it for a rainy day, while neglecting those in need, we build our house on sand. (Tod O.L. Mundo Progressive Blog)
Whether you grew up with the three little pigs or some other story, most of us are not inclined to hear Jesus’ words as clearly as we may at first think. We can hardly imagine a religion that is not based on a set of rules we are supposed to follow at all costs. But no matter how difficult it is, it is critical that we get it right, because the consequences of getting it wrong are tearing the world apart. Two of the direst consequences of perceiving God’s will as a pre-defined set of rules are judgmentalism and fear. We end up judging others and set ourselves up as righteous. We hesitate to do what we think God wants us to do because we’re afraid it will be or will be perceived by others to be sin.
With respect to judgmentalism, scribes in their day and media pundits and spin doctors in our day exercise power closely aligned with invoking the Lord’s name. When televangelists shout, "Come out, in the name of the Lord," and bishops or General Assemblies exorcise the demon of homosexual willfulness in the name of the Lord, and offer praise for mighty works of regeneration in the name of the Lord, are all subject to the shifting sand of the moment and its needs. When we say, write or in any way claim that we are doing the Lord's will, that God is on our side, when combating godless communism or secular humanism is the cry, when radical Islamists are invoked as enemies of the Faith, or the claim is made that our position is just because God wills it -- when in other words we invoke the name of the Lord to counter what we consider to be false deities, we participate in the very behavior Jesus condemned in this verse. (The Sign-off to the Moral Nightly News by Mark Harris Saturday, May 21, 2005)
Jesus’ authority was rooted in the fact that he didn’t invoke the name of the Lord to bolster his teaching. He took responsibility for his own teaching: “You have heard it said… but I say to you…” Nothing: simply the words standing there on their own, just waiting for the executioner to come. Likewise, the object for us is to make God’s will real in the world, in our actions and words, not in our piety. The Reign of God is entered by being God’s Word, by being the voice & action of God’s will; not by invoking the Lord’s name.
The second consequence of seeing God’s will as a pre-defined set of rules is that it makes us afraid to act because we might fall into sin. We’ve all been shaped by our culture; and religion is a part of culture. There have been prohibitions against things whose sinfulness is being questioned today. That makes us nervous. When those things get called into question, it feels like our foundation has been pulled out from under us. We’re tempted to go find it again. But that is exactly the wrong strategy – the one Jesus is rejecting here. Jesus is saying that his word is the foundation, and his word is a living word. I remember teachers joking about Paul’s call to present ourselves as living sacrifices. They said, “The problem with living sacrifices is that they keep crawling off the altar.” We’re afraid that Jesus is going to move the foundation, so we look for a more solid one and call it Jesus. So we cling to a set of dead words – even dead words that Jesus himself once spoke as living words. But they become dead when we don’t allow them to move. Jesus will move the foundation. But he is the foundation, so his promise is true: “I will be with you to the end of the age.”
One of the ways we put words and deeds together is by putting our money where are mouths are. In the same sermon Jesus spoke the proverb, “where your treasure is there your heart will be also.” If our hearts are rooted in the foundation of Jesus’ word of compassion, part of our treasure will be invested where that is practiced. Immanuel is only one of those places, but for those of us who consider this our faith community, it is a significant one.
As we sing I want to invite you to take your pledge card and bring it up to the communion table as an expression of your heart commitment. This is a personal decision with a communal expression.
MP3 File
The rabbis tell a story about a rabbi and a soapmaker who went for a walk together. The soapmaker said, “What good is religion? Look at all the trouble and misery of the world after thousands of years of teaching about goodness, truth and peace – after all the prayers, sermons and teachings. If religion is good and true, why should this be?” The rabbi said nothing. They continued walking until he noticed a child playing in the gutter. Then the rabbi said, “Look at that child. You say that soap makes people clean. But see the dirt on that youngster. Of what good is soap? With all the soap in the world, the child is still filthy. I wonder how effective soap is after all.” The soapmaker protested and said, “But Rabbi, soap can’t do any good unless it is used.” “Exactly”, the rabbi replied. “So it is with Judaism, or any other religion. It is ineffective unless it is applied and used.”
