I typically post my sermons and such as I have gotten out the habit of blogging. Perhaps this is a chance to get back to it. The recent news of Osama's death has been interesting to watch, especially through the eyes of social media. Many posts I have seen are patriotic and celebratory.
Now, I will not deny that this man has been responsible in some way for countless numbers of death around the world over the years. But does that fact make it right to celebrate his death? Does the loss of life ever warrant celebration.
Hitler, Saddaam Hussein, and others of this sort need to be stopped, but loss of life is still loss of life. Marked with solemnity and reverence for life, not a party like atmosphere in front of the White House.
I think what causes me to pause most is the number of pro life folks who seem to be all about the death of bin Laden...does that not seem strange? How they value a human life that has not even been born but yet celebrate the death of another? I had a friend point this out to me several years ago and caused me to rethink my position on the death penalty.
Death of bin Laden - justice done or just a human life lost?
Monday, May 02, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Maundy Thursday Sermon
An Ordinary Day
Maundy Thursday 2011
It was an ordinary day. Breakfast was being served. The man of the house was off to work. The woman of the house was off to a meeting. Then, the nanny storms down the stairs and announces she has had enough, the children have run away for the last time and she quits. (pause)
The opening song sung by Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins begins with “Winds in the east, mist coming in, like something is brewin’ about to begin” It was an ordinary day that would not stay that way. For the Banks family, the ordinary was about to change.
For the disciples, their world was about to turn upside down. These are the stories that we will tell together as we enter the Triduum. The Great Three Days. The disciples had no way to know what was brewin’. They had entered Jerusalem a few days before with Jesus. Then the crowds had dissipated. Jesus had been teaching in the temple. Life seemed ordinary. They were preparing for the Passover. John’s gospel takes place as the disciples were gathering with Jesus for an evening meal. An ordinary evening meal just before the Passover. But what would follow would seem to be anything but ordinary.
They were sharing a meal, but during dinner, Jesus got up and did something they did not expect. He took off his outer garment, took a towel and took a basin and filled it with water and began to wash their feet.
Footwashing in the first century was ordinary. Footwashing was customary. People walked everywhere. Their shoes were no more than leather tied to the bottom of their feet. Feet were dusty when it was dry and muddy when it was wet. There were usually pots of water and basins and towels at the door so people could wash their feet. But washing feet was one of the most menial tasks. Usually given to a servant or slave, it was not for the master. The holy is under the ordinary.
The meal was ordinary. An evening meal shared with friends. The disciples probably ate meals together more often than not. But we know that like the footwashing this ordinary event was changed as Jesus took the bread and the cup and made them symbols. Bread and wine, now made symbols to help them re-member their time together. The holy is under the ordinary.
How many ordinary acts do we experience in a day? We stand with Peter as he protests Jesus’ act. Peter protests as he can only see the ordinary. He could only see his teacher, his Lord washing his feet, a job for servants. He could not see that to receive Jesus’ act of hospitality and love was to be included into the days ahead. Peter could not see that he was participating in the holy.
Jesus comments that Peter does not understand what is happening, but that later he will. As Jesus finishes washing their feet, he puts on his robe and takes his place at the table with them. He tells them that he has set an example for them to follow. That if he as their Lord and master can serve them in this way, then they too should serve one another.
As the evening goes on Jesus leaves them with a commandment to love one another as he has loved them. A commandment that he has enacted in the footwashing. It is a commandment not to wash feet as we might see at the surface, but a commandment to seek the holy underneath the ordinary. To find the holiness in an everyday act. When the holiness is uncovered for all to see, people will undoubtedly know these are Jesus disciples, there is a difference in the action, the people will see acts done in love.
We are given this commandment as well. Today was probably an ordinary day for most. Got up, went to work, went through our daily routines, but tonight we have joined together to mark the beginning of Triduum.
We have come to remember, not a first century scene of dinner and footwashing, but to participate in it, to remember it here and now, and to be re-membered into it.
We are here to seek the holy beneath the ordinary.
To seek the holy in bread and wine,
to seek the holy in water and basin,
to seek the holy in handshakes and hugs
to seek the holy under the ordinary.
