A seriously crappy morning.
I mean, seriously.
For a couple of weeks now, I've been struggling with the notion of shaving. I'm sure if this topic were discussed any other time of the year, I'd be fine.
But for the last week, I've been waking up every morning with anxiety about shaving. Not just shaving, but about having shaved. I shaved my legs, and that freaked me out. In a serious way.
For the last week, I've been planning a trip and doing homework. Planning a trip to Omaha to celebrate a pretty significant anniversary on the 12th. Doing homework for my internship--Reading James F. White's Introduction to Christian Worship, Chapter 9, The Eucharist.
And while normally, anniversary celebrations are cause for excitement, somehow, the occasion I'm celebrating, coupled with readings about breaking bodies, shedding blood, and celebrating the good works of God, all neatly tied together with a great big ribbon of fear that I'm going to be celebrating alone, was nothing short of anxiety inducing.
I shaved my legs. I shaved my legs at the behest of someone I'm sure loves me and who is afraid that my having hairy legs is going to scare off potential mates. And while I don't much care one way or the other if that's fact or simple fear on her part, this isn't the first time this person has insisted that I change some part of myself to become more acceptable to those with whom I may interact.
I'm sure this is reading really badly to those who bother to pay attention to my blog, and perhaps it is. Maybe it is that bad, because writing it makes it seem really bad. But somehow, in the moment, in the midst of the discussion, it's more just annoying and frustrating, as it becomes clear, yet again, that this person really just doesn't get it.
So, I shaved my legs. I shaved my legs because I just didn't want to hear about it. Thinking that I just might be celebrating this grand occasion on August 12th with this other person, I sat down one evening, and I cut off a part of my body to mollify her. I cut off part of my body to smooth the road. I cut off part of my body because someone else simply wasn't willing to listen when I said, "This is really important to me," when it comes to having the autonomy to do with my body what I choose, for the reasons I choose, regardless of societal expectation.
And I'm pretty sure my friend has no idea what it cost me to shave my legs. And to make matters worse, it turns out my friend won't be celebrating this anniversary with me, as I discovered just a short time ago. So, I cut off a part of my body for nothing. Go. Fukin'. Figure.
So, I asked a family member to celebrate with me instead. So, bright and early Friday, I'm getting in the car and driving to Omaha. I'm going to eat Indian food. I'm going to walk around the town and discover something new. I'm going to explore a place I haven't been. I'm going to celebrate with someone who doesn't often understand me, but who just may understand this need to celebrate something hugely important.
Maybe later in the week, when I'm not in such a crappy mood, I'll let you know what I'm celebrating. Maybe come Friday, I'll actually feel like celebrating. Because it's good to celebrate the good works of God. And God has certainly been good to me.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
All Good Things
In the world of All Good Things today, I feel compelled to share what a fabulous week I had. Most of it for no particular reason other than I seem to be developing a rhythm with my new responsibilities at work and I'm pretty happy person in general.
All of this was made even better when my dogs actually let me go back to sleep after their 4:30 potty trip. This almost NEVER happens. Unfortunately, I was determined to sleep until 7:00. They were determined to use my face as their wrestling mat come 6:30. We compromised. I threw an arm up and they used that.
Then, I went shopping with my most beauteous mama. I've been needed a new pair of shoes for sometime and finally found the time to hit a shoe store. Love my new Adidas.
After that, it was time to pick up a few groceries. Just the basics: mangoes, plain yogurt, apples, eggs.
While I was at the grocery store I saw the only candle I like. Seriously, I'm not a candle girl. I've never gotten into them. Generally, I find them frilly and obnoxious. And what's the point? None of them have a smell strong enough to permeate a room. Which is actually a good thing because none of them smell good enough to want to have their odor permeate a room.
Except one. Febreeze Home Collection: Green Tea Citrus. So, when I saw one, marked down from $14.95 to $9.97, I decided to splurge, even though I had 1/2 of one left at home.
When I got the check out, the candle rang up $1.00.
I paid for my purchases, left my mother with the cart, and headed to the back of the store. Where I picked up 5 more. De-lightful!
All of this was made even better when my dogs actually let me go back to sleep after their 4:30 potty trip. This almost NEVER happens. Unfortunately, I was determined to sleep until 7:00. They were determined to use my face as their wrestling mat come 6:30. We compromised. I threw an arm up and they used that.
Then, I went shopping with my most beauteous mama. I've been needed a new pair of shoes for sometime and finally found the time to hit a shoe store. Love my new Adidas.
After that, it was time to pick up a few groceries. Just the basics: mangoes, plain yogurt, apples, eggs.
While I was at the grocery store I saw the only candle I like. Seriously, I'm not a candle girl. I've never gotten into them. Generally, I find them frilly and obnoxious. And what's the point? None of them have a smell strong enough to permeate a room. Which is actually a good thing because none of them smell good enough to want to have their odor permeate a room.
Except one. Febreeze Home Collection: Green Tea Citrus. So, when I saw one, marked down from $14.95 to $9.97, I decided to splurge, even though I had 1/2 of one left at home.
When I got the check out, the candle rang up $1.00.
I paid for my purchases, left my mother with the cart, and headed to the back of the store. Where I picked up 5 more. De-lightful!
A Post in Which I Confess: I Believe Almost Nothing
Occasionally, I'm asked what I believe about some aspect or other concerning God, Jesus, or faith. And I always have a hard time answering. Not because I'm shy about what I believe. And not because I do not know what I believe--I do. Rather, it's more that my beliefs tend to be very open. I have thoughts and ideas more than beliefs.
Most people I know, who declare that they believe this or that, tend to have very strict ideas about who God is, what God does, and what faith looks like. There tends to be little, if any, room for growth. Hell, there's barely any room to breathe with most of them. Too many people have an attitude of, "I believed this when I was 5; I believe it at 25; I'm going to believe it at 50; and I will die never having challenged my beliefs. And furthermore, I fully intend to vilify and ostracize anyone else who attempts to challenge my beliefs." This always makes me sad and, more often than not, frustrates me.
Most people I know treat their theological beliefs as Ultimate Truths. When my pastor and I discuss theology and I say things like, "I can tell you what I think about this or that, but I'm not sure I believe it," he counters with the notion that as a preacher it is my job to share my beliefs, that I'm called to take a stand, and surely I must, on those issues, acknowledge that I believe something and that I believe my beliefs are right.
I disagree.
There are only two beliefs I hold. Only two theological points I consider to be Ultimate Truths:
1. God exists.
2. Love is the single most powerful and transformative force in the universe.
And there are days when, intellectually, I doubt the first.
Regardless, I generally think these two Truths are linked.
But that's about as far as it goes. There are things I choose to accept as part of the faith tradition to which I subscribe. But these are all things which are open to revision. As a Christian, my experiences to date have led me to think X. But prior to experience P, I had thought W. Thus, I must leave room for the possibility that someday, I will experience Q, which will open my ideas to include Y.
Because my theological ideas and my understandings who God is, who Jesus, what and how God and Jesus operate in our world has shifted radically between the time I was five and thirty and as I fully expect to live at least another thirty years, it would be irresponsible to claim that I know and thus hold as Ultimate Truth X or Y concerning the nature of God, Jesus, and faith.
Thus, when people ask, "What do you believe about...?" I'm left wondering how to answer this question. I've found that if I answer, "Well, today I think..." people tend to find it evasive, wishy-washy, and disconcerting. It leaves them with little confidence in my gifts, skills, and abilities to serve in a position of ministerial authority.
What further complicates this is that few people have a frame of reference for a system of ideas that so open and expansive. "This is what I think today" rather than "This is what I believe" does not communicate to most people, "I realize I am human and I am leaving room for growth." It communicates, "I don't know what I believe and you shouldn't trust anything I say."
