Scripture: Genesis 22:1-14
Sermon: Keep on Listening
This story has all the marks of an ancient tribal legend, and screams to be put in context.
Child-less Abraham has been promised by God he will be the father of a great nation. God has given Abraham and Sarah a miracle son, Isaac. Isaac begins to grow up. Then Abraham hears God telling him to sacrifice him.
In the time and culture and among the people with whom Abraham is living, the difficult part is not that a god would demand human sacrifice. The difficult thing is that God commands the death of the one through whom Abraham thinks God's promise will be realized.
Abraham obeys, though, and prepares to do what he knows is God's will. Then at the last second God intervenes to save the child's life and provides Abraham an alternate sacrifice.
The legend affirms a number of things central to Abrahamic (i.e. Jewish, Christian and Muslim) faith. God speaks and the divine will is revealed in varieties of ways. Those who hear and obey God's will are God's people through whom the world is blessed. And God provides what is needed for worship and relationship with God (and it is not the sacrifice of other people).
But what does it mean to "hear and obey"? Abraham heard and obeyed two different and opposite commands from God. First, he was convinced God wanted him to kill Isaac; then just as he was about to plunge the knife, something convinced him God didn't really want that, and had in mind a different way ahead.
What if Abraham had stopped listening once his mind was made up?
Are we as good at keeping our ears open to new revelations of what God really wants? At keeping our plans open-ended and subject to revision, even once our minds are made up?
It's a good question on the personal level.
It's a good question also on the political and social level. Friday, June 27 is Canadian Multiculturalism Day, followed by Canada Day July 1. We'll remember both in worship this Sunday, and use the character of Abraham in this story as a focal point in exploring what it means to be a people and a nation that is a blessing to the world.
Extra Helpings -- wanderings and wonderings in retirement ... staying in touch from a different place
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Towards Sunday, June 15, 2014
Scripture: Genesis 2:4b-8, 15 and Psalm 8
Sermon: Praying with Dirty Hands
The assigned reading from the Hebrew Scriptures for this Sunday (as Trinity Sunday) is Genesis 1:1-2:4a -- the first story of Earth's creation, which emphasizes the role of God, God's Word and God's Spirit in perfectly ordering the cosmos as we know it, and as it has been placed under our care.
For this Sunday as Fathers' Day I have chosen a few verses from the second story of Earth's creation -- particularly emphasizing God's entrusting of Earth and its well-being into our care. The Psalm assigned for the day (Ps. 8) also affirms and celebrates our role as gardener and carer of Earth in God's name and spirit.
2500 years ago, when these stories and this psalm were written, people believed the king was God's appointed agent on Earth, and that giving all power and authority to a righteous king was the way for Earth and its creatures to be well. Genesis 1 and 2, Psalm 8 and other texts of the Hebrew Scriptures represent a break from that kind of political theology, though. They say instead that all of us together -- common, ordinary people in community, are God's agents on Earth, and that the life and well-being of Earth and its creatures are in all our hands.
2500 years ago this was liberating and empowering news. It's uncomfortable news today, though. We lament (or alternately try to deny) the effect we have had on Earth's life. We also feel increasingly powerless to affect the environmental tide of our day.
So Genesis 2 and Psalm 8 might not come to our hearts as encouraging words of empowerment about the dignity of being human together. We might hear instead a word of hard judgement about the effect we have had as Earth's gardeners and God's appointed servants.
And what does this have to do with Fathers' Day?
For this week I'm focusing on the way fathers (yes, mothers, too...but this is Fathers' Day) can teach us what it means to take on prayerful and faithful responsibility for the world -- like Adam in the Garden, and like so many of the fathers, grandfathers, uncles and male role models in our life who have given their life to taking good care of their part of the world. Is there any man in your life who has shown you what that means?
Fathers and men in general are maligned in popular culture. We struggle with both the realities and the stereotypes of absentee fathers, irresponsible fathers, abusive fathers. Men who are fathers also share very deeply the general cultural angst about powerlessness to effect change and to create the kind of home, community and environment that serves their children's and the greater good, and helps make the world the kind of home it is meant to be for all life.
So I wonder, as we listen to Genesis 2 and Psalm 8 in the midst of worshipping God, might we begin to discern an image of what it means to be a man (sic.) of God -- to be someone who takes responsibility to care for the world according to the Word and Spirit of God? To be someone who knows what it is to pray with dirty hands?
