CLOSET CHARISMATIC

Love All

2011-12-19T12:39:00.002-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, December 18, 2011 at First UMC of West Newton

Scripture: Matthew 22:34-40

These past four weeks really have been a lot of fun. As a congregation, we’ve taken up the challenges of the Advent Conspiracy. We are worshiping fully, spending less, and giving more this Advent season in preparation for Christmas. The point of it all is to focus on how we can change the way we celebrate Christmas so that it can once again be the world-changing and life-changing event it originally was, when God broke into this world to restore our relationship with Him, as well as shine his light into the darkness of this world. We have been considering how we can change our own thoughts and actions, wondering how we can serve God and display God’s glory with all we say and do – not just this holiday season, but all year round.

But as I read the nativity stories, I just can’t get over one thing – the amazing, incredible, unconditional, abundant, passionate love that God has for us. More than anything else, the story of Christmas is a love story between God and his people. We see evidence of this in many places in scripture:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only son.”
“In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his son. So we have known and believe the love that God has for us.”
“Greetings, favored one,” the angel tells Mary. “The Lord is with you…you have found favor with God.” God loves Mary so much that God has chosen to dwell inside of her, for the sake of all people.
GOD IS LOVE.

Yes, God is love. And God loves us so much that he chose to give us this wonderful gift of presence through the Messiah. At its heart, Christmas is all about God giving us this amazing gift of love, the gift of Emmanuel, which means “God with us.”

And really, what greater gift is there? I would say that most of the time, the gift we wish for most is to be able to spend time with the ones we love. And so the greatest gift, especially these days with the busyness of life, is to be together, to give presence rather than presents. What’s more, God loves us so much that he doesn’t ask us to come to him. God loves us so much that God comes to where we are, dwells with us and in us, and restores the relationship not in some distant, removed way, but in the most intimate way possible. Emmanuel, God is with us.

In fact, I believe that one of the most appealing aspects of Christianity as opposed to other religions is that there is no other world religion I know of that has a more personal, intimate God. With other religions, there seems to be more intentional keeping of distance between God and people. But as Christians, we believe in a deeply personal, intimate God who loved us so much that he came here to be with us, through the incarnation which we celebrate next weekend.

That’s not to say there should be no distance at all between us and God. Sometimes God feels distant, and sometimes God is distant. That reminds us that God is far more powerful and amazing than we could ever imagine, and that our conception of God is woefully inadequate. Even so, there is a deep intimacy present in the Christian understanding of God that I have yet to find anywhere else.

Furthermore, the love that God has for us is so incredible, so amazing, so passionate, so intimate, that it compels a response. And when a person or being loves us, we typically respond in two ways: either with reciprocating love, or fear and trembling.

Yes, I believe the opposite of love is not hatred, but fear. In fact, our hatred for things and people usually comes from our fear – fear of what we don’t know about them, or fear that their displeasing aspects will only reveal the things we hate most about ourselves. We hate because we fear, and fear is the opposite of love.

God so loved the world that he broke into it in the person of Jesus. And the reaction by King Herod was fear. The word of a new king, a king of kings and a prince of peace, worried him. When Herod was told that a new king had been born, he wasn’t angry, as we may picture him. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t even arrogant. No, he was frightened. He was very fearful that his authority would be usurped, that the kingdom would no longer be his. God loved through the incarnation, and King Herod responded in fear.

In a much different way, I think the Advent and Christmas season often garners fear in us. We have small, trivial fears this time of year:
I’m afraid he won’t like the gift I give him
I fear the new recipe isn’t good enough.
I’m afraid grandma will get run over by a reindeer.
But, we also have more serious fears, things that keep us up at night and cast a dark shadow over our Christmas spirit:
I’m afraid I won’t be able to pay the credit card bills come January.
I fear that the family gathering will end in conflict and fighting.
I’m afraid to face this Christmas without a loved one for the first time
In Herod’s case, “I fear that I’ll lose my throne.”
Yet, the wonder of Christmas is that God loves us. And God comes to Mary with a message of love and favor rather than fear. Do not be afraid, Mary, for God is with you. God comes to the shepherds in the fields with a message of good news and great joy. So you see, shepherds? Do not be afraid!

Do not be afraid, dear children, shepherds, mothers. Do not be afraid, kings and rulers and wise men. Love is on its way, coming to dwell with us. This truth is proclaimed no more beautifully than by Charles Wesley in the first verse of one of my favorite hymns:

Love divine, all loves excelling,
Joy of heaven to earth come down,
Fix in us thy humble dwelling,
All thy faithful mercies crown.
Jesus, thou art all compassion,
Pure, unbounded love thou art;
Visit us with thy salvation,
Enter every trembling heart.