Now, in the categories of things I choose to accept as tenets of the faith to which I subscribe are:
1. Jesus is the Son of God.
My experiences have led me to understand that Jesus, as the Son of God, is:
A. Wholly God with all of the power, glory, and honor that comes with such a position; and
B. Wholly human with all the pitfalls, limitations, and challenges that come with such a position.
As a human, Jesus fails us at times. As God, Jesus failing isn't an option. As human, it's inevitable. As a matter of faith, most people I know would be horrified to read that I consider Jesus to have failed because while they believe A and insist they believe B, the reality is they are afraid of what would happen if A were not true, and though they accept B in theory, they reject it as reality.
So, that's just some of my thoughts. I'm sure there'll be more. Someday. When I've decided I actually believe something more.
Most people I know, who declare that they believe this or that, tend to have very strict ideas about who God is, what God does, and what faith looks like. There tends to be little, if any, room for growth. Hell, there's barely any room to breathe with most of them. Too many people have an attitude of, "I believed this when I was 5; I believe it at 25; I'm going to believe it at 50; and I will die never having challenged my beliefs. And furthermore, I fully intend to vilify and ostracize anyone else who attempts to challenge my beliefs." This always makes me sad and, more often than not, frustrates me.
Most people I know treat their theological beliefs as Ultimate Truths. When my pastor and I discuss theology and I say things like, "I can tell you what I think about this or that, but I'm not sure I believe it," he counters with the notion that as a preacher it is my job to share my beliefs, that I'm called to take a stand, and surely I must, on those issues, acknowledge that I believe something and that I believe my beliefs are right.
I disagree.
There are only two beliefs I hold. Only two theological points I consider to be Ultimate Truths:
1. God exists.
2. Love is the single most powerful and transformative force in the universe.
And there are days when, intellectually, I doubt the first.
Regardless, I generally think these two Truths are linked.
But that's about as far as it goes. There are things I choose to accept as part of the faith tradition to which I subscribe. But these are all things which are open to revision. As a Christian, my experiences to date have led me to think X. But prior to experience P, I had thought W. Thus, I must leave room for the possibility that someday, I will experience Q, which will open my ideas to include Y.
Because my theological ideas and my understandings who God is, who Jesus, what and how God and Jesus operate in our world has shifted radically between the time I was five and thirty and as I fully expect to live at least another thirty years, it would be irresponsible to claim that I know and thus hold as Ultimate Truth X or Y concerning the nature of God, Jesus, and faith.
Thus, when people ask, "What do you believe about...?" I'm left wondering how to answer this question. I've found that if I answer, "Well, today I think..." people tend to find it evasive, wishy-washy, and disconcerting. It leaves them with little confidence in my gifts, skills, and abilities to serve in a position of ministerial authority.
What further complicates this is that few people have a frame of reference for a system of ideas that so open and expansive. "This is what I think today" rather than "This is what I believe" does not communicate to most people, "I realize I am human and I am leaving room for growth." It communicates, "I don't know what I believe and you shouldn't trust anything I say."
Now, in the categories of things I choose to accept as tenets of the faith to which I subscribe are:
1. Jesus is the Son of God.
My experiences have led me to understand that Jesus, as the Son of God, is:
A. Wholly God with all of the power, glory, and honor that comes with such a position; and
B. Wholly human with all the pitfalls, limitations, and challenges that come with such a position.
As a human, Jesus fails us at times. As God, Jesus failing isn't an option. As human, it's inevitable. As a matter of faith, most people I know would be horrified to read that I consider Jesus to have failed because while they believe A and insist they believe B, the reality is they are afraid of what would happen if A were not true, and though they accept B in theory, they reject it as reality.
So, that's just some of my thoughts. I'm sure there'll be more. Someday. When I've decided I actually believe something more.
Monday, July 18, 2011
On The Divine Narcissus
I recently had the experience of looking at someone, and feeling as though I was looking into a mirror. It was amazingly cool and really, really scary.
It was wonderful to finally meet someone who so reminds me of myself. I finally knew with absolute proof that someone out there shares my strange quirky nature. Someone who gets my jokes. Someone whose jokes I get, most of the time. Someone who doesn't seem to find me odd, or strange, or a little too .... Someone who shares a fairly specific language. Someone who can keep up with me intellectually and is willing to push a conversation to the next level. Someone who's not afraid to back down from a challenge. Brilliant, clever, a sharp, quick wit.
I was in heaven.
And then, I got scared. Because what if the experience wasn't the same for the other person?
So, I prayed. Because sometimes, "Jesus" is the answer. This is what he said to me:
"I know exactly how you feel. When I look at humanity, created in the divine image, I see myself. And I fall in love with the image of God every single time. And every single time, I know that I face rejection. And that's scary. Most of the time, I am rejected. And it hurts. But you know what? I keep loving them anyway."
I first heard the premise of The Divine Narcissus, by Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz when I was in my first year of seminary. I thought, "This might be the loveliest thing I've ever heard."
Now, I get it.
It was wonderful to finally meet someone who so reminds me of myself. I finally knew with absolute proof that someone out there shares my strange quirky nature. Someone who gets my jokes. Someone whose jokes I get, most of the time. Someone who doesn't seem to find me odd, or strange, or a little too .... Someone who shares a fairly specific language. Someone who can keep up with me intellectually and is willing to push a conversation to the next level. Someone who's not afraid to back down from a challenge. Brilliant, clever, a sharp, quick wit.
I was in heaven.
And then, I got scared. Because what if the experience wasn't the same for the other person?
So, I prayed. Because sometimes, "Jesus" is the answer. This is what he said to me:
"I know exactly how you feel. When I look at humanity, created in the divine image, I see myself. And I fall in love with the image of God every single time. And every single time, I know that I face rejection. And that's scary. Most of the time, I am rejected. And it hurts. But you know what? I keep loving them anyway."
I first heard the premise of The Divine Narcissus, by Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz when I was in my first year of seminary. I thought, "This might be the loveliest thing I've ever heard."
Now, I get it.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Sowing the Word and Kindom of God
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
*****
This morning’s texts seem particularly appropriate to our cultural context. It’s all about farming. We live in a small, rural, farm based community. Many of you are farmers, living on farms, working on farms, raising families on farms. I remember as a child spending most Sunday’s after church at my grandparents’ farm. Summers during my very early childhood including playing in haylofts, being terrorized by feral farm cats, and walking the beans in the morning. The reward was half a bottle of Pepsi and a nap on the couch in the couch in the afternoon.
One might think I would have lots to say about this morning texts. One might think I have all kinds of stories to share about planting seeds and reaping harvests. I wish that were the case. I LOVE the idea of gardening. The idea of sustainable, family based agriculture gets me giddy. I love the idea of growing my own food, of putting up preserves, of having homegrown tomatoes turned into succulent sauces that are available in the dead of winter because of something I did with my own hands.
The truth is, however, I cannot dig in the dirt. I really wish I were kidding. But the reality is, I can’t. Terrified. Utterly, completely, and in all other ways terrified. I get nervous just talking about it to you guys. Now there are two reasons for this response. One—the lesser reason—is that dirt is dirty. It grosses me out. I hate getting it under my fingernails. I hate how, at the end of the day, when the skin on your hands has completely dried out and begun to crack, the dirt works its way into those tiny crevices of skin and it’s impossible to get it out. Let’s be honest—garden gloves don’t keep the dirt out. They just make your hands sweat and turn all that dirt into mud. It’s disgusting.
The second reason, though, the real reason I can’t garden, is because I have a phobia. A genuine, bonafide phobia. A completely irrational fear that interferes with my ability to do things that I might otherwise enjoy. I can’t garden, I can’t even seriously contemplate gardening, because the very idea of seeing a certain animal (which happens to be really, really good for your soil) terrifies the bejeezus out of me. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Some people refer to them as night crawlers. Others use a four-letter word I cannot bring myself to even think, let alone type, or speak aloud.