In this morning’s Gospel lesson, a rabbi named Jesus concluded an extended sermon with the same thought: the positive impact of his words can only be known by those who act on them. That is the way Jesus lived his life. The real reason for Jesus’ impact – both immediate and lasting – is that there was a seamless connection between his words and his deeds. From the opening scenes in the Gospels through the crucifixion itself, people noticed that Jesus taught with an authority rooted in synchronicity between his words and deeds.
But we often get it wrong right here. When Jesus says “everyone who hears these words of mine” we substitute words for religion, which we understand as a set of rules and principles to live by. Think ten commandments & Sermon on the Mount. Today’s passage is, in fact, the end of the Sermon on the Mount. When we read it we realize it’s much more than principles or a set of rules; it’s certainly not a call to religious piety. It seems like we all want to live by principles even when we can’t pull it off. Yet that’s precisely what Jesus didn’t seek to do. That’s what got him in so much trouble: he questioned everything that makes people feel safe with religion.
In his life and teaching, Jesus lightly, almost cavalierly, cast aside the many legal distinctions the Pharisee labored to maintain. Dietrich Bonhoeffer describes the Pharisee as "...the one to whom only the knowledge of good and evil has come to be of importance in his entire life…Every moment of his life is a moment where he must choose between good and evil.” (Ethics, p.30) Every action, every judgment, no matter how small, is permeated with the choice of good and evil. The Pharisee can confront no one without evaluating that person in terms of good and evil (Ethics, p.31). All judgments are moral judgments. No gesture is immune to moral condemnation.
Jesus refuses to see the world in these terms. He bids his disciples to eat on the Sabbath, even though starvation is hardly in question. He heals a woman on the Sabbath, although after eighteen years of illness she could seemingly wait a few more hours. Jesus exhibits a freedom from the law in everything he does, but that doesn’t mean his behavior is arbitrary. It follows the law of love – loving our neighbors & loving ourselves. That leads to simplicity and clarity.
Unlike the Pharisee, Jesus is unconcerned with the goodness or badness of those he helps, unconcerned with the personal moral worth of those he meets, talks to, dines with, or heals. He is concerned solely and entirely with the well being of another. He exhibits no other concern. He is the paradigm of selfless action toward others - the exact opposite of the Pharisee. The Pharisee tries to be principled rather than compassionate. Jesus is compassionate above all.
Followers of Jesus are supposed to live in the same way. The responsible person is a selfless person, who does God's will by serving the spiritual and material needs of another, since "...what is nearest to God is precisely the need of one's neighbor" (Ethics, p.136). The selfless model of Jesus is the only guide to responsible action. There is no a priori right way to do that. It must be realized in the moment. Jesus is saying that if you've been doing your "Lord, Lord"-ing, and fail to care for an immediate need, you really haven't done a very good job of "Lord, Lord"-ing. Otherwise your eyes and ears would have been tempered or energized to see and hear what needs doing. The rules keep changing, as they did for Jesus, so we need to be willing to keep moving our foundations.
I was reflecting on this as I roller bladed at Venice Beach on Friday. I was watching homes being built and remodeled and some just sitting there. I couldn’t help but think about the message I’d been hearing about global warming. We’ve been told that the oceans will rise a few inches in the coming decades. I realized that at least the first floor of all these homes would be flooded – not a very good investment. That doesn’t mean the owners are foolish. But they will be foolish if they don’t do something different now. The same is true for us in many areas of our lives.
Jesus’ way of seeing religion as a way of responding with compassion at every moment rather than simply acting out of a prescribed list of rules is uncomfortable at best. In the culture I was raised in, I came to read Jesus’ parable about the house built on rock or sand through the lens of the story of the three pigs. For those of you who were not raised on that story, it speaks of three pigs who each built a house to protect it from the big bad wolf. The first two pigs built flimsy houses that were easily destroyed by wind, rain and fire, and both were eaten by the big bad wolf. The third pig built a strong house that couldn’t be easily destroyed, and thus survived. With that background the meaning of Jesus’ parable was clear to me. I must build my life on discipline, hard work and strong materials that will resist attacks from the big bad wolf. I must put myself into positions of strength from which I negotiate my way through life. The firmer the foundation, the less vulnerable I am. I imagine pouring a slab of concrete and then building a fortress on it, equipping it with all the conveniences I want, arming it with ballistic weapons, insulating myself from all those who aren't bright enough to build in the same way.
