Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/31

“But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God – having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with them.” -- 2 Tim. 3:1-5

Tonight is week 4 in our congregation’s study of the theology of John and Charles Wesley. We will be talking about the importance of having both the form and the power of godliness. This text will be central to our conversation.

What is most interesting about this warning is that the author is actually warning us of people who look like disciples of Christ but are actually disciples of themselves or the ways of the world. It is a warning against people who aren’t really lovers of God, they just play them on TV. It is a warning against those “good, churchgoing folk” that are really no less self-absorbed, greedy, and mean than anyone else. It’s a warning against people who have the form of godliness, but deny its power.

In his book Recapturing the Wesleys’ Visison, Paul Wesley Chilcote offers an analogy that demonstrates the need for both the form and the power of godliness. “It is like the old story about the sailboat,” he says. “The purpose of a boat with sails, of course, is to skim across the surface of the water. But if there is no wind, the boat lies dead in the water despite the means it has to utilize the wind. Likewise, if the sails are not unfurled, then there is no way to put the wind to constructive use. It simply blows you about – or blows you to pieces.”

Make sure, as you sail through the rest of your day today, that you are on the water when the wind comes. And when that wind comes, open your sails in the form of godliness so that you may be safely led by the power of God.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/30

“His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’” – John 9:2

The disciples’ question in today’s Gospel lesson shows the human need to make sense of things. Even these pre-pre-pre-Enlightenment disciples had a need for explanation. Even they wanted to set up cause and effect relationships to make sense of things. Surely, those who follow God’s will are blessed, and those who don’t are cursed. Those who follow God’s will are healthy, and those who don’t are ill.

So, if this man is blind, it has to be SOMEONE’S fault. Where’s the blame? Whose sin can we point the finger at as the explanation for this man’s blindness? The disciples remind me of Jerry Falwell in the aftermath of 9/11, who chose to blame the sins of a multitude of “evildoers”, including homosexuals, as the cause of that day’s horrific events.

But today, I encourage you to think a little differently about the destruction and wrath that surrounds us. Do not blame victims because “they asked for it.” They most certainly did not. And don’t blame yourself if you are a victim. “It’s not your fault,” Robin Williams’ character says to Will in Good Will Hunting, repeating that line over and over again until Will finally gets it.

“Whose fault is it?” is the question of the disciples, and the prevailing question in most bad moments of life. But Jesus says not to worry about who is at fault. Rather, we should worry about how God reveals Godself to us within those bad moments. How, in those dark alleys of life, is “the work of God displayed”?

One Life to Love

Sermon for Sunday, March 29, 2009
Scripture: John 12:20-33

“Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” Well, I guess last week’s sermon of fully embracing life was totally off base. I spent all that time talking about how important it is to embrace the hopeful life, and now Jesus is telling us to hate our life in this world. So apparently, we’re supposed to be miserable. We’re supposed to wish we were dead. Well then, that doesn’t sound like a life filled with hope, now does it?

Here’s the dichotomy: hate our life or love our life. Hating earthly life: GOOD. Loving earthly life: BAD. What in the heck is Jesus talking about? Doesn’t he want us to enjoy life? Doesn’t he love us? Why would he want us to be miserable? If you’re often confused by this verse of hating vs. loving life, don’t worry: you’re not alone. It’s not an easy text to understand. Sometimes it confuses me too. But let’s give it a shot together today. Let’s unpack this love/hate thing that Jesus is crossing us up with.

When we read this text, the first helpful thing to know is that the love/hate theme is a popular one in Greek writing. It is often used as an exaggeration to signify preference of one thing over another. So here Jesus is saying you must prefer life in Christ over your own earthly life. But this isn’t supposed to be some type of self-loathing. Jesus isn’t telling us to live a life that we absolutely detest. We’re not supposed to be running around crying “I hate my life!” all the time. This is not Christ’s command here.

Nor is this verse a command to “be like Jesus” in suffering. We are not all called to be martyrs and die for our faith. We are not all called to suffer just as Jesus suffered. And we don’t need to suffer or die for God to love us. So, Jesus is not calling us to engage in self-flagellation, in physically punishing ourselves for sins we may have committed. There is no need for that.

What Jesus means here is that we must prefer one way of thinking over another. It is not hating our earthly life and wishing we could just die “to be with Jesus.” That way of thinking produces nothing but laziness, boasting, and lack of love for our neighbors. The goal is not to hate one existence – our present existence – and long for our future existence in eternal life. The message Jesus teaches us here is a message of reorientation. It’s a message of thinking about things in a new way. Jesus really loves to do that – get us to think about things in new ways.

Those who love their life will not gain life in Christ, and those who hate their life will have life in Christ. You see, it’s when we let our selfish ambitions rule our lives that we lose life in Christ. It’s the desire to control our life, to say, “It’s MY life, and I’ll do what I want,” that we must reject. It’s interesting the songs that people sing:

“It’s your thing, do what you wanna do now.”

“It’s my life, it’s now or never, I ain’t gonna live forever, I just wanna live while I’m alive.”

“I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I, wanna talk about number one oh me oh my.”

As long as we maintain control over our lives and fall in love with that control, we will be unable to find life in Christ. We will be unable to have Christ live in us. We can say, “I own my life, it’s my life, and it’s my way or the highway.” Or, we can say, “Have thine own way, Lord, have thine own way. You are the potter, and I am the clay. Mold me and make me after thy will, while I am waiting, yielded and still.” We can hold the title of ownership to our life, or we can sign that title over to the one to whom our life was meant to belong to: God our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.

Jesus offers a brilliant analogy in his teaching here, that of a grain of wheat. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” You see, when a grain of wheat falls into the earth, it has two choices. It can insist that it remain a seed. “I am a grain, a seed, and I will forever be a seed. But within that seed is the potential for new life, for new growth. The grain of wheat that falls to the earth and insists on remaining a seed is like the person who wants to maintain control and ownership. It’s the person who says, “I am a seed. That I know and that I can control. And I’m not going to let some other, new life spring forth from me. I’m perfectly comfortable as a seed.”