So, now you know. My secret shame. Having grown up on in a rural, agriculturally based culture, I’m almost totally divorced from the foundation of that culture by virtue of this weird little quirk known as a phobia.
Our lesson from the Gospel of Matthew today talked about four different types of soil:
1. A path—hard ground, beaten to a nearly indestructible solid mass of tightly packed earth; the result of years of being tread upon by foot or hoof
2. Rocky ground—soil that has stones, large or small mixed in
3. Thorny soil—dirt that might be rich and fertile, but which is seemingly unsuitable
4. Good soil—soil which is loose, free from debris, rich and fertile, without weeds or thorny plants to interfere with the growth of more preferable plant life
Each of these soils, Jesus tells his disciples, has characteristics that make it either suitable for, or hostile to the growing process.
The first, the path, doesn’t allow for the seed to mix with the soil, and as such, the seed is easily plucked up by the birds of the air which carry it away and consume it.
The second, the rocky ground, allows for the seeds to sprout. However, because the stones interfere with the plants ability to produce a deep and effective root system, when the sun comes out in the heat of the day, the plants are scorched and die. This is similar to the method of weeding most gardeners I know subscribe to—weed early in the morning and the heat of the noonday sun will kill the weeds, not allowing them to take root again. These gardeners also know that if you weed your garden at night, these same undesirable plants will simply take root again over the course of the cool evening and reinvade the garden.
The third soil type, that which contains thorns, is considered unsuitable because the thorns, having been long established, use all of the nutrients that might otherwise go to the seeds which were planted. Seeds planted among thorns might take root, and their root system may run deep, but the thorns have deeper root systems, and in times of drought will use up all of the water in the soil, and so the other seeds are choked out and die.
The fourth soil type is like an Iowa farm field, tilled and fertilized. The soil has been broken up and is suitable for planting. The stones and boulders have been removed. Herbicides have been applied and all alien plant life has been destroyed. This type of soil is prepped and ready. Anything planted in it will take root, grow, and produce fruit.
Jesus then goes on to explain how these types of soil are really types of people. Those who hear the Word of God but do not understand; those who receive the Word with joy but have no root and so wither; those who hear the Word, but who are concerned with the things of this world, with material wealth and whose faith is thus choked out; those who hear the Word and understand it, and bear much fruit.
What I find interesting about this parable that Jesus tells, and his further instruction on what it means, is that Jesus never condemns the soil. It’s simply there. It’s the nature of the path to be hard; it’s the nature of rocky soil not to permit deep roots; it’s the nature of thorny ground to choke out new life; it’s the nature of healthy, fertile, prepared soil to produce abundant fruit.
Even more importantly, it’s clear to me, from a text we read a few weeks ago, that God is the one who determines the soil type. God, who created the heavens and the earth; God who brought forth light; God who separated the ground from the seas; God who produced every living plant—including those thorns; God who created humankind in God’s own image.
The seed is dropped on various types of soil because the sower sows. And the sower seems to sow indiscriminately. Wherever the sower happens to be, there seed is thrown, with the expectation that something may come to fruition, but without much concern thereafter. The seed is sown, and the sower moves on. The sower doesn’t worry about whether or not the seed was sown properly. The sower doesn’t worry about what might have been if only he or she had tossed the seed with more verve. The sower doesn’t sit down and dissect every aspect of their planting, wondering what they could have done to be more effective sowers.
As Christians, we are called to sow the Word of God. We are called to sow liberally. We are called to share the Word of God with everyone. We are not called to do a chemical analysis of the soil; we are not called to break up paths, to move boulders, to rip out weeds or thorns; we are simply called to sow the word. The rest is God’s concern. God determine the soil type. We plant where we are. God provides the growth.
Now, fortunately for us, writing and preaching a sermon on a text deals with various types of soil did not require that I actually had any contact with soil, and for that I am extremely grateful. I did, however, do a bit of research about various plants and their effect on the types of soil mentioned today. This research led to me to one glaring conclusion: no matter what the soil looks like, the seed is never wasted.
Take that path, for instance. The one that was so hard, the seed just sat there until it was carried away by the birds of the air. Jesus explains that this type of soil is like a person who hears the word of God and does not understand. Immediately Satan swoops in and steals the Word. Now, what I love most about this analogy is that there a variety of plants that are actually dependent upon birds for germination and continued survival as a species.
Birds eat seeds. Their bodies digest the outer shell of the seeds. Birds then ‘drop’ these seeds via waste elimination. The seeds are sown in this fertile byproduct known as poop, and grow up to produce more plants.
I think similarly, sowing the Word of God in hard places, places where it is immediately snatched away, can have a similar result. I remember once talking with a friend who said, “I had this really weird experience earlier this week. Some guy came up to me and shared a bible verse with me. It meant nothing to me.” When I asked what verse was shared, and the person told me, I thought “The sowing of that Word was meant for me.”
Those big rocks and boulders that do not allow seeds to take proper root? Did you know that the roots which do develop before the plant is scorched and die exerts some degree of force on those rocks? Over the course of time, those root systems can actually break down rocks, turning them from boulders, to rocks, to stones, to pebbles until all you are left with is soil. New seed can take sprout; seed which will be deeply rooted; seed which will not wither in the heat of the sun.
The same is true for sowing the Word of God in the lives of those who have big obstacles to overcome. We may not see a difference in the way these people live their lives. We might be encouraged by an immediate joy and a desire for change, but become discouraged when they come face to face with challenges and revert to old ways of living.
But when that happens, rather than being disheartened, we can be encouraged that the new life that sprung forth, even for a moment, has had some sort of an impact. It has produced some root, which though it may have died quickly, was surely exerting force upon those stones and breaking them down, even if we do not see the result for years to come.
Those thorns, the ones that choke out the seed and do not allow it to grow; well, God is the one who made the garden. God is the one who tends it. God will do the weeding. We cannot know the reason behind why God chooses to move when God moves; or how God chooses to move in the ways in which God moves. We simply know that God works when and in the fashion that God does.
That good soil? The soil which is ready, fertile, tilled? The soil which is free from rocks, free from wees, which produces abundant fruit? Well, you’re all familiar with farming! You know that this type of soil doesn’t just appear overnight! You know the significant labor that goes into producing this soil type and preparing it for seed.
The person the fourth soil type represents didn’t just appear on the scene ready to receive the Word and produce fruit. Chances are, that person has been tended and cared for by God. Chances are, God’s word has been dropped in their life at some point. Chances are, the Word of God has broken up the boulders in their life. Chances are God has plucked the weeds from their life. Nobody starts out as type 4 soil.
As Christians, what type of soil are we?
Are we able to accept the Word of God?
Has God’s Word made a lasting and significant impact on our lives?
Where is our focus on Sunday mornings?
How about Sunday afternoons?
Where do we set our gaze come Monday?
Do our lives produce abundant fruit? Do we see growth of 30, 60, or even 100-fold?
Do we continue to sow the Word of God in all areas of our lives?
Like the four types of soil, we are all in process. And it’s possible to be each one of these types of soil in the course of a week; in the course of a day; in the course of an hour! There is no shame in being any of these soil types, because God creates the soil. God tends the soil. God changes the soil. God is still present, still active, still speaking. The Word of God continues to be sown into our lives. We are called to continue to sow it into the lives of others. This is how the Kindom of God is spread: one seed at a time.