The problem is this interpretation doesn’t fit very well with the words Jesus has just spoken, which are, presumably, the words we must put into practice if we wish to build our lives on firm foundations. If we go back and read these words we learn that Jesus is suggesting that those who build on rock are poor in spirit, meek, and persecuted for righteousness' sake. We shore up our foundation by turning the other cheek, walking the extra mile, and forgiving as our God forgives. Then we should stop worrying about what we will eat or wear, avoid judging other people, and ask God for those things that we need. This rock we are supposed to build a house on is a pretty strange rock. It sounds more like building a house on a foundation that is purposely designed to bring down the house as soon as the wind picks up or anyone approaches us. I think I like the third pig’s house a lot more than Jesus’. (Andrew Marr THE HOUSE BUILT ON THE STUMBLING ROCK: http://andrewmarr.homestead.com/files/housebuilt.htm)
But then, of course, when I take a second look, I realize that maybe Jesus did have it right. When we forget to show mercy to the poor, we build our house on the sand. When we put the flag above the cross, or equate the flag with the cross, we build our house on the sand. When we pray for the safety of our countrymen and for the destruction of our enemies, we build our house on the sand. When we get complacent about millions who are infected with AIDS or other infectious diseases, we build our house on the sand. When we spend every last dime we have on ourselves, or save it for a rainy day, while neglecting those in need, we build our house on sand. (Tod O.L. Mundo Progressive Blog)
Whether you grew up with the three little pigs or some other story, most of us are not inclined to hear Jesus’ words as clearly as we may at first think. We can hardly imagine a religion that is not based on a set of rules we are supposed to follow at all costs. But no matter how difficult it is, it is critical that we get it right, because the consequences of getting it wrong are tearing the world apart. Two of the direst consequences of perceiving God’s will as a pre-defined set of rules are judgmentalism and fear. We end up judging others and set ourselves up as righteous. We hesitate to do what we think God wants us to do because we’re afraid it will be or will be perceived by others to be sin.
With respect to judgmentalism, scribes in their day and media pundits and spin doctors in our day exercise power closely aligned with invoking the Lord’s name. When televangelists shout, "Come out, in the name of the Lord," and bishops or General Assemblies exorcise the demon of homosexual willfulness in the name of the Lord, and offer praise for mighty works of regeneration in the name of the Lord, are all subject to the shifting sand of the moment and its needs. When we say, write or in any way claim that we are doing the Lord's will, that God is on our side, when combating godless communism or secular humanism is the cry, when radical Islamists are invoked as enemies of the Faith, or the claim is made that our position is just because God wills it -- when in other words we invoke the name of the Lord to counter what we consider to be false deities, we participate in the very behavior Jesus condemned in this verse. (The Sign-off to the Moral Nightly News by Mark Harris Saturday, May 21, 2005)
Jesus’ authority was rooted in the fact that he didn’t invoke the name of the Lord to bolster his teaching. He took responsibility for his own teaching: “You have heard it said… but I say to you…” Nothing: simply the words standing there on their own, just waiting for the executioner to come. Likewise, the object for us is to make God’s will real in the world, in our actions and words, not in our piety. The Reign of God is entered by being God’s Word, by being the voice & action of God’s will; not by invoking the Lord’s name.
The second consequence of seeing God’s will as a pre-defined set of rules is that it makes us afraid to act because we might fall into sin. We’ve all been shaped by our culture; and religion is a part of culture. There have been prohibitions against things whose sinfulness is being questioned today. That makes us nervous. When those things get called into question, it feels like our foundation has been pulled out from under us. We’re tempted to go find it again. But that is exactly the wrong strategy – the one Jesus is rejecting here. Jesus is saying that his word is the foundation, and his word is a living word. I remember teachers joking about Paul’s call to present ourselves as living sacrifices. They said, “The problem with living sacrifices is that they keep crawling off the altar.” We’re afraid that Jesus is going to move the foundation, so we look for a more solid one and call it Jesus. So we cling to a set of dead words – even dead words that Jesus himself once spoke as living words. But they become dead when we don’t allow them to move. Jesus will move the foundation. But he is the foundation, so his promise is true: “I will be with you to the end of the age.”