But the grain of wheat that falls onto the earth and dies to its own motives, its own desires as a seed, is the one that prospers. That is the seed that is selfless – the one who says, “Have thine own way, new life within me. Have thine own way.” It’s the seed that says, “I will let this life contained within me to burst forth and take over, so that I am no longer a seed but a new stalk of wheat. My own desires have died so that the life within me can now take over.”

We are all like a grain of wheat. We have two choices: to think of ourselves first, or to think of the potential for Christ to live through us. Like any grain of wheat falling to the earth, we all have great potential for Christ to live in and through us. We all have a piece of Christ living within us, just waiting to shoot forth and prosper in the sun. But if Christ is to live in and through us, we must cede control. We must give up control of our life to Jesus Christ if he is to enact a transformation within us. We can love the control and love our seediness so much that we are forever an unproductive, worthless seed. Or, we can give up control, sign ownership of our life over to Christ, and become transformed by that new life that is just waiting to spring forth from us. We can allow ourselves to become new creations, controlled by someone even greater than us.

The call this morning is clear: we must let Jesus take control of our lives. We must allow Jesus to be in charge, rather than insisting that we maintain control. For if we maintain control, how will any growth and transformation take place? If we maintain ownership, if we love thinking of it as our life, then how can Christ ever live in and through us? We must give up our desire to think about this life as “ours,” instead allowing it to become “Christ’s life within us.” We must not control, but be controlled. For the only life we can keep eternally is the life of Jesus Christ within us. If we treat it as our life, it will be our life, and it will end when it ends. But if our life becomes the life of Christ within us, that life is eternal. Christ’s life is eternal, so the only way to inherit eternal life is to allow our life to die for the sake of Christ’s life within us.

So let us die to ourselves so that Christ may live within us. Let us lose control over our earthly life, and gain the control of Jesus Christ in and through us. Let us sign away our lives to God, for eternity. May the lives we live not be our own to control, but be lives that Christ lives through us. In the name of the one who Creates, Redeems, and Sustains that life. Amen.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion 3/26

“Woe to him…who says, ‘I will build myself a spacious house with large upper rooms.’” – Jeremiah 22:13-14

“I spoke to you in your prosperity, but you said, ‘I will not listen.’” – Jeremiah 22:21

My first inclination in reading the prophet Jeremiah’s words is to get defensive. Surely he’s not talking about me. Surely judgment is not coming on me for building a lavish mansion and enjoying my prosperity. This must be for all those people who have WAY more money than me. I don’t have enough for a house with “large upper rooms” and cedar-paneled windows. I’m not really that prosperous – my car is a piece of junk and my television is too small to watch hockey on – and I don’t even have DVR!

But Jeremiah is talking about me. He is talking about my lavish lifestyle. It may not be lavish compared to a lot of people, or compared to the “American dream” way of life, but it is certainly a dreamy, prosperous life. I have all my basic needs provided, more clothes than I need, I can go to restaurants and eat like a king, and I get to travel to see friends in Atlanta and my grandmother in Florida. I am living the very life Jeremiah prophesies against.

Sometimes I wish passages like this were left out of the Bible. You know the ones I’m talking about: the ones that convict us. The ones that make us realize we’re not as awesome as we think we are, that we’re not really living the way God wants us to live.

So today, Jeremiah’s words will be pestering me all day. They’ll keep reminding me that I live a life of extravagance, and maybe that’s not such a good thing. They’ll remind me of how ridiculously blessed I am – how when it comes down to it, I have it all. These words will continue to convict me and call me to re-examine my level of prosperity, and they will remind me of all those who have never lived a day of prosperity, let alone the 26 years I’ve been fortunate to live. Today, Jeremiah speaks to me in my prosperity, and I must listen.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion 3/25

“So I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was working at his wheel. The vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as seemed good to him. Then the word of the Lord came to me: Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as this potter has done? says the Lord. Just like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.” – Jeremiah 18:3-6

As some of you already know, today is my birthday. On such a day, I am caught up reflecting on the purpose God has laid out for me. For what has God created me? What life has he prepared and laid out ahead of me? Will I fulfill that purpose and that life to which God calls me?

Seeing as I’m human, I’m sure that at times I’m no more than spoiled clay in God’s hands. God tries to mold me after his will, but sometimes God isn’t able to make me into the vessel I’m supposed to be. Maybe I’m refusing to move how God wants me to. Maybe I’m too hard and inflexible. Maybe I’m too soft and impressionable. Or maybe I’m just a lump of spoiled clay, full of so many imperfections that I’m doomed to be tossed in the trash.

Not yet. God does not discard spoiled lumps of clay that easily. I am confident that God will continue to work on me and work with me, until I am the vessel God wants me to be. God will mold me and make me after his will, so that I may live out the way that has been prepared for me.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Visiting Home


For the first time in our lives, Lisa and I are tourists in a city in which we used to live. I'm sitting in the Corner Bakery in downtown Atlanta, enjoying a good cup of joe and wondering why we ever moved away from the "big city." Lisa's several blocks away at the National Association of Corrosion Engineers (NACE) Conference, where tomorrow she'll be presenting her graduate research on the corrosion of anchor bolts on bridges.

And I'm just along for the ride. Last night, we walked the streets a little, ate at an outside table at a restaurant by Georgia Tech, then hit up our favorite Atlanta spot: Cafe Intermezzo. It's a perfect European coffee bar and dessert house. If you ever visit Atlanta, don't miss it. I promise you, it'll be worth your time. We think about it almost weekly now that we are no longer living here.

It's an interesting feeling being back in the place you once lived. First, we notice things we never did when we lived here, like how much interesting architecture there is downtown. Second, we wish we still lived here, because we love the city atmosphere. Lisa spent Saturday afternoon in Piedmont Park (Atlanta's version of NYC's Central Park), and she observed that one of the great things about urban areas is that people are free to be themselves. There's no judgment in a city park -- just people living their lives the best way they know how.

Sure, we love the small town where we live, and we love traveling into Pittsburgh for the "city" atmosphere. But every once in awhile, like today, we miss city life. Of course, memories of places one loves tend to be seen through rose-colored glasses, so we'd probably get sick of the traffic, the lousy subway system that doesn't go anywhere, and the inability to see the stars at night. We'd probably hate the unbearable summers here, where it's still seven trillion degrees at 11 pm. But we do love Atlanta, and we loved our time here. And we're glad to soak in a few spring Atlanta days this week, remembering the city how we want to remember it -- without all the drawbacks.