*****
This morning’s texts seem particularly appropriate to our cultural context. It’s all about farming. We live in a small, rural, farm based community. Many of you are farmers, living on farms, working on farms, raising families on farms. I remember as a child spending most Sunday’s after church at my grandparents’ farm. Summers during my very early childhood including playing in haylofts, being terrorized by feral farm cats, and walking the beans in the morning. The reward was half a bottle of Pepsi and a nap on the couch in the couch in the afternoon.
One might think I would have lots to say about this morning texts. One might think I have all kinds of stories to share about planting seeds and reaping harvests. I wish that were the case. I LOVE the idea of gardening. The idea of sustainable, family based agriculture gets me giddy. I love the idea of growing my own food, of putting up preserves, of having homegrown tomatoes turned into succulent sauces that are available in the dead of winter because of something I did with my own hands.
The truth is, however, I cannot dig in the dirt. I really wish I were kidding. But the reality is, I can’t. Terrified. Utterly, completely, and in all other ways terrified. I get nervous just talking about it to you guys. Now there are two reasons for this response. One—the lesser reason—is that dirt is dirty. It grosses me out. I hate getting it under my fingernails. I hate how, at the end of the day, when the skin on your hands has completely dried out and begun to crack, the dirt works its way into those tiny crevices of skin and it’s impossible to get it out. Let’s be honest—garden gloves don’t keep the dirt out. They just make your hands sweat and turn all that dirt into mud. It’s disgusting.
The second reason, though, the real reason I can’t garden, is because I have a phobia. A genuine, bonafide phobia. A completely irrational fear that interferes with my ability to do things that I might otherwise enjoy. I can’t garden, I can’t even seriously contemplate gardening, because the very idea of seeing a certain animal (which happens to be really, really good for your soil) terrifies the bejeezus out of me. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Some people refer to them as night crawlers. Others use a four-letter word I cannot bring myself to even think, let alone type, or speak aloud.
So, now you know. My secret shame. Having grown up on in a rural, agriculturally based culture, I’m almost totally divorced from the foundation of that culture by virtue of this weird little quirk known as a phobia.
Our lesson from the Gospel of Matthew today talked about four different types of soil:
1. A path—hard ground, beaten to a nearly indestructible solid mass of tightly packed earth; the result of years of being tread upon by foot or hoof
2. Rocky ground—soil that has stones, large or small mixed in
3. Thorny soil—dirt that might be rich and fertile, but which is seemingly unsuitable
4. Good soil—soil which is loose, free from debris, rich and fertile, without weeds or thorny plants to interfere with the growth of more preferable plant life
Each of these soils, Jesus tells his disciples, has characteristics that make it either suitable for, or hostile to the growing process.
The first, the path, doesn’t allow for the seed to mix with the soil, and as such, the seed is easily plucked up by the birds of the air which carry it away and consume it.
The second, the rocky ground, allows for the seeds to sprout. However, because the stones interfere with the plants ability to produce a deep and effective root system, when the sun comes out in the heat of the day, the plants are scorched and die. This is similar to the method of weeding most gardeners I know subscribe to—weed early in the morning and the heat of the noonday sun will kill the weeds, not allowing them to take root again. These gardeners also know that if you weed your garden at night, these same undesirable plants will simply take root again over the course of the cool evening and reinvade the garden.
The third soil type, that which contains thorns, is considered unsuitable because the thorns, having been long established, use all of the nutrients that might otherwise go to the seeds which were planted. Seeds planted among thorns might take root, and their root system may run deep, but the thorns have deeper root systems, and in times of drought will use up all of the water in the soil, and so the other seeds are choked out and die.
The fourth soil type is like an Iowa farm field, tilled and fertilized. The soil has been broken up and is suitable for planting. The stones and boulders have been removed. Herbicides have been applied and all alien plant life has been destroyed. This type of soil is prepped and ready. Anything planted in it will take root, grow, and produce fruit.
Jesus then goes on to explain how these types of soil are really types of people. Those who hear the Word of God but do not understand; those who receive the Word with joy but have no root and so wither; those who hear the Word, but who are concerned with the things of this world, with material wealth and whose faith is thus choked out; those who hear the Word and understand it, and bear much fruit.
What I find interesting about this parable that Jesus tells, and his further instruction on what it means, is that Jesus never condemns the soil. It’s simply there. It’s the nature of the path to be hard; it’s the nature of rocky soil not to permit deep roots; it’s the nature of thorny ground to choke out new life; it’s the nature of healthy, fertile, prepared soil to produce abundant fruit.
Even more importantly, it’s clear to me, from a text we read a few weeks ago, that God is the one who determines the soil type. God, who created the heavens and the earth; God who brought forth light; God who separated the ground from the seas; God who produced every living plant—including those thorns; God who created humankind in God’s own image.
The seed is dropped on various types of soil because the sower sows. And the sower seems to sow indiscriminately. Wherever the sower happens to be, there seed is thrown, with the expectation that something may come to fruition, but without much concern thereafter. The seed is sown, and the sower moves on. The sower doesn’t worry about whether or not the seed was sown properly. The sower doesn’t worry about what might have been if only he or she had tossed the seed with more verve. The sower doesn’t sit down and dissect every aspect of their planting, wondering what they could have done to be more effective sowers.
As Christians, we are called to sow the Word of God. We are called to sow liberally. We are called to share the Word of God with everyone. We are not called to do a chemical analysis of the soil; we are not called to break up paths, to move boulders, to rip out weeds or thorns; we are simply called to sow the word. The rest is God’s concern. God determine the soil type. We plant where we are. God provides the growth.
Now, fortunately for us, writing and preaching a sermon on a text deals with various types of soil did not require that I actually had any contact with soil, and for that I am extremely grateful. I did, however, do a bit of research about various plants and their effect on the types of soil mentioned today. This research led to me to one glaring conclusion: no matter what the soil looks like, the seed is never wasted.
Take that path, for instance. The one that was so hard, the seed just sat there until it was carried away by the birds of the air. Jesus explains that this type of soil is like a person who hears the word of God and does not understand. Immediately Satan swoops in and steals the Word. Now, what I love most about this analogy is that there a variety of plants that are actually dependent upon birds for germination and continued survival as a species.
Birds eat seeds. Their bodies digest the outer shell of the seeds. Birds then ‘drop’ these seeds via waste elimination. The seeds are sown in this fertile byproduct known as poop, and grow up to produce more plants.
I think similarly, sowing the Word of God in hard places, places where it is immediately snatched away, can have a similar result. I remember once talking with a friend who said, “I had this really weird experience earlier this week. Some guy came up to me and shared a bible verse with me. It meant nothing to me.” When I asked what verse was shared, and the person told me, I thought “The sowing of that Word was meant for me.”
Those big rocks and boulders that do not allow seeds to take proper root? Did you know that the roots which do develop before the plant is scorched and die exerts some degree of force on those rocks? Over the course of time, those root systems can actually break down rocks, turning them from boulders, to rocks, to stones, to pebbles until all you are left with is soil. New seed can take sprout; seed which will be deeply rooted; seed which will not wither in the heat of the sun.
The same is true for sowing the Word of God in the lives of those who have big obstacles to overcome. We may not see a difference in the way these people live their lives. We might be encouraged by an immediate joy and a desire for change, but become discouraged when they come face to face with challenges and revert to old ways of living.
But when that happens, rather than being disheartened, we can be encouraged that the new life that sprung forth, even for a moment, has had some sort of an impact. It has produced some root, which though it may have died quickly, was surely exerting force upon those stones and breaking them down, even if we do not see the result for years to come.
Those thorns, the ones that choke out the seed and do not allow it to grow; well, God is the one who made the garden. God is the one who tends it. God will do the weeding. We cannot know the reason behind why God chooses to move when God moves; or how God chooses to move in the ways in which God moves. We simply know that God works when and in the fashion that God does.