One of the ways we put words and deeds together is by putting our money where are mouths are. In the same sermon Jesus spoke the proverb, “where your treasure is there your heart will be also.” If our hearts are rooted in the foundation of Jesus’ word of compassion, part of our treasure will be invested where that is practiced. Immanuel is only one of those places, but for those of us who consider this our faith community, it is a significant one.
As we sing I want to invite you to take your pledge card and bring it up to the communion table as an expression of your heart commitment. This is a personal decision with a communal expression.
June 21, 2008
May 28, 2008 + Road map to peace: Reality or fantasy? + Hayward Fong
Psalm 10; I Cor. 12:4-13
The last Monday in May has been set aside by Congress as Memorial Day; traditionally, it would be observed this coming Friday, on May 30th rather than the last Monday in May. This holiday commemorates U.S. men and women who died in military service for their country. I think the Monday observance has turned what should be a day of spiritual observance into the make-up of another three-day weekend. Many organizations feel that changing the May 30th observance has undermined the very meaning of the day. I note its observance this year was more in keeping as a day of memorializing the sacrifices that have been our nation’s hallmark and made it a more memorable event, most especially as we hear of our men and women dying daily in Iraq and Afganistan. Perhaps it is due to all the national political campaigning going on.
Memorial Day was an outgrowth of the Civil War, a day dedicated to the memory of the dead, both the Blue and the Gray. After World War I, it was expanded to include the memory of all who had served our country in all of its wars. Those who still observe the occasion take the time to remember family and loved ones who have passed on to their eternal home by visiting cemetaries and memorials. A National Moment of Remembrance takes place at 3 p.m. on Memorial Day. Another tradition is to fly the U.S. Flag at half-staff from dawn until noon local time.
In the years since World War II, we have been engaged in the Korean Conflict, the war in Vietnam and numerous conflicts around the world, both covert and overt missions to overthrow governments in power. The terrorist attack of 9/11 directed our nation towards a new type enemy, not one of national identity, but an ideological one. President Bush has led us into a war in Afghanistan and Iraq which he has designed to locate and destroy this new enemy and in so doing bring democratic rule to these countries. Daily media reports indicate that we are a long way from achieving either objective. However noble our mission may be, these and our numerous military involvements elsewhere have brought America’s foreign policy decisions under both internal and international scrutiny.
Everywhere, people are asking, “What can we do about the struggles we face today, most notably that of bringing our service men and women home safely? What can anyone do? Is there anything one individual can do that will make a difference in these troubled times?” These questions are often accompanied with an air of futility. The implication is that one individual is impotent, that he can do little, that he is an insignificant factor in any situation.
But I believe there is hope. A positive, victorious faith is available to anyone and everyone; it is available for you and for me. This is the kind of faith that will help us overcome all circumstances of life that would otherwise defeat us. But it doesn’t come cheaply nor is it easily attained. It calls for us to sink deeply in our Christianity and allow it to seep deeply into our very being.
We are called to humble ourselves. Pray. Trust in God. Turn to Him in our every need. Develop a deep faith in Jesus Christ, a positive faith that will carry us through all times, especially troubled ones.
These doctrines may seem old-fashioned, but the greatest thing anyone can do is to have the experience of standing up to a devastating situation and saying with all his heart, “I can deal with this with the help of Almighty God!”
Micah identified walking humbly with God as one of the big three requirements for God’s people (Micah 6:8). Jesus said, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:29). The root of the word humble is humus (ground). Our words human and humility come from the same root. Humility is the firm foundation upon which our spiritual life is built. Humility is not underestimating our worth or allowing ourselves to be defined by another. Humility is the opposite of this. Henri Nouwen, in his book Bread for the Journey, puts it this way, “It is the grateful recognition that we are precious in God’s eyes and that all we are is pure gift.” Humility, rooted in gratitude, provides the soft heart in which God may form a new creation, ever new, changed from one glory into another glory. A life in Christ is all about God and others, about how I live in relation to God and to others, not some but all others.
Today in our nation this practice of and growth in humility is so countercultural that we sometimes live in confusion and frustration. We take pride in our achievements, our accumulated wealth, things, our power, individually and nationally. And then we find ourselves pushed to the point of breaking the bodies and souls.of others in accomplishing these goals. “Humility begins with our rootness in God – and our recognition that only God and God’s will matter” (What Happened to Humility?, N. Graham Standish).