In the midst of the ordinary, how do we know what the holy looks like? In Mary Poppins it is seeing the woman on the steps of St Paul’s feeding the birds, it is in the tupins that Michael gives to his father, it is in the act of mending a kite and going to the park where father and son enjoy the afternoon. So what about our lives?
The holy lurks in conversation over a cup of coffee.
In reconnecting by phone with an old friend.
The holy waits for us in being church, hosting IHN, providing for those in need, providing meals for families who are sick and for families who mourn,
The holy is here at the table,
in the bread and in the cup,
it is in the basins and water
and in those who will wash feet.
As we enter the Great Three days, where might you find the Holy lurking? Where do you see the love of Christ that calls us into community, that calls us to be disciples, to love one another as we have been loved by Jesus. As we remember, reenact, and relive the stories over the next three days be looking, the holy is under the ordinary.
Maundy Thursday 2011
It was an ordinary day. Breakfast was being served. The man of the house was off to work. The woman of the house was off to a meeting. Then, the nanny storms down the stairs and announces she has had enough, the children have run away for the last time and she quits. (pause)
The opening song sung by Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins begins with “Winds in the east, mist coming in, like something is brewin’ about to begin” It was an ordinary day that would not stay that way. For the Banks family, the ordinary was about to change.
For the disciples, their world was about to turn upside down. These are the stories that we will tell together as we enter the Triduum. The Great Three Days. The disciples had no way to know what was brewin’. They had entered Jerusalem a few days before with Jesus. Then the crowds had dissipated. Jesus had been teaching in the temple. Life seemed ordinary. They were preparing for the Passover. John’s gospel takes place as the disciples were gathering with Jesus for an evening meal. An ordinary evening meal just before the Passover. But what would follow would seem to be anything but ordinary.
They were sharing a meal, but during dinner, Jesus got up and did something they did not expect. He took off his outer garment, took a towel and took a basin and filled it with water and began to wash their feet.
Footwashing in the first century was ordinary. Footwashing was customary. People walked everywhere. Their shoes were no more than leather tied to the bottom of their feet. Feet were dusty when it was dry and muddy when it was wet. There were usually pots of water and basins and towels at the door so people could wash their feet. But washing feet was one of the most menial tasks. Usually given to a servant or slave, it was not for the master. The holy is under the ordinary.
The meal was ordinary. An evening meal shared with friends. The disciples probably ate meals together more often than not. But we know that like the footwashing this ordinary event was changed as Jesus took the bread and the cup and made them symbols. Bread and wine, now made symbols to help them re-member their time together. The holy is under the ordinary.
How many ordinary acts do we experience in a day? We stand with Peter as he protests Jesus’ act. Peter protests as he can only see the ordinary. He could only see his teacher, his Lord washing his feet, a job for servants. He could not see that to receive Jesus’ act of hospitality and love was to be included into the days ahead. Peter could not see that he was participating in the holy.
Jesus comments that Peter does not understand what is happening, but that later he will. As Jesus finishes washing their feet, he puts on his robe and takes his place at the table with them. He tells them that he has set an example for them to follow. That if he as their Lord and master can serve them in this way, then they too should serve one another.
As the evening goes on Jesus leaves them with a commandment to love one another as he has loved them. A commandment that he has enacted in the footwashing. It is a commandment not to wash feet as we might see at the surface, but a commandment to seek the holy underneath the ordinary. To find the holiness in an everyday act. When the holiness is uncovered for all to see, people will undoubtedly know these are Jesus disciples, there is a difference in the action, the people will see acts done in love.
We are given this commandment as well. Today was probably an ordinary day for most. Got up, went to work, went through our daily routines, but tonight we have joined together to mark the beginning of Triduum.
We have come to remember, not a first century scene of dinner and footwashing, but to participate in it, to remember it here and now, and to be re-membered into it.
We are here to seek the holy beneath the ordinary.
To seek the holy in bread and wine,
to seek the holy in water and basin,
to seek the holy in handshakes and hugs
to seek the holy under the ordinary.