That good soil? The soil which is ready, fertile, tilled? The soil which is free from rocks, free from wees, which produces abundant fruit? Well, you’re all familiar with farming! You know that this type of soil doesn’t just appear overnight! You know the significant labor that goes into producing this soil type and preparing it for seed.
The person the fourth soil type represents didn’t just appear on the scene ready to receive the Word and produce fruit. Chances are, that person has been tended and cared for by God. Chances are, God’s word has been dropped in their life at some point. Chances are, the Word of God has broken up the boulders in their life. Chances are God has plucked the weeds from their life. Nobody starts out as type 4 soil.
As Christians, what type of soil are we?
Are we able to accept the Word of God?
Has God’s Word made a lasting and significant impact on our lives?
Where is our focus on Sunday mornings?
How about Sunday afternoons?
Where do we set our gaze come Monday?
Do our lives produce abundant fruit? Do we see growth of 30, 60, or even 100-fold?
Do we continue to sow the Word of God in all areas of our lives?
Like the four types of soil, we are all in process. And it’s possible to be each one of these types of soil in the course of a week; in the course of a day; in the course of an hour! There is no shame in being any of these soil types, because God creates the soil. God tends the soil. God changes the soil. God is still present, still active, still speaking. The Word of God continues to be sown into our lives. We are called to continue to sow it into the lives of others. This is how the Kindom of God is spread: one seed at a time.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Why Pens Are Like the Holy Spirit
Acts 2:1-21
*****
Last week was resurrection Sunday. No doubt you all remember that Jesus was taken up into heaven on a cloud. As some of you may be aware, I was at our neighboring church, preaching to the Methodists. I had the best ideaever for the sermon. I wanted to rig some kind of harness and pulley system along with a fog machine to lift me out of the sanctuary during the closing remarks of my sermon. Nobody went for it. They cited budget concerns among their top reaons for keeping creativity out of the sanctuary.
When I learned from my pastor that I would preaching today, I of course immediatly thought of how to bring this scripture to life in a theatrical way. Of course, not far into my imaginings, a voice very similar to my pastor's popped into my head using words like "fire marshall" and "arson investigation." Well, that certainly put a damper on things. So it is, this morning you get a drama-free sermon. Common sense won out. Nobody get to have their head set on fire.
In Acts, which many consider to be our "primary" text for Pentecost, the Holy Spirit shows up amongst a crowd of disciples. There is a great sound, like a rushing wind, and a tongue of fire rests on each of them, and they are all filled with the Holy Spirit.
Some of the more interesting aspects of this passage for me concern the nature of fire and the word that is translated "Spirit." Fire is loud. It requires the presence of oxygen to burn. It tends to change whatever it touches--be it a forest fire or a backyard bar-b-que, nothing from trees to steaks is the same after it's been touched by flames.
The word for Spirit in the Old Testament is the Hebrew "ruach." In the New Testament, it is the Greek "pneuma." Both of these words literally translates "breath." Beginning all the way back in Genesis, when God "breathed" life into a clump of dirt we call Adam, the spirit of God has been known as breath, and all who breathe are known to be created in the image of God.
The spirit of God is also closely linked with another character in the Bible: the personification of wisdom. This may explain the placement of the tongues of flame. Come to think of it, this may also explain that voice in the back of my mind which spoke against any fiery theatrics this morning.
In our Acts passage, when the Holy Spirit appears, manifested as tongues of flame resting on everyone's head, the people began speaking in different languages; languages which were not their mother tongue. As though this weren't amazing enough, those listening heard everything as though it were spoken in their own mother tongue. It would be as though I stood up here this morning speaking Swahili, a language I've never studied, and each of you, knowing I was speaking a foreign language, nonetheless heard my sermon in English.
Some passersby assumed the people were drunk. Knowing this, Peter stands up and says, "Are you all crazy?! It's only 9:00 in the morning!" And then, he starts to preach. Peter repeats the words of the prophet Joes, assuring the people that God will fulfill the promises which were made. God will restore to Israel everything that has been taken from her. And after, God will send the Holy Spirit amongst the people and:
Paul explains it even further in 1 Corinthians. He says that to each of us, the Holy Spirit gives gifts. As an examply today, I've brought some gifts that have been given to me over the years. For my last birthday, a dear friend gave me this:
It's a pig shaped egg timer. Totally practical. Complete whimsy. It's like getting two gifts in one! I danced around in raptures of giddy delight when I opened this gift.
A few years ago for Christmas, my best friend gave me this:
That's right, folks! A toy hippo! But not just any toy hippo. This one sings. And moves. And it sings the best Christmas song in the history of human kind--Gayla Peevey's I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas! My dog, by the way, hates my hippo. She goes crazy and tries to kill it everytime I play the song.
That same year, I gave my best friend a gift as well. It's the same gift I gave myself. A book. The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It's like Aesop's Fables for Harry Potter fans. Rachel thought it was AWESOME!
Shortly after my birthday this year, my best friend and I were hanging out over coffee and she gave me a "just because" gift.
This is a set of glass pens and colored ink. Which I use regularly. As much as email and facebook and the digital world have made instantaneous connections possible, I still prefer to both send and receive (contingent upon your penmanship, of course) hand-written letters.
Now, which of these gifts most resembles the gifts given to us by the Holy Spirit?
(After a moment of silence, someone in our congregation said, "The pens!")
I would agree. Paul talks about the Spirit giving each of ust gifts at the direction and pleasure of God's will. The gifts the Holy Spirit gives us are tailor-made for us. God created us. God knows us inside and out. Everything about us is laid bare before our creator. It should come as no surprise, then, that like each of these gifts my friends have given me, gifts which are surprised and delighted me, which fit me perfectly becuase my friends know me, similarly, God gives us gifts that are uniquely suited to each one of us. This is because God know us, intimately.
And while I'd like to be able to tell you that the gits given to us by God are a lot like a singing hippo, even that's too far a stretch for my imagination.
No, the gifts we receive from God are more like this one: the pen and ink set my friend gave me. The reason: my hippo sits on a shelf all year, and once or twice at Christmas, or during a sermon in June, I'll take it out and squeeze its...arm for lack of a better anatomy term, and I'll listen to it sing. I'll watch it rock back and forth. And while I delight in using a ridiculous toy as a sermon prop, it's primary purpose, it's sole purpose as a gift given, is my own personal delight.
These pens, on the other hand, though given to me, aren't solely, ore even really for me. Now, certainly my friend knows me well, and she knew I would delight in receiving these pnes and inks as a gift. But she also knew that I would use them. And she knew how I would use them as well: pulling out my favorite stationery, writing hand-penned letters, sealing envelopes with wax and a brass seal before sending them via US Postal Service to friends near and far.
It is a gift whose primary purpose in use is not for or about me. The primary purpose of this gift is to bless others. I use it to give to others.
And that's why I think this gift reflects most clearly the gifts given by the Holy Spirit.
The gifts of the Holy Spirit, be it wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, miracles, prophecy, discernment, speaking in tongues, or interpreting tongues, these gifts are not given to us for our personal delight and private enjoyment.
Rather, they are given for the common good; for the benefit of all. If you've been given the gift of teaching, how does it serve you to stand up in an empty classroom and teach to a crowd of empty chairs?
If you've been given a gift of music, how does it serve you to stand on a stage and perform to an empty auditorium?
It doesn't. And it doesn't serve God or anyone else either. Our gifts, like the ink in these bottles, will dry up if unused. They will become useless, and will fail to bless us or anyone else.
And the Bible is clear: the tongues of flame rested on everyone; to each peron is given a gift of the Holy Spirit for the comon good. No one is exempt. And no one gets to keep it all for themselves. We are expected to follow the first rule of kindergarten: Share!