Our God is a God of incredible, passionate, intimate, amazing love. And in compels us to love in return, to invite this love into our hearts. When we do so, the two great commandments become the mission statement for all we say and do – to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves.

My mother-in-law has a decoration hanging in her front hallway. It is the outline of a heart, and inside the heart is the word JOY. Written out next to the word “joy” is three words: Jesus, Others, You. This simple, kitschy decoration reminds me, first of all, who we are to love, and second of all, the order in which that love should be prioritized. How often do we flip that order, first taking care of ourselves, and only then loving neighbors, and if we get around to it, loving God? Every time I am at my in-laws, I see that and remember the greatest commandment: Love God, love others, love self, and you will find joy.

And if you really think about it, that’s what the Advent Conspiracy is all about: love. We love God by worshiping him fully, not the things or ideologies of this world. We serve God rather than consumerism or other cultural messages or icons. And we love others when we become like God, practicing the gift of presence rather than presents, and when we consider what we can give God for Christmas as we give generously to those in need. Here in this congregation, we have loved both God and others this Advent season by baking cookies for our neighbors, by gathering for worship, by practicing alternative ways of celebration. And there are still other ways we will practice love: tonight, a wonderful combined choir will love by singing praise to God and sharing that good news with those who wish to hear it. Next weekend, we’ll love each other by exchanging gifts. And together, we’ll give to Living Water International, so that our Christmas gift to God and our brothers and sisters around the world will be life-giving water for all.

I’ve been saying all month that Christmas is world-changing, revolutionary, and scandalous – and it is very much so. But it is also, more than anything, the first chapter in the greatest love story ever told. It is the story of God loving all people so passionately and intimately that God came to be with us. It is a love that comes without price, without condition, without any qualification or requirement on our behalf. It is a love that displays the Wesleyan notion of prevenient grace – that this is love: not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his son. We are only able to love God because God first loved us.

I hope and pray that you will discover the depth of God’s love on display at Christmas. And I hope that rather than being afraid, you will respond in love of God and neighbor: loving all with every fiber of your being. Go therefore, and love all – love all you meet, in every way that you can, with all that you have. Love all because that’s what God does, and we are called to imitate God. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Give More

2011-12-12T11:27:00.009-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, December 11, 2011 at First UMC of West Newton
Scripture: Isaiah 64:1-4, 8-11

My father comes from a Dutch family. In fact, he was born in the Netherlands, and the majority of his relatives still live there. As such, there are ways in which my father loves to celebrate his Dutch heritage, and as a child he would share certain traditions with us.

One such tradition was that of Sinterklaas Day, also known as the feast of Saint Nicholas, on December 6. Sinterklaas is the patron saint of children, and originally a Greek Bishop of the 3rd and 4th centuries. As legend has it, Sinterklaas would travel around and put money in the shoes of poor children. It was an act of charity meant to take care of those who could not afford life’s basic necessities. This eventually evolved into leaving gifts in the children’s shoes, and is something Sinterklaas still reportedly does on the eve before his feast day.

And so, every year growing up, on Dec. 5 my sister and I would be instructed by my father to leave our shoes out on the front porch for Sinterklaas. You were also supposed to fill the shoes with hay for the horse Sinterklaas rode in on, but being suburban kids we didn’t quite have easy access to hay. So we’d fill our shoes with grass. The following morning, we would wake up and discover that Sinterklaas had come and left us a small gift – one that could fit inside a shoe, of course.

Sinterklaas, you might say, is the ancestor to Santa Claus. And like many traditions and cultural celebrations, Sinterklaas has evolved from being a tall, thin, charitable patron saint of children, to being a pudgy, red-cheeked glutton and provider of toys and amusement to those who already have everything. Do we need any more evidence that sometimes our traditions lose their true meaning as time goes on?

What’s interesting about the story of Sinterklaas, or Santa Claus in the USA, is that it has taken on the same fate as the celebration of Christmas. What used to be a tradition of giving to those in need has become a tradition of indulgence, consumerism, and debt as people spend more than they can afford in futile efforts to acquire the latest, greatest things – things that will likely be not so great by this time next year. Throw in just enough charitable giving to relieve us of our consumer guilt and to give us year-end tax breaks, and you have Christmas, 21st century style.