Daily Lenten Devotion 3/23

“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?”

What’s a few fish sandwiches among thousands of people? A miracle, that’s what. It was a miracle because hungry people got nourishment. It was a miracle because there were more people than could be fed with the meager fare, yet everyone was willing to share. It was a miracle because Jesus inspired a few hours of communal living and sharing that made people think more about their neighbors than their own satisfaction.

What miracles can we perform today by being in community with others? What miracles can we be a part of simply by sharing the resources we have? What miracles are Jesus Christ calling you to join in today?

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/21

“God made the two great lights – the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night – and the stars.” – Gen. 1:16

As I was walking home from a meeting at the church last night, I looked up into the clear night sky to see hundreds of stars. It’s been several years since I’ve lived in an area where star-gazing is possible, so I’ve come to appreciate the presence of stars anytime there’s a clear night.

What I love about stars is how little they seem to us because of how far away from us they are. It reminds me that as big as we often think we are as humans, we too are just a small part of a vast universe which we are still just in the early stages of understanding. I am continually awed by the wideness of the universe, just as I am awed by the wideness of God’s mercy on “small things” like us.

This verse in the first creation account seems funny to me. The stars, which I love gazing at, sound like an afterthought. They are extra sprinkles on our ice cream, an extra sweater thrown into the suitcase, or a last minute invitation to someone on the “B” list of your wedding guest list. These wonderful things that I know hardly anything about, that seem so amazing to me, are merely an afterthought.

I am in awe today as I consider how little I am in comparison to the whole cosmos. I am in awe of something that seems so little and so insignificant, yet is still in many ways a mystery to us. I am in awe of God our creator, who makes brilliantly beautiful afterthoughts.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/19

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God – not the result of works, so that no one may boast.” – Ephesians 2:8-9

The idea that we are saved by grace through faith alone has come up a lot recently: in lectionary readings, in our theology of Methodism study, and in casual conversation. I’ve read, heard, and talked about it so much recently that is seems as though there’s nothing new to say. But for the sake of variety, let’s throw the words of the band Across the Sky into the conversation. Here are the lyrics of their song “Not So You Will Love Me,” which is a wonderful song about the Wesleyan idea of sanctification:

I wanna live in the moment,
Like there’s nothing that I lack,
I wanna give like there’s nothing to lose,
And no reason to look back.

Not so you will love me,
Not so you will love me,
Not so you will love me,
But because you do.

There’s no way to impress you,
There’s no grace I can earn.
Help me to see that my life is
A gift I can give in return.

Not so you will love me,
Not so you will love me,
Not so you will love me,
But because you do.

Because you do,
I don’t have to prove a thing,
Because you do,
I am free.

Where there’s suffering I will comfort,
Where there’s wandering I will guide,
Where there’s judgment I’ll show mercy,
And where there is darkness I’ll be light.

Not so you will love me,
Not so you will love me,
Not so you will love me,
But because you do.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/17

“Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God.” – John 3:19-21

Today is a perfect, warm, spring day. It’s almost 70 degrees here, warmer than a typical March day. On such a day, one often notices a wealth of outdoor activity. Instead of empty sidewalks and parked bicycles, lawns and streets are filled with walkers, joggers, bikers, playing children, and even some early spring gardening work.

I always love those first days of spring, when we collectively seem to shake off the chill and darkness of winter to finally enjoy the warmth of the spring sunshine. Living in Atlanta the last few years, I’d forgotten how drastic a change this can be.

This passage seems apropos for today, the first sunny day. It’s as if, in these words, Jesus is calling us out. Like bored children sitting in the darkness of winter, we see the light shining through our window. And then, we hear a knock on our door. “Can you come out and play?” Jesus asks. “C’mon, we’re all having fun out here in the light. Won’t you join us?”

Of course, we can choose to reject the call to “come out and play” in the light of Christ. We can continue living in the darkness of winter, refusing to believe that warmer days have finally arrived. Or, we can accept that call to play, to live, to laugh, to love with the rest of the children of the light.

So what do you say? Will you come out and play with Jesus? Will you feel the warmth of his light? Will you take a walk with him, play some wiffle ball, draw in sidewalk chalk with him? Will you live in the light?

Monday, March 16, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/16

“You will look for me, but you will not find me; and where I am, you cannot come.” – John 7:34

Like the Jews who heard Jesus speak these words, I wonder what Jesus means when he says this. I wonder why we won’t find Jesus, and why we can’t go where he is.

If we will not find Jesus when we look for him, then why are we constantly seeking him out? Why are we searching for Jesus? Why are we labeling curious potential Christians as “seekers”?

If we can’t go where Jesus is, how are we supposed to answer his call to “Come and see,” to follow him, or to “Come to the table”?

Last week, Lisa and I traveled to Columbus, Ohio to visit friends. Thursday night, we planned to meet up with our friend Nate for a hockey game. When we got to the arena, we called him. He was on the west side of the arena, but we were on the east side. So we agreed that we’d walk toward each other until we found each other. But somehow, we didn’t meet in the middle. We got all the way to the west side – where he started – without meeting up with him. We look for him, but we didn’t find him. He looked for us, but he didn’t find us.

After calling Nate again and discovering we had walked right by each other, we agreed to stay put while Nate came to find us. That way, we’d be sure to meet up without walking past one another.

If I hadn’t been so impatient to “find” Nate, we probably would have met up more easily. But I wanted to go find him. I wanted to be the seeker. It was more fun that way. Yet since we were both “seeking” each other, we walked past one another. Not until I gave up control and let Nate seek me did we finally meet up.

Are you looking for Jesus so much that you keep walking right by? Are you so caught up in your search that you’re moving too quickly past Jesus for him to recognize you? Or are you letting Jesus find you?

Sermon: Don't Be a Wise Guy (or Gal)!