Whatever gift or gifts you have been given, I hope this week and in the weeks to come you make an opportunity to share it with others.
*****
Last week was resurrection Sunday. No doubt you all remember that Jesus was taken up into heaven on a cloud. As some of you may be aware, I was at our neighboring church, preaching to the Methodists. I had the best ideaever for the sermon. I wanted to rig some kind of harness and pulley system along with a fog machine to lift me out of the sanctuary during the closing remarks of my sermon. Nobody went for it. They cited budget concerns among their top reaons for keeping creativity out of the sanctuary.
When I learned from my pastor that I would preaching today, I of course immediatly thought of how to bring this scripture to life in a theatrical way. Of course, not far into my imaginings, a voice very similar to my pastor's popped into my head using words like "fire marshall" and "arson investigation." Well, that certainly put a damper on things. So it is, this morning you get a drama-free sermon. Common sense won out. Nobody get to have their head set on fire.
In Acts, which many consider to be our "primary" text for Pentecost, the Holy Spirit shows up amongst a crowd of disciples. There is a great sound, like a rushing wind, and a tongue of fire rests on each of them, and they are all filled with the Holy Spirit.
Some of the more interesting aspects of this passage for me concern the nature of fire and the word that is translated "Spirit." Fire is loud. It requires the presence of oxygen to burn. It tends to change whatever it touches--be it a forest fire or a backyard bar-b-que, nothing from trees to steaks is the same after it's been touched by flames.
The word for Spirit in the Old Testament is the Hebrew "ruach." In the New Testament, it is the Greek "pneuma." Both of these words literally translates "breath." Beginning all the way back in Genesis, when God "breathed" life into a clump of dirt we call Adam, the spirit of God has been known as breath, and all who breathe are known to be created in the image of God.
The spirit of God is also closely linked with another character in the Bible: the personification of wisdom. This may explain the placement of the tongues of flame. Come to think of it, this may also explain that voice in the back of my mind which spoke against any fiery theatrics this morning.
In our Acts passage, when the Holy Spirit appears, manifested as tongues of flame resting on everyone's head, the people began speaking in different languages; languages which were not their mother tongue. As though this weren't amazing enough, those listening heard everything as though it were spoken in their own mother tongue. It would be as though I stood up here this morning speaking Swahili, a language I've never studied, and each of you, knowing I was speaking a foreign language, nonetheless heard my sermon in English.
Some passersby assumed the people were drunk. Knowing this, Peter stands up and says, "Are you all crazy?! It's only 9:00 in the morning!" And then, he starts to preach. Peter repeats the words of the prophet Joes, assuring the people that God will fulfill the promises which were made. God will restore to Israel everything that has been taken from her. And after, God will send the Holy Spirit amongst the people and:
- your sons and daughters shall prophesy
- your young men will see visions
- your old men shall dream dreams
- both men and women, even those who have never held a place of honor, shall prophesy
- and everyone who call onthe name of God shall be saved.
Paul explains it even further in 1 Corinthians. He says that to each of us, the Holy Spirit gives gifts. As an examply today, I've brought some gifts that have been given to me over the years. For my last birthday, a dear friend gave me this:
A few years ago for Christmas, my best friend gave me this:
That's right, folks! A toy hippo! But not just any toy hippo. This one sings. And moves. And it sings the best Christmas song in the history of human kind--Gayla Peevey's I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas! My dog, by the way, hates my hippo. She goes crazy and tries to kill it everytime I play the song.
That same year, I gave my best friend a gift as well. It's the same gift I gave myself. A book. The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It's like Aesop's Fables for Harry Potter fans. Rachel thought it was AWESOME!
Shortly after my birthday this year, my best friend and I were hanging out over coffee and she gave me a "just because" gift.
Now, which of these gifts most resembles the gifts given to us by the Holy Spirit?
(After a moment of silence, someone in our congregation said, "The pens!")
I would agree. Paul talks about the Spirit giving each of ust gifts at the direction and pleasure of God's will. The gifts the Holy Spirit gives us are tailor-made for us. God created us. God knows us inside and out. Everything about us is laid bare before our creator. It should come as no surprise, then, that like each of these gifts my friends have given me, gifts which are surprised and delighted me, which fit me perfectly becuase my friends know me, similarly, God gives us gifts that are uniquely suited to each one of us. This is because God know us, intimately.
And while I'd like to be able to tell you that the gits given to us by God are a lot like a singing hippo, even that's too far a stretch for my imagination.
No, the gifts we receive from God are more like this one: the pen and ink set my friend gave me. The reason: my hippo sits on a shelf all year, and once or twice at Christmas, or during a sermon in June, I'll take it out and squeeze its...arm for lack of a better anatomy term, and I'll listen to it sing. I'll watch it rock back and forth. And while I delight in using a ridiculous toy as a sermon prop, it's primary purpose, it's sole purpose as a gift given, is my own personal delight.
These pens, on the other hand, though given to me, aren't solely, ore even really for me. Now, certainly my friend knows me well, and she knew I would delight in receiving these pnes and inks as a gift. But she also knew that I would use them. And she knew how I would use them as well: pulling out my favorite stationery, writing hand-penned letters, sealing envelopes with wax and a brass seal before sending them via US Postal Service to friends near and far.
It is a gift whose primary purpose in use is not for or about me. The primary purpose of this gift is to bless others. I use it to give to others.
And that's why I think this gift reflects most clearly the gifts given by the Holy Spirit.
The gifts of the Holy Spirit, be it wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, miracles, prophecy, discernment, speaking in tongues, or interpreting tongues, these gifts are not given to us for our personal delight and private enjoyment.
Rather, they are given for the common good; for the benefit of all. If you've been given the gift of teaching, how does it serve you to stand up in an empty classroom and teach to a crowd of empty chairs?
If you've been given a gift of music, how does it serve you to stand on a stage and perform to an empty auditorium?
It doesn't. And it doesn't serve God or anyone else either. Our gifts, like the ink in these bottles, will dry up if unused. They will become useless, and will fail to bless us or anyone else.
And the Bible is clear: the tongues of flame rested on everyone; to each peron is given a gift of the Holy Spirit for the comon good. No one is exempt. And no one gets to keep it all for themselves. We are expected to follow the first rule of kindergarten: Share!
Whatever gift or gifts you have been given, I hope this week and in the weeks to come you make an opportunity to share it with others.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Witnessing Jesus
Acts 1:1-11
*****
When I was in college, my christian fellowship went on a roadtrip to southern Missouri for a conference. To make te long trip pass more quickly, our car played a game of "If." If is a book, subtitled Questions for the Game of Life.
All of the questions in the book If bgin with he word "if." If this...then what? Implied in the question is the expectation that youwill also explain the reasoning behind your answer. It's a neat game that helps you get to know your friends and yourself a bit better.
Questions run the gamut from the totally expected: If you had only twenty-four hours to live, what would you do with the time? to the more novel: If you could keep only one of your five senses, which would it be? If, what, and the implied why.
During this particular game, one of the first questions stumbled upon in the book, and subsequently asked of the group was, "If you could witness any event in all of history, which event would it be?"
Now, I ended up being the first to answer, and it seems my response set the stage. "Ooooh," I said excited, "I would want to witness the crucifixion!"
"No, no, no," the driver chimed in, "I'd want to wintness the resurrection!"
"I think I'd pick the ascension," said one of the women in the back seat. The next hour or so was spent on theological debates, arguments, and explanations for our choices. All in all, it was pretty cool road trip.
When I read the story of the ascension, it always kind of makes me want to giggle. It actually reminds me of case studies I read about in my high school psychology class that dealt with the need to conform. Humans are so geared toward social conformity that if a particular behavior is modeled by person A at a given time and place, subsequent people arriving will follow suit.