In the midst of the ordinary, how do we know what the holy looks like? In Mary Poppins it is seeing the woman on the steps of St Paul’s feeding the birds, it is in the tupins that Michael gives to his father, it is in the act of mending a kite and going to the park where father and son enjoy the afternoon. So what about our lives?
The holy lurks in conversation over a cup of coffee.
In reconnecting by phone with an old friend.
The holy waits for us in being church, hosting IHN, providing for those in need, providing meals for families who are sick and for families who mourn,
The holy is here at the table,
in the bread and in the cup,
it is in the basins and water
and in those who will wash feet.
As we enter the Great Three days, where might you find the Holy lurking? Where do you see the love of Christ that calls us into community, that calls us to be disciples, to love one another as we have been loved by Jesus. As we remember, reenact, and relive the stories over the next three days be looking, the holy is under the ordinary.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Where is the Pneuma blowing?
A cold blustery as the season of Lent begins. The residents of the small French village are shuffling into the Cathedral just off the town square. The mayor stands at the door of the church welcoming them. He clearly is in control. Everyone knows their place. The people look the other way rather than see what is right in front of them. The grieving widow still grieves, even after 42 years. A boy is not allowed to be a boy and run and play with the others, he is protected by his mother. A woman is an abused wife, but stays with her husband. She remarks that if you don’t fall in line with the town traditions then you are crazy. They all have their place. The town believes in order.
Just as the town portrayed in the 2001 movie, Chocolat, I think we all seek order. We like life to follow predictable patterns. Morning routines, Sunday morning worship, we like to know what to expect, to know what comes next. We are content to go about our daily lives having an idea of where life will lead us today, of what tomorrow could bring. I think Nicodemus sought that too.
Nicodemus was a Pharisee, he was a ruler among his people. He stood on generations of wisdom and education. He liked the predictable. He liked the expected. Like the mayor of the small French village, he liked everyone in their place. The problem is, that things do not always stay predictable, orderly.
In the French village, the worship service starts, the congregation sings “come Holy Ghost, creator come, and take possession of our souls and make them thine own…” A strange wind begins to blow. Candles flicker. The scene changes to two figures cloaked in red, walking along the outskirts of the city blown in by a stiff wind. A woman, Vianne, and her daughter. They have come to rent the local patisserie just across the square from the church. They complete the deal with the landlady as the worship service continues.
The young priest mounts the pulpit speaking about the Season of Lent. A time for abstinence, reflection and penitence, the mayor quotes along. The priest continues the wind whistles through the church. “Where will we find truth?” asks the priest. The church doors blow wide open with a strong gust of wind. The mayor rises and quickly moves to close the doors, but only after a bit of a struggle.
The chocolatrie is something new The mayor does not want change. Not while he is in control. He writes the sermons for the young priest, he controls what the people hear. He protects the traditions and the generations of the way of life of the small town. He leads through is own example and watches over his village. He trusts the wisdom of past generations.
How many doors do we shut to keep out the winds of change? I, for one, am not a fan of the daylight savings time as it messes with my routines. We resist having to change our driving patterns for construction or special events. We argue that “we’ve always done it that way” to prevent changes to traditions. We seek truth, but are we willing to let it change us?
Jesus had been performing signs during the Passover. Many people came to faith because of what they saw. The Pharisees had seen the signs too. But what Nicodemus and others had witnessed during the Passover was anything but predictable. Nicodemus trusted the wisdom of generations and was a believer in tradition as well. Nicodemus was well versed in Hebrew Scripture, but he could sense something new was blowing into town. Nicodemus seeks out Jesus. He comes by night. We are not given any clues as to why Nicodemus comes by night. Maybe the fear of being found out? Maybe it was the only time for uninterrupted conversation? Maybe his questions about Jesus and the signs he has been performing have kept him awake?
As we listen in on the conversation between Nicodemus and Jesus, Nicodemus respectfully addresses Jesus as “Rabbi.” He seems to have come honestly seeking to gain understanding into what he and others have witnessed. Even though he comes seeking, Nicodemus is unprepared for what he finds.