Preached: Sunday, March 15, 2009
Scripture: 1 Corinthians 1:18-25

As Christians, our primary symbol is the cross. We have crosses on our altars, we have crosses around our church, we have cross-shaped windows, crosses in our denominational logos, crosses in our homes, crosses around our necks, cross bumper stickers, cross T-shirts, cross everything. I’ve seen cross-shaped cakes. I see people cross themselves. Did you know that you can even purchase underwear with a Christian cross on them?

Yes, the cross is our symbol. It’s our logo. It’s the marking of our brand. When people see crosses, they immediately think about Christianity. But for those who don’t know the story of the cross, it doesn’t always make sense. When the Spanish conquistadors came to what is now Mexico in the 16th and 17th centuries, they attempted to convert the Mayans to Christianity. The Spaniards gave crucifixes to the Mayans to teach them about Christianity. But they forgot the teaching part. So the Mayans misunderstood and thought that the crucifix was an example of the proper way to perform human sacrifices. So they began to change their methods of human sacrifice to fit the example of the crosses given to them. Then, when the Spaniards saw what they were doing, they considered the Mayans barbaric for crucifying people as a means of human sacrifice. Meanwhile, the Mayans were actually just doing what they thought the Spanish Christians wanted them to do. The symbol of the cross was misunderstood – a symbol of death was given, and yet it was supposed to signify life – unbeknownst to the Mayans.

For the first century Corinthians, the symbol of the cross didn’t make much sense either. For them, the cross was not yet adopted as a Christian symbol. They wore no cross around their necks, had no crosses displayed in their homes, they had no Christian book store to get the newest cross T-shirt, and you can bet that they weren’t wearing embroidered cross underwear!
For first century folks, the cross was still a symbol of sure criminality, of scandal, of lack of power, of weakness. So why would they want to adopt such a symbol, something that memorializes the weakest-looking moment of their faith? You see, at that time it would be silly to brag about the cross. To brag about the cross would be to brag about the day when the earthly authorities won. You mean to tell me you’re lifting up the death of your savior? You’re bragging about the fact that we snuffed out your Messiah? We killed him. He couldn’t even save himself from death; how powerful can he be? Your God must not be very powerful, because the Roman authorities had power over him. They exerted power over him and he didn’t fight back. Man, you’re Messiah is WEAK!

To put this in modern terms, to brag about the cross would be akin to telling a bully, “I’m more powerful than you because you just beat me up.” It would be like saying, “The Pittsburgh Pirates are a great team because they get their teeth kicked in on a regular basis.” Actually, it’d be even stranger than that. To brag about the power of the cross would make as much sense as a Detroit Lions fan coming to Pittsburgh and saying, “We’re more powerful than you because we went 0-16 and you won the Super Bowl.” It makes no sense! No sense at all!

Well, the cross doesn’t make sense either. It doesn’t make any human sense that we brag about our weakest moment. It doesn’t make sense because the phrase, “crucified Messiah” is as much of an oxymoron as there is. It’s the supreme paradox – an apparent contradiction – of our faith. The cross represents the paradox between the all-powerful God sending a Messiah to be completely powerless, hanging on a cross. It’s a paradox between Christ’s strongest moment being a moment of total weakness. It’s a paradox between the scandal of the crucifixion – reserved for only the worst, surely guilty criminals – and the fact that Jesus Christ was the only completely innocent human.

Richard Hays, professor of NT at Duke Divinity School, says “To proclaim a crucified Messiah is to talk nonsense. Crucifixion was a gruesome punishment administered to the Romans to ‘make an example’ out of rebels or disturbers of the peace.”

Thus, we proclaim a Messiah who proves innocence by being capitally punished like the guiltiest criminal. We proclaim a Messiah who shows his greatest power by hanging, dying on a cross. We proclaim a Messiah who shows strength through weakness, power through powerlessness, and innocence through symbols of guilt. And you’re trying to tell me that makes sense.
It doesn’t. It makes no logical human sense. Looking at the cross as the pivotal moment in the history of our faith makes no sense. Using the cross as the primary symbol of our faith makes no sense. Christianity is quite illogical when it comes to the cross and how we use it. We know it doesn’t make sense. But it happened. It was the pivotal moment in the history of our faith. And it was in this moment of greatest weakness, powerlessness, and apparent criminality that God shows His greatest strength, power, and innocence. And it makes no logical sense. It’s ridiculous.

And it caught everyone off guard. It caught the Jews off guard, because they were expecting the Messiah. But they were expecting God to show power in a normal way. They were expecting a Messiah with a white, flowing robe, riding a noble white horse, coming in glory and glamour and unthinkable displays of power, entering the world with all the pomp and circumstance of a king entering his court. But instead, God’s power is shown in ways completely contradictory to the human ways of doing things. God’s power is shown in a completely illogical way – making the Messiah look like a dirty, poor, beaten, suffering, dying criminal. It was a mess. And it made no sense, even to the disciples. Remember those guys? The ones telling Jesus, it can’t be that you should die! That makes no sense! They were the ones that Jesus kept asking, “Do you not understand? Don’t you get it?” all through the gospel of Mark.

Scripture is full of moments when God takes the human norm, the human expectations, the human ways of doing things, and turns everything upside down. A barren woman gives birth to all nations. A guy with a speech impediment leads slaves out of Egypt. David defeats Goliath. The first will be last. Tax collectors are suddenly people we’re supposed to eat with. Wisdom and wealth are suddenly not measures of success or faithfulness to God. Weapons are supposed to be beaten into farm equipment. And God’s power comes forth most strongly in a crucified Messiah – a paradoxical display of power in moment of total powerlessness. Yet again, human expectations are not fulfilled.

In today’s text, Paul writes to a church where already, despite being surprised by the way God’s power is shown – in the crucifixion – the Corinthians think they’ve finally figured it all out. Okay, this makes sense to us now. We are getting wise to God. But they differed in their wisdom – some were bragging about their wisdom, and others were claiming they were actually the wise ones. It’s two groups within the church at odds with each other about which opinion is the wise opinion – which opinion is the “right” opinion. And both sides are convinced they have God all figured out. Sound familiar? The Corinthians think they’ve finally figured out how God works in their lives and what the cross means. But Paul is like a first century Lee Corso from ESPN College Gameday: “Not so fast, my friends!”