Sermon: Praying with Dirty Hands
The assigned reading from the Hebrew Scriptures for this Sunday (as Trinity Sunday) is Genesis 1:1-2:4a -- the first story of Earth's creation, which emphasizes the role of God, God's Word and God's Spirit in perfectly ordering the cosmos as we know it, and as it has been placed under our care.
For this Sunday as Fathers' Day I have chosen a few verses from the second story of Earth's creation -- particularly emphasizing God's entrusting of Earth and its well-being into our care. The Psalm assigned for the day (Ps. 8) also affirms and celebrates our role as gardener and carer of Earth in God's name and spirit.
2500 years ago, when these stories and this psalm were written, people believed the king was God's appointed agent on Earth, and that giving all power and authority to a righteous king was the way for Earth and its creatures to be well. Genesis 1 and 2, Psalm 8 and other texts of the Hebrew Scriptures represent a break from that kind of political theology, though. They say instead that all of us together -- common, ordinary people in community, are God's agents on Earth, and that the life and well-being of Earth and its creatures are in all our hands.
2500 years ago this was liberating and empowering news. It's uncomfortable news today, though. We lament (or alternately try to deny) the effect we have had on Earth's life. We also feel increasingly powerless to affect the environmental tide of our day.
So Genesis 2 and Psalm 8 might not come to our hearts as encouraging words of empowerment about the dignity of being human together. We might hear instead a word of hard judgement about the effect we have had as Earth's gardeners and God's appointed servants.
And what does this have to do with Fathers' Day?
For this week I'm focusing on the way fathers (yes, mothers, too...but this is Fathers' Day) can teach us what it means to take on prayerful and faithful responsibility for the world -- like Adam in the Garden, and like so many of the fathers, grandfathers, uncles and male role models in our life who have given their life to taking good care of their part of the world. Is there any man in your life who has shown you what that means?
Fathers and men in general are maligned in popular culture. We struggle with both the realities and the stereotypes of absentee fathers, irresponsible fathers, abusive fathers. Men who are fathers also share very deeply the general cultural angst about powerlessness to effect change and to create the kind of home, community and environment that serves their children's and the greater good, and helps make the world the kind of home it is meant to be for all life.
So I wonder, as we listen to Genesis 2 and Psalm 8 in the midst of worshipping God, might we begin to discern an image of what it means to be a man (sic.) of God -- to be someone who takes responsibility to care for the world according to the Word and Spirit of God? To be someone who knows what it is to pray with dirty hands?
Monday, June 02, 2014
Toward Sunday, June 8, 2014 (Pentecost Sunday)
Scripture: Acts 2:1-21 and Numbers 11:4-6, 10-20, 24-35
Looking at Numbers 11 and Acts 1 and 2, I am struck by the way God upsets human notions of leadership and authority in the community of faith.
Prior to Numbers 11, Moses holds all the spirit and is the sole spiritual leader for the people -- their one connection with God's good will. Once he feels how impossible a role this is, he (probably honestly) expresses the wish that God's Spirit-power could be shared by all. Nonetheless, his trusty assistant Joshua still feels some jealousy and considerable anxiety when 2 of the appointed 70 Spirit-receivers don't comply with the stated guidelines of the college of elders ("Moses! Moses! We have 2 rogue elders not following the rules!"). He is not comfortable with the freedom with which God distributes the spirit of prophecy.
And maybe likewise the first followers of Jesus?
Acts 1 tells the story of how important it seems to them to re-create the college of 12 disciples (all male) by immediately filling the vacancy left by Judas ("Whew! Now we have 12 again!"). But then in the very next chapter of the story, God swoops down and showers Spirit-power willy-nilly on all who are assembled.
In hindsight the authoring community of Luke-Acts relates this as a wonderful thing, but at the same time cannot deny the uneasiness within the community's leadership about how freely God's Spirit-power is being distributed (see Acts 8:36; 9:13-14; 10:44-45; 11:2-3; 15:1-21). It takes the followers of Jesus some time and a lot of soul-searching to move beyond the same sort of exclusive notions of spiritual authority that they (and Jesus) suffered from at the hands of the Pharisees.
What does Pentecost mean for us in 2014 as we struggle to walk with God in our time?
Looking at Numbers 11 and Acts 1 and 2, I am struck by the way God upsets human notions of leadership and authority in the community of faith.