Archbishop Oscar Romero in his last homily on March 23, 1980 said, “Beautiful is the moment in which we understand that we are no more than an instrument of God; we live only as long as God wants us to live; we can do only as much as God makes us able to do; we are only as intelligent as God would have us be.”
The attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001 brought forth a lot of human emotional responses both here and worldwide ... of loss, grief, anger, fear, confusion, helplessness, vengeance. Proclaiming the need for a ‘war on terror’ our elected leaders found justification to initiate a call to arms in Afghanistan and eventually Iraq. We further justified our actions by invoking Scripture, making assumptions about who God is, who we are and what God wants us to do in the world, proclaiming that since we are a compassionate people, living in a Christian nation, we have God’s blessing to hunt for terrorists and the countries that may be harboring them. Those who disagreed were called unpatriotic, traitors. Pushed by political expediency and emotions, we failed to question the assumptions that were given to justify our military action. “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom” (Proverbs 11:2 NIV).
Our leaders treated themselves as righteous, confidently doing what God wants but in so doing acted like God himself. As a people we cannot turn back the clock of historyand wipe clean our leader’s decisions. Can we, as people of faith, consider the impact of our country’s actions here and abroad and confess our ignorance and naive assumptions that have led us to this international chaos? If so, we can take the small step needed to begin the journey on the road to peace.
Will tomorrow bring an end to our troubled times? Only God knows. But whatever lies ahead, we can count on God’s help. The world can be a wonderful world for all; but this can be accomplished only by the tremendous healing power of God through Jesus Christ working upon people’s souls. Though some of our battles seem lost, I believe America will prevail if only our people will remember, “In God We Trust!” Trusting in God calls us to roll up out sleeves and put our faith into action befitting our name as Christians.
I close with this poem for peace written during World War II by U.S. Navy Wave Gwen Danner Holland. I along with people over the years have found comfort in her words.
The last Monday in May has been set aside by Congress as Memorial Day; traditionally, it would be observed this coming Friday, on May 30th rather than the last Monday in May. This holiday commemorates U.S. men and women who died in military service for their country. I think the Monday observance has turned what should be a day of spiritual observance into the make-up of another three-day weekend. Many organizations feel that changing the May 30th observance has undermined the very meaning of the day. I note its observance this year was more in keeping as a day of memorializing the sacrifices that have been our nation’s hallmark and made it a more memorable event, most especially as we hear of our men and women dying daily in Iraq and Afganistan. Perhaps it is due to all the national political campaigning going on.
Memorial Day was an outgrowth of the Civil War, a day dedicated to the memory of the dead, both the Blue and the Gray. After World War I, it was expanded to include the memory of all who had served our country in all of its wars. Those who still observe the occasion take the time to remember family and loved ones who have passed on to their eternal home by visiting cemetaries and memorials. A National Moment of Remembrance takes place at 3 p.m. on Memorial Day. Another tradition is to fly the U.S. Flag at half-staff from dawn until noon local time.
In the years since World War II, we have been engaged in the Korean Conflict, the war in Vietnam and numerous conflicts around the world, both covert and overt missions to overthrow governments in power. The terrorist attack of 9/11 directed our nation towards a new type enemy, not one of national identity, but an ideological one. President Bush has led us into a war in Afghanistan and Iraq which he has designed to locate and destroy this new enemy and in so doing bring democratic rule to these countries. Daily media reports indicate that we are a long way from achieving either objective. However noble our mission may be, these and our numerous military involvements elsewhere have brought America’s foreign policy decisions under both internal and international scrutiny.
Everywhere, people are asking, “What can we do about the struggles we face today, most notably that of bringing our service men and women home safely? What can anyone do? Is there anything one individual can do that will make a difference in these troubled times?” These questions are often accompanied with an air of futility. The implication is that one individual is impotent, that he can do little, that he is an insignificant factor in any situation.
But I believe there is hope. A positive, victorious faith is available to anyone and everyone; it is available for you and for me. This is the kind of faith that will help us overcome all circumstances of life that would otherwise defeat us. But it doesn’t come cheaply nor is it easily attained. It calls for us to sink deeply in our Christianity and allow it to seep deeply into our very being.