For example, studies have been done in which a person gets into a manned elevator, tells the engineer which floor they need and then does not turn around through the entire elevator trip, spending the whole of the trip facing the back wall of the elevator rather than the doors.
What subsequent riders did not know was that this is a social experiment conducted by the rider and the "engineer" who is a plant. In this experiment some 80% of subsequent elevator riders also end up spending the elevator ride facing the back wall rather than the doors. The need to conform, to create social cohesion, is just that strong.
It's another experiment in social conformity, however, that really reminds me of today's reading. In this experiment, the researcher stopped on a busy street and looked up. Thye said nothing, they did not point. They merely stood there, looking up toward the tops of the surrounding buildings.
In this case, more than 50% of passersby also stopped to look, creating a larger and larger crowd. Everyone just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring. The average length of time a person stopped for was over 3 minutes. When asked what they were looking at, they answered, "I don't know."
This is what comes to mind when I read today's story: a bunch of people, standing around, staring at...nothing, with no idea what comes next. And then, two men wearing white robes show up. I think these "men" are traditionally identified as angels. And tha identification makes sense. Why? Well, some might point to their shiny white dress.
I think a better indication is the fact that they don't act like human beings. They don't stop and stare as well. They do not simply ask the men why they are staring. They also tell them what comes next: that Jesus will some day return in the same fashion in which he left.
So, these men who have travelled with Jesus since the begin of his ministry three years previous return to Jerusalem to begin the work that Jesus set before them: that by the power of the Holy Spirit they would become Jesus's witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
This is a charge we have also received, and it's not an easy one to fulfill. We are fighting agains the very basics of human nature when we choose as Paul stated in Romans, not to "conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but to be tranformed by the renewing of our minds."
This is the exampel Jesus set, and the one to which we are called to be witnesses. Not merely that Jesus was a miracle worker who was raised from the dead. Historical record indicates that Jesus was not the only person living in the first century about whom such claims were made.
Rather, Jess, as a religious leader with a rag-tag band of followers was a rebel. Jesus sought not to conform to the patterns of this world. He chose not to conform to the pattern and history of spiritual abuses perpetuated by religious authorities in 1st century Jerusalem, nor to meekly accept the physical and economic abuses perpetuated by imperial Roman rule.
Jesus sought instead to transform the religious establishment itself. Jesus sought to put an end to a system that used people's religious devotion as a means of separating out the "haves" and the "have-nots," of those who were considered worthy and those seen as worth less. Jesus sought to end an exploitative system of sacrifice in favor of repentence and forgiveness based upon his own once-for-all sacrifice.
And it can't have been easy. Bullies are everywhere. And we see them clearly thoughout the gospels--the scribes and Pharisees who plot to destroy Jesus when he won't conform to their ways of doing things, the Roman rulers who sentence Jesus to death for sedition, the soldiers who actually crucify him--following orders. Again, that drive to conform is so strong in humans--one Roman soldier actually recognizes Jesus as the Son of God, but does nothing to stop the heinous evens to which he is a witness.
Things haven't changed much in the last two thousand years. The pages of history are littered with such tales. In 1517, having witnessed the abuses of the Catholic Church--the selling of indulgences which turned the church into little more than a brothel, the increased wealth of the church leaders who exploited the starving masses, the threats of hell for loved ones if people did not pay specified amounts--a German monk by the name of Martin Luther nailed 95 theses to the door of a church in Wittenburg.
Luther was looking to transform a corrupt institution, to return it to its roots as a movement for people who were seeking to be close to God. He never desire nor intended to start a new religious movement. But it happened. And the religious establishment he sought to transform responded much the way the religious elite had responded to Jesus--they sought to have him assassinated.
Ironically, Martin Luther's life was spared because the German princes who were tired of paying papal taxes gave him sanctuary. And so protestantism began.
Fast forward 400 years, and another German--a Lutheran by the name of Dietrich Bonhoeffer is watching the political climate of his country. He sses a young, rising star in the political realm using the propaganda of nationalism to gain power. Bonhoeffer warns of the potential dire consequences of this individual ruling Germany. No one pays heed.
Adolf Hitler is elected chancellor of Germany. Hitler's plans to rebuild Germany after the first World War result in the second World War, and the systematic imprisonment and execution of over 6 million Jews, and the immediately slaughter of over 1 million Roma people.
While the majority of the German population conformed through active military serivice or silent ascent, a small group of committed individuals chose to defy their culture. They sought transformation instead.
Even after his rise to power, Dietrich Bonhoeffer continued to speak out against Hitler. Having studied at Union Theological Seminary in New Yok in 1936, his classmates and professors were instrumental in getting Bonhoeffer a teaching position at Union, knowing it would be too dangerous for him to remain in Germany.
After a few months, Bonhoeffer gave up his position at Union, and the safety and comfort it afforded him, and he returned to his homeland, saying of Germany that he could have no part in rebuilding her if he abandoned her during her fall.
Bonhoeffer and his family had been plotting the assassination of Adolf Hitler. When the plan was uncovered, Bonhoeffer was imprisoned. He continued to write theological treatises, which the S.S. officers at his camp smuggled out for him. These letters and papers are much beloved and studied by theology students everywhere today.
On the morning he was taken from his cell and walked to the gallows to where he was to be executed for treason, Bonhoeffer was still writing of the love and forgiveness of God, that even in that moment was being extended to the men who would march him to his death.
Twenty years later, Martin Luther King, Jr. would take a stand against racial segregation and injustice in the United States. He and those who stood alongside him, who marched with him, who sought to carry the light of hope, justice, and equality into the dark places refused to be conformed to the standards of this world, but rather were transformed by the hope of the gospel and sought to transform the world around them as well. They were beaten, jailed, abused, and many, including King, were killed for their stance.
Doing what is right, living the gospel, seeking to be transformed by God and to be a tranformative agen in the world around us is costly. It requires that we give up everything--wealth, position, privilege, loved ones--for the sake of the gospel, for the sake of knowing and following Jesus.
Though our natural inclination as humans is conformity and social cohesion, as Christians we are set apart and called to something more. And while the sacrifices required to do the right thing, to live the gospel wherever we happen to find ourselves might be great, we are never called to do it alone.
God has promised not to leave us as orphans. Jesus has sent to us what God has promised: we have been clothed with power form on high. we have been given the Holy Spirit, the very presence of God as our helper, comforter, sustainer, advocate, and friend.
It is through the Holy Spirit that we choose not to be conformed to the pattern of this world, but to be transformed and transformative instead. It is by the power of the Holy Spirit that we can choose to love our enemies. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we can, so far as it depends on us, live at peace with everyone. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we are able, if our enemy is hungry, to feed him; if he is thirsty, to give him something to drink.
By the power of the Holy Spirit, we are able not to be overcome by evil, but rather to overcome evil with good. In so doing, we fulfill the call of Jesus in the final chapter of Luke's gospel. In doing what is right rather than what is easy, in choosing transformation over conformity, in seeking justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with the Spirit of God, we truly become witnesses of Jesus to the world, and we bring his tranformative power to those around us.
*****
When I was in college, my christian fellowship went on a roadtrip to southern Missouri for a conference. To make te long trip pass more quickly, our car played a game of "If." If is a book, subtitled Questions for the Game of Life.
All of the questions in the book If bgin with he word "if." If this...then what? Implied in the question is the expectation that youwill also explain the reasoning behind your answer. It's a neat game that helps you get to know your friends and yourself a bit better.
Questions run the gamut from the totally expected: If you had only twenty-four hours to live, what would you do with the time? to the more novel: If you could keep only one of your five senses, which would it be? If, what, and the implied why.
During this particular game, one of the first questions stumbled upon in the book, and subsequently asked of the group was, "If you could witness any event in all of history, which event would it be?"