The encounter with Jesus does nothing to restore order it only confuses the Pharisee further. Jesus tells Nicodemus that no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above. This can be translated 2 ways in Greek. Born again or born from above. Nicodemus takes the literal meaning, puzzled by how a grown person can be physically born again. Jesus answers him with another play on words. Jesus tells him again he must be born from above, be born of the Spirit, Pneuma. In the verses that follow Jesus speaks of the wind, pneuma, blowing where it chooses and that one knows neither where it comes from nor where it goes. At this point, Nicodemus asks “How can this be?”
So what is this born again/ born from above thing? How do we hear this today? Growing up in the Bible belt I hear the phrase and think of all my friends who came from traditions that practiced a believers baptism. For them, being born again was about a specific event that was when they accepted Christ. In my own understanding, I don’t really point to one event, I was baptized as an infant and I have always been on a journey of faith. I think the key is that we start on this journey of faith and that we open ourselves to the Spirit moving in our lives.
Too often, whether we come to faith at birth or later in life, we become complacent in our faith and we stick to the predictable routines. They are comfortable. It is like taking the same path to work everyday, it is familiar.
Just as Nicodemus is stumped by the born again/born from above thing, he is further confused by the play on Pneuma, the Greek word for both Spirit and wind. I can imagine Nicodemus thinking to himself, “what on Earth is Jesus talking about? I have read and studied the Hebrew Scritpures but I have never heard of anything like this.”
Just like Nicodemus, the Mayor encounters something he did not expect. As the movie Chocolat continues to unfold, the community begins to slowly change. They begin to live into the breath of fresh air that has blown in with Vianne and her chocolate. The changes occur slowly and often outside of the sight of Vianne. She becomes discouraged.
As she is set to leave, she hears laughter in the kitchen. She is surprised and touched to find members of the community finishing preparations for the Easter day celebration. The mayor watches from his office window and is distraught as he watches members of the community whom he trusts, going in and out of the chocolatrie. He can take no more and under the cover of night, he breaks in and destroys the window display and in doing so gets chocolate on his lip. He is overcome with the taste and is discovered the next morning asleep among the chocolate.
He finally gives into the encounter with Vianne. He finally gives into the encounter he has with this woman who came with the wind. There is a lightening of the spirit in the town. A freedom from complacency, from predictable order.
Nicodemus is offered this same freedom. He has encountered the living God. He is given the opportunity to be open to the movement of the Spirit. His spiritual rebirth is nothing he can do on his own as the Spirit will blow where it will. We see Nicodemus briefly later in the Gospel of John, once to defend Jesus and at the end as he brings the burial spices after Jesus’ crucifixion. We do not know much about this man, but his actions speak to the beginnings of letting the Spirit blow as it will and perhaps blow Nicodemus beyond his predictable life.
We too encounter the living Word. We too can experience a spiritual rebirth. The Holy Spirit blows where she wants and to have been born of the Spirit is to surrender to her movements, to follow where we are led. We do not know what old parts of our lives will be blown away or what new experiences will blow into our lives.
Where are the places in our lives that we experience the winds of change? Where are there places that we need to seek the leadings of the Spirit to guide us to something new? This breath of fresh air blows not only into our lives individually, but into our life together as well. Where do we as a church need to seek change? Where is the Spirit blowing new life into Westminster Presbyterian Church?
If we are willing to be open to encountering Jesus, willing to be born again, willing to follow as the spirit leads us, where might the freedom from predictable order take us? May we be willing to follow where the pneuma may blow.
Just as the town portrayed in the 2001 movie, Chocolat, I think we all seek order. We like life to follow predictable patterns. Morning routines, Sunday morning worship, we like to know what to expect, to know what comes next. We are content to go about our daily lives having an idea of where life will lead us today, of what tomorrow could bring. I think Nicodemus sought that too.
Nicodemus was a Pharisee, he was a ruler among his people. He stood on generations of wisdom and education. He liked the predictable. He liked the expected. Like the mayor of the small French village, he liked everyone in their place. The problem is, that things do not always stay predictable, orderly.
In the French village, the worship service starts, the congregation sings “come Holy Ghost, creator come, and take possession of our souls and make them thine own…” A strange wind begins to blow. Candles flicker. The scene changes to two figures cloaked in red, walking along the outskirts of the city blown in by a stiff wind. A woman, Vianne, and her daughter. They have come to rent the local patisserie just across the square from the church. They complete the deal with the landlady as the worship service continues.