But Christmas is not about getting stuff. It's not about shopping malls, traffic jams, and overeating at holiday parties and family gatherings. That's something we've been reminding each other this month around First UMC, as we participate in the Advent Conspiracy. We’re considering how Christmas can once again be the world changing and life changing revolution it is meant to be, rather than just another reason for Hallmark to make greeting cards.

And this week, we ask ourselves, "Now that we have committed to worshiping fully, and now that we have cut back and committed to spending less, what might it look like if we celebrated Christmas by giving more? What if, instead of being roly poly Santa Clauses, we acted more like saints, giving hope, peace, joy, and love from our hearts?

After all, “Jesus is the reason for the season,” we say, but as I like to add, "Jesus is not the reason you’re at the mall.” Rather, the fundamental meaning of Christmas is that God has already given us a gift, and it is the greatest gift of all. Beginning with the birth of Jesus, God offers us a new covenant, a new life, a new relationship. And what do we do for people who have given us gifts in love? Usually, we give them gifts in return. But no one is harder to shop for at Christmas than God – what do you give the one who created and creates everything, the one who’s already got the whole world in His hands? What on earth could be on God’s wish list?

The answer, I believe, lies in chapter 61 of Isaiah. Here, the prophet might as well be reading God’s wish list. And if those words sound familiar, particularly the first two lines, it’s because this is the scripture Jesus read at the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth. In Luke chapter 4, Jesus stood up, and in his first public teaching as an adult, said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

And with these words, Jesus gives his mission statement. Jesus gives us all kinds of salvation, both individual and collective, both from sin and death as well as the evil powers and structures of this world. And in doing so, Jesus “displays God’s glory,” as the prophet Isaiah so eloquently states.

But these words in Isaiah are not only prophetic language of what God will do in the form of a Messiah, the savior to come. No, these words are also prophetic language about the people of God. Yes, God brings good news to the poor, the oppressed, the enslaved, the victimized, the grieving, and those with broken hearts. But additionally, God sends out his people to declare his good news as well. The people of God are here in Isaiah commissioned to bring good news, to liberate, to comfort, and to display the glory of God. Through God’s people, the glory of the Lord shall be revealed. And that is the best gift we could ever give God in return this Christmas: to display his glory.

At Christmas, God gives us a relationship, and in return we are called to give ourselves in relationship to God and others. First, we are called to spend this Advent season similar to the way we spend Lent in preparation for Easter. As we prepare for the coming Messiah, we seek to love God more deeply. And we also give more in our relationships with others.

The invitation to give more, in regards to Advent Conspiracy, is two-fold. First, it is an invitation to give relationally to friends and family. It means considering what is a better use of our time and money – spending an entire day at the mall, hunting for the perfect gift for our spouse, or spending the day enjoying being WITH our spouse? Which will have a more lasting impact on your relationship with your child – as well as your child’s development: spending all of Advent buying gifts for them, or spending all of Advent baking cookies, watching Christmas movies, and developing a closer relationship with them?

Second, the invitation to give more is a call to return to the Sinterklaas (or, St. Nicholas) way of giving gifts – to give not to those who have everything, but to give to those who have nothing. The amount of money it would take to address problems of poverty, disease, lack of clean water, and injustice in this world is miniscule in proportion to the amount of money we Americans spend on Christmas shopping every year. So this Advent and Christmas, as a congregation we are giving to Living Water International, and in doing so are giving the gift of clean water and improved health to people all around the world. Giving more, both relationally to friends and family as well as generously to those in need, is how we celebrate Christmas God’s way, and how we display God’s glory.

Last week, I talked about “spending less.” I mentioned the obvious: that in our culture, exchanging gifts around Christmas has gotten out of hand. Every year it’s bigger and better gifts, bigger and worse debt, and bigger and more useless piles of “stuff” that we never use. Black Friday brings out the worst in humanity. Malls and big box stores are not in the business of religion. And even though their signs proclaim it, the retailers cannot give you “real joy guaranteed.”

For many, gift giving has become more trouble than it’s worth. For these and other reasons, both my family and my wife Lisa’s family have cut back in gift giving in recent years. We’re practicing more alternative or charitable gift giving. But that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with giving and receiving gifts with others. Even though we’ve cut back and we now spend less, we are still spending money and we are still giving some gifts.

You see, it’s still okay to exchange gifts and be a Christian. Every holiday season, I spend considerable time shopping for people I care about. I admit, I put more thought into some gifts than others, but with all my gifts I think about the receiver. Who are they? What are their interests? Will they really use this? Will they appreciate it?