Now, I ended up being the first to answer, and it seems my response set the stage. "Ooooh," I said excited, "I would want to witness the crucifixion!"
"No, no, no," the driver chimed in, "I'd want to wintness the resurrection!"
"I think I'd pick the ascension," said one of the women in the back seat. The next hour or so was spent on theological debates, arguments, and explanations for our choices. All in all, it was pretty cool road trip.
When I read the story of the ascension, it always kind of makes me want to giggle. It actually reminds me of case studies I read about in my high school psychology class that dealt with the need to conform. Humans are so geared toward social conformity that if a particular behavior is modeled by person A at a given time and place, subsequent people arriving will follow suit.
For example, studies have been done in which a person gets into a manned elevator, tells the engineer which floor they need and then does not turn around through the entire elevator trip, spending the whole of the trip facing the back wall of the elevator rather than the doors.
What subsequent riders did not know was that this is a social experiment conducted by the rider and the "engineer" who is a plant. In this experiment some 80% of subsequent elevator riders also end up spending the elevator ride facing the back wall rather than the doors. The need to conform, to create social cohesion, is just that strong.
It's another experiment in social conformity, however, that really reminds me of today's reading. In this experiment, the researcher stopped on a busy street and looked up. Thye said nothing, they did not point. They merely stood there, looking up toward the tops of the surrounding buildings.
In this case, more than 50% of passersby also stopped to look, creating a larger and larger crowd. Everyone just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring. The average length of time a person stopped for was over 3 minutes. When asked what they were looking at, they answered, "I don't know."
This is what comes to mind when I read today's story: a bunch of people, standing around, staring at...nothing, with no idea what comes next. And then, two men wearing white robes show up. I think these "men" are traditionally identified as angels. And tha identification makes sense. Why? Well, some might point to their shiny white dress.
I think a better indication is the fact that they don't act like human beings. They don't stop and stare as well. They do not simply ask the men why they are staring. They also tell them what comes next: that Jesus will some day return in the same fashion in which he left.
So, these men who have travelled with Jesus since the begin of his ministry three years previous return to Jerusalem to begin the work that Jesus set before them: that by the power of the Holy Spirit they would become Jesus's witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
This is a charge we have also received, and it's not an easy one to fulfill. We are fighting agains the very basics of human nature when we choose as Paul stated in Romans, not to "conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but to be tranformed by the renewing of our minds."
This is the exampel Jesus set, and the one to which we are called to be witnesses. Not merely that Jesus was a miracle worker who was raised from the dead. Historical record indicates that Jesus was not the only person living in the first century about whom such claims were made.
Rather, Jess, as a religious leader with a rag-tag band of followers was a rebel. Jesus sought not to conform to the patterns of this world. He chose not to conform to the pattern and history of spiritual abuses perpetuated by religious authorities in 1st century Jerusalem, nor to meekly accept the physical and economic abuses perpetuated by imperial Roman rule.
Jesus sought instead to transform the religious establishment itself. Jesus sought to put an end to a system that used people's religious devotion as a means of separating out the "haves" and the "have-nots," of those who were considered worthy and those seen as worth less. Jesus sought to end an exploitative system of sacrifice in favor of repentence and forgiveness based upon his own once-for-all sacrifice.
And it can't have been easy. Bullies are everywhere. And we see them clearly thoughout the gospels--the scribes and Pharisees who plot to destroy Jesus when he won't conform to their ways of doing things, the Roman rulers who sentence Jesus to death for sedition, the soldiers who actually crucify him--following orders. Again, that drive to conform is so strong in humans--one Roman soldier actually recognizes Jesus as the Son of God, but does nothing to stop the heinous evens to which he is a witness.
Things haven't changed much in the last two thousand years. The pages of history are littered with such tales. In 1517, having witnessed the abuses of the Catholic Church--the selling of indulgences which turned the church into little more than a brothel, the increased wealth of the church leaders who exploited the starving masses, the threats of hell for loved ones if people did not pay specified amounts--a German monk by the name of Martin Luther nailed 95 theses to the door of a church in Wittenburg.
Luther was looking to transform a corrupt institution, to return it to its roots as a movement for people who were seeking to be close to God. He never desire nor intended to start a new religious movement. But it happened. And the religious establishment he sought to transform responded much the way the religious elite had responded to Jesus--they sought to have him assassinated.
Ironically, Martin Luther's life was spared because the German princes who were tired of paying papal taxes gave him sanctuary. And so protestantism began.
Fast forward 400 years, and another German--a Lutheran by the name of Dietrich Bonhoeffer is watching the political climate of his country. He sses a young, rising star in the political realm using the propaganda of nationalism to gain power. Bonhoeffer warns of the potential dire consequences of this individual ruling Germany. No one pays heed.
Adolf Hitler is elected chancellor of Germany. Hitler's plans to rebuild Germany after the first World War result in the second World War, and the systematic imprisonment and execution of over 6 million Jews, and the immediately slaughter of over 1 million Roma people.
While the majority of the German population conformed through active military serivice or silent ascent, a small group of committed individuals chose to defy their culture. They sought transformation instead.
Even after his rise to power, Dietrich Bonhoeffer continued to speak out against Hitler. Having studied at Union Theological Seminary in New Yok in 1936, his classmates and professors were instrumental in getting Bonhoeffer a teaching position at Union, knowing it would be too dangerous for him to remain in Germany.
After a few months, Bonhoeffer gave up his position at Union, and the safety and comfort it afforded him, and he returned to his homeland, saying of Germany that he could have no part in rebuilding her if he abandoned her during her fall.
Bonhoeffer and his family had been plotting the assassination of Adolf Hitler. When the plan was uncovered, Bonhoeffer was imprisoned. He continued to write theological treatises, which the S.S. officers at his camp smuggled out for him. These letters and papers are much beloved and studied by theology students everywhere today.
On the morning he was taken from his cell and walked to the gallows to where he was to be executed for treason, Bonhoeffer was still writing of the love and forgiveness of God, that even in that moment was being extended to the men who would march him to his death.
Twenty years later, Martin Luther King, Jr. would take a stand against racial segregation and injustice in the United States. He and those who stood alongside him, who marched with him, who sought to carry the light of hope, justice, and equality into the dark places refused to be conformed to the standards of this world, but rather were transformed by the hope of the gospel and sought to transform the world around them as well. They were beaten, jailed, abused, and many, including King, were killed for their stance.
Doing what is right, living the gospel, seeking to be transformed by God and to be a tranformative agen in the world around us is costly. It requires that we give up everything--wealth, position, privilege, loved ones--for the sake of the gospel, for the sake of knowing and following Jesus.
Though our natural inclination as humans is conformity and social cohesion, as Christians we are set apart and called to something more. And while the sacrifices required to do the right thing, to live the gospel wherever we happen to find ourselves might be great, we are never called to do it alone.
God has promised not to leave us as orphans. Jesus has sent to us what God has promised: we have been clothed with power form on high. we have been given the Holy Spirit, the very presence of God as our helper, comforter, sustainer, advocate, and friend.
It is through the Holy Spirit that we choose not to be conformed to the pattern of this world, but to be transformed and transformative instead. It is by the power of the Holy Spirit that we can choose to love our enemies. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we can, so far as it depends on us, live at peace with everyone. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we are able, if our enemy is hungry, to feed him; if he is thirsty, to give him something to drink.
By the power of the Holy Spirit, we are able not to be overcome by evil, but rather to overcome evil with good. In so doing, we fulfill the call of Jesus in the final chapter of Luke's gospel. In doing what is right rather than what is easy, in choosing transformation over conformity, in seeking justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with the Spirit of God, we truly become witnesses of Jesus to the world, and we bring his tranformative power to those around us.
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