Prior to Numbers 11, Moses holds all the spirit and is the sole spiritual leader for the people -- their one connection with God's good will. Once he feels how impossible a role this is, he (probably honestly) expresses the wish that God's Spirit-power could be shared by all. Nonetheless, his trusty assistant Joshua still feels some jealousy and considerable anxiety when 2 of the appointed 70 Spirit-receivers don't comply with the stated guidelines of the college of elders ("Moses! Moses! We have 2 rogue elders not following the rules!"). He is not comfortable with the freedom with which God distributes the spirit of prophecy.
And maybe likewise the first followers of Jesus?
Acts 1 tells the story of how important it seems to them to re-create the college of 12 disciples (all male) by immediately filling the vacancy left by Judas ("Whew! Now we have 12 again!"). But then in the very next chapter of the story, God swoops down and showers Spirit-power willy-nilly on all who are assembled.
In hindsight the authoring community of Luke-Acts relates this as a wonderful thing, but at the same time cannot deny the uneasiness within the community's leadership about how freely God's Spirit-power is being distributed (see Acts 8:36; 9:13-14; 10:44-45; 11:2-3; 15:1-21). It takes the followers of Jesus some time and a lot of soul-searching to move beyond the same sort of exclusive notions of spiritual authority that they (and Jesus) suffered from at the hands of the Pharisees.
What does Pentecost mean for us in 2014 as we struggle to walk with God in our time?
Sunday, June 01, 2014
Sunday, June 1 (Ascension Sunday)
Scripture: John 17:1-11, Acts 1:6-14
Sermon: We are the answer to Jesus' Prayer
What do you give one who has everything? For Christmas, birthday, anniversary, graduation, whatever … what do you give that he (or she) hasn’t already got?
It’s Jesus’ last night with his disciples. Soon he will be betrayed. It’s graduation night when he changes from being rabbi to redeemer, from teacher and healer to martyr and messiah. And on this night of all nights, when God Father of us all will surely give him whatever he desires, what does Jesus ask for?
In our reading he doesn’t pray to be relieved of the burden. That comes later and only in the other Gospels, when he leaves the upper room to go out to the garden. That’s where he wonders if he really has to do this, then prays, “Thy will, not mine, be done” – which some say is the only real prayer we can ever make – that instead of praying for specific things – even things like health, well-being, comfort and peace, really all we should pray for is to know God’s will and be enabled to do it.
That Garden Prayer, though, is in the other Gospels. In this Gospel Jesus is still at the table with his disciples when he turns to God in prayer.
And in this final prayer he doesn’t pray for world peace – like Miss America and many good-hearted liberals. He doesn’t pray for revenge on his and God’s enemies, an end to evil-doers, or a swift and sure triumph of the right – like so many fundamentalists. Nor does he pray for a million pieces of silver to help finance some megaproject for the kingdom – something that many people of all stripes are tempted with.
He prays for the one crucial thing he does not have – or will not have any longer. He prays for a body to do God’s work and act out God’s kingdom in the world.
I t’s no accident being
at the table with Jesus and the other disciples. Nor is it our choice, our goodness or our
strength that bring us here. We are here
by God’s choice, by God’s grace and good will.
Nor do we choose who we are here with.
If we want to be in relationship with God and the work of the kingdom,
we must be in relationship with whoever else God has chosen to be part of the
body. It’s bigger than you and I; it’s
as big as God’s desire for the world.
Sermon: We are the answer to Jesus' Prayer
What do you give one who has everything? For Christmas, birthday, anniversary, graduation, whatever … what do you give that he (or she) hasn’t already got?
It’s Jesus’ last night with his disciples. Soon he will be betrayed. It’s graduation night when he changes from being rabbi to redeemer, from teacher and healer to martyr and messiah. And on this night of all nights, when God Father of us all will surely give him whatever he desires, what does Jesus ask for?
In our reading he doesn’t pray to be relieved of the burden. That comes later and only in the other Gospels, when he leaves the upper room to go out to the garden. That’s where he wonders if he really has to do this, then prays, “Thy will, not mine, be done” – which some say is the only real prayer we can ever make – that instead of praying for specific things – even things like health, well-being, comfort and peace, really all we should pray for is to know God’s will and be enabled to do it.
That Garden Prayer, though, is in the other Gospels. In this Gospel Jesus is still at the table with his disciples when he turns to God in prayer.
And in this final prayer he doesn’t pray for world peace – like Miss America and many good-hearted liberals. He doesn’t pray for revenge on his and God’s enemies, an end to evil-doers, or a swift and sure triumph of the right – like so many fundamentalists. Nor does he pray for a million pieces of silver to help finance some megaproject for the kingdom – something that many people of all stripes are tempted with.