No so fast, Corinthians. You think you’ve got God figured out? You think you’re wise to his workings? Have you not learned anything by reading scripture, or by hearing about the message of the cross? Do you remember a time when God acted exactly as humans expected God to act? Because I sure don’t. There’s a popular saying that goes, “Whenever we make plans, God laughs.” God laughs when we make plans because it’s funny that we think we’ve figured everything out. It’s funny that we somehow think that we’re wise enough to know how God will act in our lives. It’s silly. It’s ridiculous.

There’s a story of a man who lived in an area of flooding. As the waters began to creep towards his house, the residents were encouraged to evacuate. The man’s neighbor offered to drive him out of danger into safety. “That’s okay,” the man said, “God will save me.” The neighbor left.

The flood waters began to rise, to the point where the man had to retreat to the 2nd floor of his house. Then some people came to his 2nd story window in a boat, offering to rescue him. “That’s okay,” the man said, “God will save me.” And the people in the boat went away.

The flood waters rose some more, until the man was forced to sit on his roof, the only dry point left. As he was sitting on his roof, a helicopter came by and called down: “Tie this rope around you! We’ll save you!” But the man shouted back: “That’s okay, God will save me.” And he waved off the helicopter, and the helicopter went away.

The flood waters rose even more until the man died. He went up to heaven, where he met God. “God, why didn’t you save me?” he asked. And God told him, “Hey, I sent you a car, a boat, and a helicopter – what more do you want?”

You see, we not only ask for God to save us, but we expect that God will save us in a particular way. And we seldom stop to think about the possibility that we could be totally off base. But as I said earlier, the Bible is littered with the stories of people completely off base – people so wrong about how God would act in the world that they had no choice but to feel humbled – even humiliated and embarrassed – by their total lack of knowledge about how God works.
No matter how wise we are, we will never be anywhere close to understanding the mysteries of God. I’ve heard people say that the purpose of science is to try to unlock the mysteries of God. And I have no problem with that – there’s nothing wrong with trying to learn and discover more about how the world works; the world that God has created. In fact, what’s great about this definition is that it shows science will always be around. If science is about unlocking the mysteries of God, then scientists will never run out of things to do. We can live for millions more years here on this earth and still just see the tip of the iceberg of God’s mysteries.
You see, even the wisest of humans are completely foolish when it comes to God. The word translated as “foolishness” in this passage comes from the same Greek root as our modern word “moron.” Basically, Paul is saying that even the wisest people in the world are still morons compared to God.

Think about the cross for a moment, about the paradox of the cross. Why did God save us in this way? We know what happened: God offered us salvation from sin and death by Christ’s death on the cross. We know where it happened: in Golgotha. We know about when it happened: around 33 C.E. We know why God saves us: because “God so loved the world.” But why did it have to happen this way? Why is salvation offered this way? When it comes to why salvation is offered through the cross, we merely have competing theories. They’re called theories of atonement: theories as to why God saves us through the means of the cross rather than some other way. And that’s all we have – theories. When it comes down to it, we simply don’t know why God acts the way God acts. “So why the cross?” we ask. And the answer is, “God only knows.”

This passage in Corinthians is often misunderstood. It lends itself to being used to say that Christians are wise and non-Christians are foolish. But verse 18 says “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” Think about that for a moment. The message of the cross is foolishness – it makes no sense, it sounds like something a moron would say – to those who are perishing, those who don’t believe in the cross. But to those who are in the process of being saved, it is the power of God. Notice that Paul does not say believing in the cross is wise. He does not say it makes sense to us. For Christians and non-Christians alike, the cross makes absolutely no human sense. It is utterly ridiculous. But we are not interested in the wisdom of the cross, for the cross did not bring God’s wisdom to humans. On the contrary, the cross brought the power of God to humans.

We must not think we are wiser than those who do not believe in the cross, for as humans we are all very unwise when it comes to God. When we believe in the cross, we do not believe in the wisdom it contains, but the power it displays. For us, the cross is no more wise than it is to our brothers and sisters who do not share our belief. But for us, the cross is more powerful than it is to them. It contains the power of God that can save us, and can save anyone who believes that power is present in the cross.

We are about to sing a hymn that’s been around awhile, a hymn that’s rather popular: the Old Rugged Cross. We’re going to sing about the cross, the old rugged cross, the emblem of suffering and shame. And we love that old cross, where the dearest and best, for a world of lost sinners was slain. It’s a cross despised for the world, but has a wondrous attraction for us. For the lamb of God left his glory-filled world above to bear an old rugged cross to Calvary for me. It’s an old rugged cross stained with blood, but it’s a wondrous beauty we see. Even though on that cross, Jesus suffered and died, that act pardoned and sanctified us. So to that cross, we’ll ever be true, we’ll gladly bear the shame and reproach connected with that symbol. And someday we’ll be called by Jesus to our home far away and share in his glory. Until then, we’ll cherish this old, rugged cross – the emblem of suffering and shame, a cross despised for the world, an old rugged cross that was dragged to Calvary, an old rugged cross stained with blood, a cross of suffering and death. But we love that old cross, which has wondrous attraction for us. It’s a wondrous beauty we see, a moment of pardoning and sanctifying us. So we’ll gladly bear its shame and reproach, and we’ll ever be true to it. Folks, no hymn better shows the paradox of the cross. No hymn better shows that the message of the cross doesn’t make sense – why do we cherish the emblem of suffering and shame?

The cross is paradoxical because it is the most foolish symbol we could choose as Christians – almost as foolish as a God who loves us enough to make such a sacrifice. But we are fools – we are fools for the cross and fools for Christ. So let us accept that the cross doesn’t make sense in human terms, but that it makes complete sense to God. Let us accept the foolishness of the cross, and the power that is contained in such foolishness. And may we always be surprised by the ways God works in our lives, so that we are reminded how foolish we are when compared to Him. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/14

Note: I scheduled this post to go up while I was out of town yesterday, but for some reason it didn't automatically post. I apologize for the delay.