The young priest mounts the pulpit speaking about the Season of Lent. A time for abstinence, reflection and penitence, the mayor quotes along. The priest continues the wind whistles through the church. “Where will we find truth?” asks the priest. The church doors blow wide open with a strong gust of wind. The mayor rises and quickly moves to close the doors, but only after a bit of a struggle.
The chocolatrie is something new The mayor does not want change. Not while he is in control. He writes the sermons for the young priest, he controls what the people hear. He protects the traditions and the generations of the way of life of the small town. He leads through is own example and watches over his village. He trusts the wisdom of past generations.
How many doors do we shut to keep out the winds of change? I, for one, am not a fan of the daylight savings time as it messes with my routines. We resist having to change our driving patterns for construction or special events. We argue that “we’ve always done it that way” to prevent changes to traditions. We seek truth, but are we willing to let it change us?
Jesus had been performing signs during the Passover. Many people came to faith because of what they saw. The Pharisees had seen the signs too. But what Nicodemus and others had witnessed during the Passover was anything but predictable. Nicodemus trusted the wisdom of generations and was a believer in tradition as well. Nicodemus was well versed in Hebrew Scripture, but he could sense something new was blowing into town. Nicodemus seeks out Jesus. He comes by night. We are not given any clues as to why Nicodemus comes by night. Maybe the fear of being found out? Maybe it was the only time for uninterrupted conversation? Maybe his questions about Jesus and the signs he has been performing have kept him awake?
As we listen in on the conversation between Nicodemus and Jesus, Nicodemus respectfully addresses Jesus as “Rabbi.” He seems to have come honestly seeking to gain understanding into what he and others have witnessed. Even though he comes seeking, Nicodemus is unprepared for what he finds.
The encounter with Jesus does nothing to restore order it only confuses the Pharisee further. Jesus tells Nicodemus that no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above. This can be translated 2 ways in Greek. Born again or born from above. Nicodemus takes the literal meaning, puzzled by how a grown person can be physically born again. Jesus answers him with another play on words. Jesus tells him again he must be born from above, be born of the Spirit, Pneuma. In the verses that follow Jesus speaks of the wind, pneuma, blowing where it chooses and that one knows neither where it comes from nor where it goes. At this point, Nicodemus asks “How can this be?”
So what is this born again/ born from above thing? How do we hear this today? Growing up in the Bible belt I hear the phrase and think of all my friends who came from traditions that practiced a believers baptism. For them, being born again was about a specific event that was when they accepted Christ. In my own understanding, I don’t really point to one event, I was baptized as an infant and I have always been on a journey of faith. I think the key is that we start on this journey of faith and that we open ourselves to the Spirit moving in our lives.
Too often, whether we come to faith at birth or later in life, we become complacent in our faith and we stick to the predictable routines. They are comfortable. It is like taking the same path to work everyday, it is familiar.
Just as Nicodemus is stumped by the born again/born from above thing, he is further confused by the play on Pneuma, the Greek word for both Spirit and wind. I can imagine Nicodemus thinking to himself, “what on Earth is Jesus talking about? I have read and studied the Hebrew Scritpures but I have never heard of anything like this.”
Just like Nicodemus, the Mayor encounters something he did not expect. As the movie Chocolat continues to unfold, the community begins to slowly change. They begin to live into the breath of fresh air that has blown in with Vianne and her chocolate. The changes occur slowly and often outside of the sight of Vianne. She becomes discouraged.
As she is set to leave, she hears laughter in the kitchen. She is surprised and touched to find members of the community finishing preparations for the Easter day celebration. The mayor watches from his office window and is distraught as he watches members of the community whom he trusts, going in and out of the chocolatrie. He can take no more and under the cover of night, he breaks in and destroys the window display and in doing so gets chocolate on his lip. He is overcome with the taste and is discovered the next morning asleep among the chocolate.
He finally gives into the encounter with Vianne. He finally gives into the encounter he has with this woman who came with the wind. There is a lightening of the spirit in the town. A freedom from complacency, from predictable order.