We are called to humble ourselves. Pray. Trust in God. Turn to Him in our every need. Develop a deep faith in Jesus Christ, a positive faith that will carry us through all times, especially troubled ones.
These doctrines may seem old-fashioned, but the greatest thing anyone can do is to have the experience of standing up to a devastating situation and saying with all his heart, “I can deal with this with the help of Almighty God!”
Micah identified walking humbly with God as one of the big three requirements for God’s people (Micah 6:8). Jesus said, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:29). The root of the word humble is humus (ground). Our words human and humility come from the same root. Humility is the firm foundation upon which our spiritual life is built. Humility is not underestimating our worth or allowing ourselves to be defined by another. Humility is the opposite of this. Henri Nouwen, in his book Bread for the Journey, puts it this way, “It is the grateful recognition that we are precious in God’s eyes and that all we are is pure gift.” Humility, rooted in gratitude, provides the soft heart in which God may form a new creation, ever new, changed from one glory into another glory. A life in Christ is all about God and others, about how I live in relation to God and to others, not some but all others.
Today in our nation this practice of and growth in humility is so countercultural that we sometimes live in confusion and frustration. We take pride in our achievements, our accumulated wealth, things, our power, individually and nationally. And then we find ourselves pushed to the point of breaking the bodies and souls.of others in accomplishing these goals. “Humility begins with our rootness in God – and our recognition that only God and God’s will matter” (What Happened to Humility?, N. Graham Standish).
Archbishop Oscar Romero in his last homily on March 23, 1980 said, “Beautiful is the moment in which we understand that we are no more than an instrument of God; we live only as long as God wants us to live; we can do only as much as God makes us able to do; we are only as intelligent as God would have us be.”
The attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001 brought forth a lot of human emotional responses both here and worldwide ... of loss, grief, anger, fear, confusion, helplessness, vengeance. Proclaiming the need for a ‘war on terror’ our elected leaders found justification to initiate a call to arms in Afghanistan and eventually Iraq. We further justified our actions by invoking Scripture, making assumptions about who God is, who we are and what God wants us to do in the world, proclaiming that since we are a compassionate people, living in a Christian nation, we have God’s blessing to hunt for terrorists and the countries that may be harboring them. Those who disagreed were called unpatriotic, traitors. Pushed by political expediency and emotions, we failed to question the assumptions that were given to justify our military action. “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom” (Proverbs 11:2 NIV).
Our leaders treated themselves as righteous, confidently doing what God wants but in so doing acted like God himself. As a people we cannot turn back the clock of historyand wipe clean our leader’s decisions. Can we, as people of faith, consider the impact of our country’s actions here and abroad and confess our ignorance and naive assumptions that have led us to this international chaos? If so, we can take the small step needed to begin the journey on the road to peace.
Will tomorrow bring an end to our troubled times? Only God knows. But whatever lies ahead, we can count on God’s help. The world can be a wonderful world for all; but this can be accomplished only by the tremendous healing power of God through Jesus Christ working upon people’s souls. Though some of our battles seem lost, I believe America will prevail if only our people will remember, “In God We Trust!” Trusting in God calls us to roll up out sleeves and put our faith into action befitting our name as Christians.
I close with this poem for peace written during World War II by U.S. Navy Wave Gwen Danner Holland. I along with people over the years have found comfort in her words.
Prayer in Solitude
I stand and watch the golden sun slip quietly away.
The dusk falls all about me, this is the end of day.
A tiny, rippling little stream, a wooden bridge so small.
The chant of crickets fills the air, the iris stands so tall.
This I choose, an altar Lord, a quiet place to pray.
For those we love so far away,where there’s no night, no day.
Courageous men and women facing battle over there.
They strive for peace, then homeward bound. Thou knowest their despair.
The days and nights since they’ve been gone are long and lonely too.
You have them Lord, so let them know Thine own great love from You.
I pray for their safe keeping. I ask for nothing more,
but that you hear this humble prayer above Your oceans’ roar.
The night is come, I’ll close my prayer for joyful peace again.
But thru this war, I pray Oh God, take care of them. Amen.
- World War II Navy Wave Gwen Danner Holland
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