Last week, I bought an album called “Songs of Taize.” If you are unfamiliar with the Taize community and/or its worship style, you can read about it here. One of my favorite Taize songs is “Ubi Caritas”, which is #2179 in the United Methodist supplemental hymnal, The Faith We Sing. We sang it often at Ada First UMC, the church I attended in college. The Latin words, and the English translation, are as follows:

Ubi caritas et amor,
Ubi caritas Deus ibi est.

Live in charity and steadfast love,
Live in charity; God will dwell with you.


I’m struck by the call this hymn places on our lives: Live in charity. We are not called to think charitably. We are not called to act charitably. We are not called to work for a charity, volunteer for one, or even donate to one. We are not even called to live in a charitable way. We are called to live in charity.

Live in charity. What an interesting concept. What does that mean to you? What would it look like to actually live in charity? How would doing so lead to God dwelling with you?

Reflect on the questions this hymn provides, and allow them to guide your steps on this day and every day. Amen.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/13

“As it is written: ‘There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God.’” – Romans 3:10-11

Here Paul draws a lesson from Psalms 14 and 53: No one is righteous. Pretty depressing words, huh? Here we are thinking we’re doing a darn good job: we’re loving God with worship, prayer, sacraments, singing, and studying scripture, and we’re loving our neighbors by inviting them to worship, serving those in need, giving them a shoulder to lean on, laughing and playing with them. These scriptures must not be talking about us, then. It must be talking about all those terrible heathens who reject our invitation to come to church, those lazy bums who choose homelessness, those people “living in sin.”

Well, it is talking about those people. But it’s talking about us too, we the God-fearing, church-going, law-abiding Christians. In fact, the blanket of unrighteousness is spread across all of humanity – we’re all unrighteous. So we mustn’t think that we are righteous, because the Psalms and the letter to the Romans tells us otherwise.

Gee, thanks Paul. Thanks for putting me down, ignoring all the good things I’ve done. Now I have to accept myself as is – as a broken, unrighteous sinner of a man. What’s the use? Why should I even try to be righteous if I’ll never get there?

John Wesley was often mistaken as someone who believed in works righteousness, that is, that one could attain salvation through good deeds. But J-Dub believed in salvation by faith in the saving power of Jesus Christ, and faith alone. The misunderstanding comes from Wesley’s insistence that anyone with such faith would necessarily perform works of piety (loving God) and works of mercy (loving neighbors).

For those who have faith in Jesus Christ, these works are done out of the motivation that faith provides. So we do good deeds because we are saved, not so that we are saved. We are not righteous, no matter how many sermons we preach, how many hymns we have memorized, how much scripture we can quote, how much money we give away, or how many hours we’ve logged at the soup kitchen. We are decidedly un-righteous, and only Jesus Christ can change that. Pretty humbling, huh?

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/12

“You then, who teach others, do you not teach yourself? You who preach against stealing, do you steal? You who say that people should not commit adultery, do you commit adultery? You who abhor idols, do you rob temples? You who brag about the law, do you dishonor God by breaking the law?” – Romans 2:21-23

Even in first century Rome, hypocrisy among Christians seemed to be a problem. Why, two millennia later, have we not improved on this? Why do we still preach one thing and do another? Why do we present Christianity by way of “Do as I say, not as I do?”

It’s because we Christians want to have our cake and eat it too. We want to be in a right relationship with God, because clearly it is important to do so. Yet we also want to be in a right relationship with others, and there is a nagging desire to “fit in.” So we act just Christian enough to feel like we’re stepping out of our comfort zone, but we manage to leave one foot behind so that we aren’t labeled a “Jesus freak,” a “religious nut-job,” or a “member of a cult.” We take one step toward God, but only one step, so we can proclaim that we are approaching God while still “fitting in” with those around us.

In his book “The Irresistible Revolution”, Shane Claiborne speaks of his fear of becoming “cool.” He spoke at a high school once, and was introduced as “the coolest Christian ever,” or something of that sort. The first thing he did following that introduction was ask for a pair of scissors – and he promptly cut off all of his “cool” multi-colored dreadlocks. He then told the students he was afraid that he had become too cool. His goal was not to be cool, but to be faithful to God’s call on his life.

What if we stopped trying to be cool? What if we “practiced what we preach”? What if we “walked the walk” rather than just “talked the talk”? I realize these are over-used clichés, but that doesn’t mean we should not listen to what they tell us. If we are to truly witness to our faith, we must be willing to lift both feet off the ground, leaping into a relationship with God no matter where that lands us – even if we land in the territory of “un-cool.” Are we really practicing what we preach?

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/11

“At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. The day on which this took place was a Sabbath, and so the Jews said to the man who had been healed, ‘It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.’ But he replied, ‘The man who made me well said to me, “Pick up your mat and walk.”’ So, because Jesus was doing these things on the Sabbath, the Jews persecuted him.” – John 9-11, 16

I’m teaching a study on the Theology of John and Charles Wesley, and yesterday our conversation touched on the nature of sin. How do we define sin, and is sin the same at all times, in all places, for all people?

One person mentioned that playing cards on Sunday is an example of what used to be considered a sin, but is no longer widely considered as such. Yet this person still does not play cards on Sunday. His reasoning is not that “the law forbids you to play cards,” but that for him, Sunday needs to be a day set apart in some way. The Christian Sabbath, Sunday, the Lord’s Day, must be a day set apart for God.

The original intent of the Jewish law was to set up boundaries that would help people stay in close relationship with God. Yet over the years, the law had more or less turned into dead regulations for the sake of regulating – the original reason for them was lost.

Jesus is returning to the original meaning of the Sabbath: a day set apart to connect with God more deeply. And this lame man, who was accused of violating Sabbath laws, was actually observing the Sabbath better than the Jews who accused him. Once again, Jesus has taken earthly expectations and turned them on their head.

As we move through another day of this Lenten journey, are we remembering to “set apart” Lent? Are we remembering to “set apart” Sundays? Are we letting the laws of Scripture keep us in obedience to God for the purpose of drawing into deeper relationship with Her?