Gift giving offers us a chance to think about people around us. We smile just thinking about how much she’ll love it, or how his eyes will light up when he unwraps it. Or, when we struggle to find a good gift because we don’t know the person very well, we recognize the room for growth in a neglected relationship. Gift giving can be a meaningful way to reflect and express our love for each other as spouses, siblings, children, parents, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, co-workers, or friends. In fact, for some people gift giving is the most comfortable way to express love for another.

And we may practice alternative gift giving. I already know there are large families in which the adults only give gifts to the children, or do some variation of a secret santa gift exchange. I know there are others who make homemade gifts out of love. I know that’s how some people in this congregation celebrate Christmas and gift giving, because you’re a talented bunch. I know there are talented artists, sewers, musicians, writers, woodworkers, cooks and bakers in our congregation. You all have many talents you could use to make gifts of love for friends and family. And when you use your gifts and talents to make gifts or give gifts of love to others, you "display God's glory," because it is God who created you with those special talents and abilities. And those gifts express love greater than anything bought in a store.

I also know that Christmas is the celebration of Jesus’ birthday, not ours, and so the change in gift-giving must reach further than our own families and friends. What God wants for Christmas is the world to change. God wants us to use Christmas as an opportunity to transform this world. And so we return to that second invitation of giving more. Because we are committing to spending less and giving relationally on the home-front – giving our time and our talents rather than going into debt – we are now free to give more this Christmas to those who are truly in need.

So we thought we’d offer you a way to do that. Of course, we all have our favorite non-profits and charitable organizations we like to support, and that’s great. We want you to continue doing that – supporting the organizations you care deeply about. But we also want to give you an opportunity to learn about Living Water International, which is the primary charitable organization that Advent Conspiracy explicitly partners with. We have a video that will show you a little bit about the work that Living Water International does:

I believe that God is always challenging me to give more – not just during the Advent and Christmas season, but all the time, all year long. And you know, growing in terms of giving is a tremendous challenge. Do you know why? Because giving more means I get to keep less for myself. That's why I'm being called always to give more – God is using the call to give to mold me into someone less selfish, as someone who doesn’t think only of my own needs. Giving more is not a one-time call, but is an invitation into a life-time process. And it is the first step toward having the mind that was in Christ, who gave all he had, even his life, in a self-emptying way for our sake.

That’s the story of Christmas, folks. God had everything, and GAVE it all up for our sake. God GAVE up all power, authority, glory, and grandeur, entered our world in a smelly stable in a forgotten small town, through the faithfulness of a pregnant unwed teenager. God GAVE everything for us. So maybe, just maybe, as we celebrate the incarnation of God in Jesus Christ, we can strive to do the same. Give more this Christmas, and you’ll find that your life and this world will be transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit. God gave everything He had for the sake of others. Go and do likewise. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Browns to the west of me, Flyers to the east...

2011-12-08T17:50:00.000-05:00

Pens vs. Flyers at 7 pm. Steelers vs. Browns at 8:20 pm. What a night in Pittsburgh sports. Here are my alternate lyrics to the classic song above:

Well I know what I’ll be watching tonight,

Both these rivalries just feel so right,

Don’t be scared, we are the black and the gold,

The opponents’ gonna get knocked out cold,

Browns to the west of me, Flyers to the east

Here we go, we are Steel City: Woohoo!

Yes, we are Steel City: Woohoo!

And the Browns don’t have a clue what to do,

Yeah this game should put a smile on my face,

The defense will give Colt McCoy chase,

Browns to the west of me, Flyers to the east

Here we go, we are Steel City: Woohoo!

Well we’ll start it out by running,

And be proud of Coach Mike Tomlin.

And the towels they will be waving,

Waving in the air chanting,

Hines…Hines…

Trying to make some sense of it all,

Cause I see the Flyers standing up tall,

Jaromir Jagr goes to sleep on the floor,

Arron Asham can do that for us I’m sure.

Browns to the west of me, Flyers to the east

Let’s go Pens, we are Steel City: Woohoo!

Well they started out with nothing,

Then they got Talbot and Jagr man,

And the Pens they will go skating,

Check them in the backs, they’ll say,

Please don’t do that…Please don’t do that…

Well I know what I’ll be watching tonight,

Both these rivalries just feel so right,

Don’t be scared, we are the black and the gold,

The opponents’ gonna get knocked out cold,

Browns to the west of me, Flyers to the east

Here we go, we are Steel City: Woohoo!