Nicodemus is offered this same freedom. He has encountered the living God. He is given the opportunity to be open to the movement of the Spirit. His spiritual rebirth is nothing he can do on his own as the Spirit will blow where it will. We see Nicodemus briefly later in the Gospel of John, once to defend Jesus and at the end as he brings the burial spices after Jesus’ crucifixion. We do not know much about this man, but his actions speak to the beginnings of letting the Spirit blow as it will and perhaps blow Nicodemus beyond his predictable life.
We too encounter the living Word. We too can experience a spiritual rebirth. The Holy Spirit blows where she wants and to have been born of the Spirit is to surrender to her movements, to follow where we are led. We do not know what old parts of our lives will be blown away or what new experiences will blow into our lives.
Where are the places in our lives that we experience the winds of change? Where are there places that we need to seek the leadings of the Spirit to guide us to something new? This breath of fresh air blows not only into our lives individually, but into our life together as well. Where do we as a church need to seek change? Where is the Spirit blowing new life into Westminster Presbyterian Church?
If we are willing to be open to encountering Jesus, willing to be born again, willing to follow as the spirit leads us, where might the freedom from predictable order take us? May we be willing to follow where the pneuma may blow.
Starting the Easter Prep
Dear Fellow Followers of the Way:
I know it is not Easter yet, but meetings are underway to plan for Holy Week, and last week a few of us attended a seminar at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary about The Great Three Days. Westminster Presbyterian Church has a tradition of celebrating Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and the Easter Vigil during Holy Week. They may sound like three separate services, but in actuality they are one service that spans across the days. There are lots of parts to read and prayers to be prayed. Many in the congregation will have a part to play.
You might look at the schedule for Holy Week and think “Wow! Thursday, Friday, Saturday AND Sunday. That is a lot of church!” The reality of it is that it is time that we spend together retelling our story, the story of who we are and how we got here.
We begin in the upper room as Jesus shares a meal with the disciples and washes their feet. We journey through the chaos of Good Friday to the cross upon which Jesus dies. We join on Saturday to retell the salvation history of the people of God and to celebrate the Risen Christ.
This is about storytelling. And just as with good storytelling, you have to take your time and tell the stories with care. It is important for us to bring the past into our present memory, to continue to sit together and retell the story every year. These are the stories that we want to become a part of the very core of who we are. That is why we like to have lots of people involved in retelling these stories.
You may still think that it makes for a lot of church. I invite you to mark you calendars now however to be a part of this great story. Step out as you need to, there are others who will continue to tell the story, to keep the story flowing, but remember this is your story, it is our story so plan to come and join is as much of the Great Three Days as is possible.
Grace, Mercy and Peace,
Karen
I know it is not Easter yet, but meetings are underway to plan for Holy Week, and last week a few of us attended a seminar at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary about The Great Three Days. Westminster Presbyterian Church has a tradition of celebrating Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and the Easter Vigil during Holy Week. They may sound like three separate services, but in actuality they are one service that spans across the days. There are lots of parts to read and prayers to be prayed. Many in the congregation will have a part to play.
You might look at the schedule for Holy Week and think “Wow! Thursday, Friday, Saturday AND Sunday. That is a lot of church!” The reality of it is that it is time that we spend together retelling our story, the story of who we are and how we got here.
We begin in the upper room as Jesus shares a meal with the disciples and washes their feet. We journey through the chaos of Good Friday to the cross upon which Jesus dies. We join on Saturday to retell the salvation history of the people of God and to celebrate the Risen Christ.
This is about storytelling. And just as with good storytelling, you have to take your time and tell the stories with care. It is important for us to bring the past into our present memory, to continue to sit together and retell the story every year. These are the stories that we want to become a part of the very core of who we are. That is why we like to have lots of people involved in retelling these stories.
You may still think that it makes for a lot of church. I invite you to mark you calendars now however to be a part of this great story. Step out as you need to, there are others who will continue to tell the story, to keep the story flowing, but remember this is your story, it is our story so plan to come and join is as much of the Great Three Days as is possible.
Grace, Mercy and Peace,
Karen
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