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/10

“The man took Jesus at his word and departed.” – John 4:43-52

When the royal official from Capernaum asked Jesus to heal his dying son, Jesus assured him that his son would live. His response was to take Jesus’ word for it and go home. Before he even returned home, he heard word that his son was still living – in fact, he was doing better!

I’ve always been enamored with that phrase, taking someone “at their word.” It implies that we find the person whose word we’re taking to be an honest person, someone we can trust. Why then, do we not always take Jesus at his word? Why is it so hard to do so?

Why do we need scientific evidence to verify Jesus word?

Why do we take Jesus beyond his word, transforming him into a Savior that is little more than a reflection of ourselves?

Why do we twist and distort the word which we are to take as is, in order to support our preconceived notions?

How can we be like the royal official today? How can we simply take Jesus “at his word”?

Monday, March 9, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/9

This morning, I did a funeral service for Joe Lander, known all around town simply as “Jaggers.” He was 90 years old, our congregation’s 3rd oldest member, and someone I visited regularly since coming to West Newton. At the outset of the service, the hymn “The Old Rugged Cross” was played.

As I stood in the funeral home listening to the Old Rugged Cross this morning, I tried to let the words envelop me. I hadn’t heard the hymn in awhile, and I find it rather appropriate both for the season of Lent and for a funeral service. I leave you with the wonderful poetry that the hymn provides. May the Holy Spirit move these words through your hearts as they moved through me earlier today.

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suffering and shame;
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.

Refrain:
So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till me trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it someday for a crown.

O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,
Has a wondrous attraction for me;
For the dear Lamb of God left his glory above
To bear it to dark calvary.
Refrain

In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,
A wondrous beauty I see,
For ‘twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,
To pardon and sanctify me.
Refrain

To that old rugged cross I will ever be true,
Its shame and reproach gladly bear;
Then he’ll call me someday to my home far away,
Where his glory forever I’ll share.
Refrain

Friday, March 6, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/6

"But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They will mount up with wings as eagles. They will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not faint." -- Isaiah 40:31

This verse was my favorite verse as a child. I always liked the imagery of us being eagles, and God lifting us up. I liked the idea of perseverance in the face of struggle. I was always one of the smallest guys around as a kid, so what I lacked in strength I had to make up for with my grit and endurance. I took hold of this verse as a rallying cry; nothing would ever keep me down.

Now, this verse takes on new meaning. As I mentioned in my last post, I've been having some pretty exhausting weeks lately -- long hours physically draining me, the work itself draining me emotionally. I feel like I have very little strength left. All I want to do is veg out for a week, or a day, or even an hour.

But, they that wait upon the Lord have renewed strength. God gives us strength when we have none left ourselves. This doesn't mean I don't need to rest at all. What it means is that God has given me strength by the movement of the Holy Spirit within me during these last couple days. At times when I thought I really would pass out if I had to walk, God renewed my strength. At times, I wanted to stop running because I was growing weary, but God renewed my strength.

We are merely human, and we can only do so much before crashing. But when we don't have time to crash, we know that God will renew our strength just enough to get us through to our Sabbath-keeping. Don't try to be a superhero. Let God renew your strength.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Balls and Strikes with Your Coffee?


This morning, I arose at 4:30 am to watch the opening game of the World Baseball Classic. the game was Japan-China live from the Tokyo Dome. It wasn't the marquee match-up we'll see in the later rounds of the WBC, but it was still baseball. If they showed live Japanese League baseball games on TV at 4:30 am every day here, I'm pretty sure I'd watch enough to make it worth their while.

At the outset of the 2nd WBC, I already love the event. Scratch that: I am in love with the WBC. 16 teams, 3 weeks. An international baseball tournament with nothing but national pride on the line. And I'm a sucker for any event with national pride on the line: Olympics, World Cup, Ryder Cup, and now the WBC.

But part of the reason I love the WBC so much is that every few years, it offers meaningful baseball a month before the season begins. And I need it sorely. It's been a rough month from the Super Bowl until now, where there's nothing but hockey and hoops. Don't get me wrong, I like hockey and hoops, but it's not enough to sustain me. I need baseball or football to watch if I'm to be truly happy.

All this may seem trivial to some. But as my seminary friend Lance once said, "Everyone's a dork in their own way." He was right -- he owns over 150 Star Wars books. Until I met him, I didn't know there were Star Wars books, let alone hundreds. In seminary alone, I met people with the following obsessions: Star Wars (Lance), Vera Bradley purses (Jill), zombies (Corey), dogs (Karney and Kat), Jacoby Ellsbury (Matt), UNC hoops (SPugh), and making babies (Chad and Melissa). And that's just a few.

Well, my obsession is sports, particularly baseball and football. When I watch a game of interest to me, I can escape into another world. My stress goes down, my endorphins are released from captivity. Simply put, it's healthy for me to watch sports.

That's why I'm watching the WBC. I've been putting in 45-50 hour weeks the last few weeks, losing my Fridays (my usual day off). That won't change anytime soon. I'm tired. I'm stressed. I'm desperately trying to keep up with all the Lenten responsibilities, long-range planning for summer, confirmation classes, new membership classes, bible studies, youth group, hospital visits, funerals, committee meetings, premarital counseling, and the always-looming Sunday morning service (sermon included).

I'm watching the WBC, even if it means sacrificing more sleep. Because in the end, I think it's actually healthier for me to lose sleep over the WBC than to lose sleep over all my pastoral opportunities (which was happening before the WBC).

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/5

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” – John 3:16

This verse of scripture is one of the most well-known verses today. It’s seen on signs at sporting events. It’s seen on church advertisements. There are John 3:16 bumper stickers. I’ve even seen John 3:16 written in graffiti.

I wonder if, due to widespread exposure, this verse has lost its luster. Perhaps we’ve become de-sensitized to John 3:16. Perhaps we know it so well, like we know the Lord’s Prayer, we’ve forgotten to pay attention to what it’s actually saying. Maybe, like the steroid stories in baseball, we’ve heard the same thing way too many times, and we’d rather turn our attention elsewhere. Whatever it is, it seems as though John 3:16 has “jumped the shark.”

I think it’s time we really think about why we so desperately want the whole world to know this verse. What message are we trying to send by proclaiming John 3:16?