He prays for the one crucial thing he does not have – or will not have any longer. He prays for a body to do God’s work and act out God’s kingdom in the world.
“I am no longer in the world,”
he says, “but they are …”
Peter, James, John,
Andrew and all the rest hear Jesus pray to God that they be a body to do God’s
work and act out God’s kingdom in the world as he has with his.
Father, I thank you for the ones
you have given me.
I have shown them your heart and
mind.
I am no longer visible in the
world, but they will be.
I thank you for the body you
have made them to be in me,
and I pray they be of one heart
and mind with you and the kingdom,
as
you and I are one in the work of the kingdom.
It took the first
disciples and the early church a while to catch on to this. We see it in the stories the New Testament
tells of their struggles and their growth into their calling. Church history since then tells us we also never
get it always right and that we often lose God’s way and what Jesus prays for.
The Book of Acts,
though, is the helpful story of how the disciples of Jesus learn to live into, and
live out Jesus’ prayer for us. It’s a
story of our becoming the answer to Jesus’ prayer, and it all begins with the disciples
learning to stop looking heavenward.
“Men of Galilee, why do you stand
looking up toward heaven?”
Heaven is big these
days. “Heaven is for Real” is the title
of a best-selling book about a four-year-0ld boy – the son of a Nebraska
preacher, who sees heaven while undergoing surgery – and is able to talk about
it after. The book is now also a
movie. It led to a book-style special edition
of Time magazine titled “Discovering Heaven.”
Maybe it’s also leading some to give God and religious faith another try
– maybe there’s something to this faith thing after all.
When I was a child in
the church, heaven was what it was all about.
The ultimate question was whether I would be in heaven or hell, and the
good news of Christianity was that it was a way to be sure of heaven after I
died.
I’ve since come to
see, though, that God and Jesus are more concerned about Earth than heaven, and
that heaven in the Bible is not so much where we go to be with God after death,
but where the power of God comes from to shape life in a good way on Earth right
now.
Our
bulletin this week includes this quotation from John Holbert, the Lois Craddock
Perkins Professor Emeritus of Homiletics at Perkins School of Theology in
Dallas, Texas:
…heaven-gazing with increasingly stiff necks
is not the work of a true disciple
of Jesus. Real disciples head for places of Holy Spirit power, a power
that
will make them witnesses, proclaimers of the
good news of Jesus the Christ,
the one who has
come to release the captives, to pay special
attention to the
disabled and all the marginalized of the
society, to see the places where
oppression is rampant
and speak [and act] against it. In 2014 we have far too
many heaven-gazers and far too few disciples.
Or, as he says in the summary to his blog post: “Ascension Sunday is about the
dangers of looking high when Jesus asks us to look low at the people he has
come to redeem.”
In this vein, Rev. Thom Shumann, a minister of the Presbyterian Church USA,
whose words we adapted for our Call to Worship, writes this little meditation
he calls “signs”:
not in a great flood
washing
us all away,
but
in the muddy puddle
where
children float boats created out of leaves and twigs,
we
find your power;
not in the superstars
who
step off the red carpet for a quick selfie,
but
in the kitchen of the grandmother
setting
out a platter of just-baked cookies
and
glasses of cold milk for the kids coming in from school,
we
feel your presence;
not in the candidate's
confetti-strewn ballroom
with
ecstatic supporters popping champagne,
but
in the inner-city emergency room
where nurses treat their patients as
if they were royalty,
we
glimpse your glory.
Even
the Time magazine special edition on “Discovering Heaven” is sub-titled, “How
Our Ideas About the Afterlife Shape How We Live Today.” It reminds us of the direction Jesus gives to
not leave Jerusalem and to wait there for the promise of the Father, for “you
will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my
witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria (in other words, in the holy
centre and in the unholy fringe), and to the ends of the earth.”
Because
it’s not only heaven that’s real. Jesus
tells us the kingdom of heaven – the will of God being done on earth as it is
in heaven, is also real.
And the one thing Jesus
prays for is for people – for his disciples especially, to be a body that is
open to the power that will help them do God’s work and act out God’s kingdom
in the world as he has.
As we think about
Jesus – not only rabbi but redeemer, not only teacher and healer but messiah
and saviour, we know what he wants. And
we are – at least we are meant to be, the answer to his prayer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)