“For God so loved the world…”
God loves the world and all that is in it. God loves each and every person, cow, goat, sparrow, orca, rock, tree, grass, speck of sand, cloud, drop of water…well, you get the point. God loves the world without condition; love is what God does and love is what God is.

“…that he gave…”
We worship a God who gives. Our God is so in love with us that God cannot help but give us all that we have. And we do have it all, don’t we? We have more than enough, if only we’d share.

“…his one and only son…”
Jesus Christ is a gift by God to humanity. Jesus Christ is a gift given in absolute love. It is greater than any gift we can imagine.

“…that whoever believes in him…”
The gift is free, but it is not cheap. It requires nothing, but it requires everything. It only requires that we accept it, but in accepting the gift we give the power of the gift complete reign over ourselves and our lives. And, it is given for all. It is not given just for those who already believe, but is given for anyone who has the capacity to believe. And that means it is a gift offered to all people.

“…shall not perish but have eternal life.”
This is not a promise of immortality. It is a promise of relationship. It is a promise of a never-ending relationship with our creator, one who has already reached out to us in unconditional love and can’t help but continue to love us despite the fact that we are all wretched souls in need of grace. We don’t deserve God’s love, yet it is freely given to us without the promise that we will accept it.

John 3:16 is what we as Christians believe. It is often misused as a weapon against “whoever does not believe in him.” My hope is that we not use God’s word as a battle cry, but use God’s word as an invitation to experience the love of God free of human pressure or interference.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/4

“See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.” – Hebrews 3:12-13

The Epistle to the Hebrews was addressed to Jewish converts to the faith who were considering returning to Judaism. They were caught between what they grew up believing (Judaism) and what they recently started believing (the Gospel). The author’s intent is to encourage them to stick with these new, strange, unfamiliar beliefs despite their doubts.

Whether we have always been followers of Christ, or whether we became followers of Christ an hour ago, we all doubt our beliefs from time to time. Occasionally, when life slows down enough for us to really think about what we believe, the questions begin in our minds. “Was Jesus Christ really born to a virgin mother?” “Is he actually fully human and fully divine? How is that possible?” “Did he actually, physically die?” “Did the resurrection really take place?” “Does he really still live and reign in me, in us?”

These are just a few of the questions that often leave me wondering if my Christian beliefs are no more than myth. I begin to doubt the validity of these claims which I preach. What is a pastor to do? What is a Christian to do?

The author of Hebrews has the answer: we are not to try to believe it all on our own. We need the help of others. We need to commune together for encouragement against the deceit of doubt and sin. We must pose that Wesleyan question that is to be asked of all our companions: How is it with your soul?

As Al Green would sing, “We all need somebody to lean on.” We cannot and must not go it alone, but must rely daily on the encouragement of others and let others rely on the encouragement we can give. Only then can we persevere through the questions and the doubts. Thank God for providing us with companions on our journey.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/3


“So [Jesus] made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area.”

How strange is the story of Jesus driving money changers out of the temple? How backwards does it seem for a religious leader to be kicking people out of church? How long would a minister today last in a church where his or her primary goal is to drive people out of the church building?

Almost daily, someone in our congregation asks me, “I wish we could get more people into the church.” And almost daily, I share their sentiment. But lately I’ve been wondering what it would look like if we thought in the opposite way. I wonder what it would look like if we spent all our time trying to figure out how to get more people “out of the church.”

What if we drove people out of the temple, out of the building in which we spend all our time as a “sanctuary” from the problems in our community? What if we wished for an empty building, because everyone has gone out to serve? What if we once again looked upon the world as our parish?

What if we are the money changers, and the whip is ready to crack on our back?

Monday, March 2, 2009

Daily Lenten Devotion for 3/2

“Jesus said to them, ‘Fill the jars with water.’ And they filled them up to the brim.” – John 2:7

No matter how uncomfortable it makes us as teetotaling Methodists, we cannot escape that the first of Jesus’ signs is the turning water into wine at a wedding feast at Cana. In essence, Jesus’ first miracle is to save a wedding reception from becoming lame.

I am not saying that alcohol is what makes a reception fun, and that the lack of alcohol makes a reception lame. I have been to receptions flowing with every type of booze, and they were lame, and I’ve been to receptions with no alcohol in sight that were a blast.

What I am saying is that this passage contains the truth that all party-throwers know: you have to make your guests want to be there. If you’re having your wedding reception at a ballpark, your guests better like sports. If you plan to have lots of kids there, you’ll want kids meals and fun activities for them. And if you’re throwing a wedding for a bunch of chocoholics, might I suggest this?

So for the sake of avoiding a moral argument about alcohol, let’s just pretend it was the chocolate fountain that ran out, and Jesus turned water into chocolate. Whatever the medium Jesus worked, the point is the wedding at Cana is going downhill, and fast. Jesus’ mother is worried (as mothers tend to be at weddings), but he seems pretty chill about the situation. Nevertheless, he bails out the groom and makes him look pretty good in front of all of his guests. And the weddings guests “party on!”

So the introduction of Jesus the miracle worker is a guy who wants us to keep on partying. The first of his many signs is that we are to live life to the fullest. He came that we may have life abundantly – Christ wants us to live, not just stand in the corner crying because the keg is tapped out. Jesus wants us to party on. At the beginning of his ministry, he sends a message. And that message is, as our resident bishop might say: “Lighten up. Loosen up. And have a little fun!”

Sunday, March 1, 2009

No Snow Day!!!

For one of the few times this winter, we had a Sunday morning sans snow today. While my Southern friends have canceled services or snowball warfare breaking out among congregants, we are celebrating our gorgeous 30 degree, bright and sunny Sunday. We are celebrating because snow = much lower attendance. Our church and many churches in the area have had horrible attendance numbers so far in 2009 because of all the snowy Sundays. When it snows on Sunday, elderly members stay home -- as they should. Plus, I get the feeling other people use the snow as an excuse to "take a Sunday off," as if we actually had snow days for church. We don't. Would you have a snow day for work? Unless you work at a school, you don't.

So enjoy your snow days, all you Southern comrades. I'll be thinking of you as I rejoice over our no snow day with a full church.