Spend Less

2011-12-07T11:38:00.000-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, Dec. 4, 2011 at First UMC of West Newton

Second Sunday in Advent

Scriptures: Matthew 6:19-21, 24-33; Ecclesiastes 2:1-11

This year during Advent, we are participating in the Advent Conspiracy. The Advent Conspiracy is a movement of hundreds of churches – across the world, but primarily in the United States – that seeks the true meaning of Christmas. And that is that Christmas is not about giving or receiving gifts. It’s not about hosting the best holiday party. It’s not simply a way to end the year in a good mood, although it may have that effect. No, Christmas is more than what our culture has turned it into, and as Christians we are called to celebrate Christmas as it was originally intended: as a world changing, transformative event. Christmas is the scandalous, revolutionary, life-changing and world-changing event of God and God’s kingdom breaking into this world.

Through the Advent Conspiracy, we are trying to rediscover this true message of Christmas. Last Sunday, I shared how we may conspire to worship fully – that Christmas is about peaceful moments of rest, as well as revolutionary movements of protest, and both these moments and movements can be forms of worship. Today, we’re going to talk about how together, we might conspire to SPEND LESS this Christmas. By spending less, we can then free ourselves from the burden and obligation of spending so much on Christmas and gifts, and we are freed to give more, worship fully, and love all.

Spending less is important to the Advent Conspiracy, because it is a concrete, counter-cultural action we can take in this season of shopping, sales, and general shopping mall-induced stress and traffic jams. The conspiracy of spending less begins with cutting back on gift giving.

Before you get the wrong idea, this is not a call to eliminate gift-giving completely. I do think it’s monumentally important that we admit gift-giving and receiving is not the point of this season. Christmas is not about getting what you’ve always wanted, nor is it about giving your children everything they’ve always wanted. Christmas is not YOUR birthday, after all. The retail side of Christmas is out of hand and a tragic sign of where our culture’s priorities lie. But the fact is, there’s not necessarily anything wrong with giving and receiving gifts with others, if it’s done out of love for each other and not love of stuff.

However, what we are doing this Advent is asking ourselves if we really need to spend as much on gifts as we do. We are asking if all the gifts we give are really necessary to show someone we care about them. And the call to spend less is not to cut out gift giving completely, but to evaluate our spending and consider cutting back.

Think about this: Americans spend $450 BILLION a year on gifts. Every year. That’s a lot of money. And yet, it has been estimated that just $20 billion per year could solve the world water crisis. That’s less than 5% of our Christmas spending. If we just cut back 5% on our Christmas spending as a nation and gave it away, we could solve the world’s water problems. That’s a big deal, because tens of millions of people each day do not have access to clean, safe drinking water. Without clean, safe drinking water, these people are at significantly increased risk of illness and disease, and the infant mortality rates are sky-high. So, Advent Conspiracy asks that we think about giving one less gift for Christmas, or maybe 5% less than in previous years, and then give away the money we save to Living Water International – or some other organization.

There are many ways to spend less. You can simply buy less, or you can practice alternative gift-giving. You can “tithe” a percentage of your gift budget.

Spending less frees us to give more – to give in new ways, to give with more love and to give relationally. After all, God gave a relationship at Christmas, and it was the best gift we could ever receive. Next week, we’ll talk further about GIVING MORE – one of the things that spending less frees us to do.

The Gospel lesson this morning is not particularly an Advent or Christmas text, but I do find it to be extraordinarily relevant to this season, in the face of retail mayhem. It is a season of worrying and fretting and anxiety. It is a season where we tend to serve wealth and the “things” of this world rather than serving God.

It is very easy to serve the retail gods around Christmas. This is what we are so tempted to do, is serve and worship the retail season of Christmas. It is a religion unto itself – marked by holy days of Black Friday and Cyber Monday, celebrated with the weekly rituals of Saturday traffic jams, requiring the sacrifice of our financial well-being, and proclaiming the fulfillment of promise and hope for our families.

I wish that the passion people display in the wee hours of the morning on Black Friday, lining up and creating riot-like atmospheres just for the best deals on flat-screens, would pale in comparison to the passion people have for God breaking into this world. It’s a stark reminder that everyone seeks fulfillment of some type of promise this season, and we are all in service to someone or something during the holiday season.

So what are you seeking this Advent with all your heart? Where is your mind? What are you dedicating your time and money to? If someone were to look at your life this December, who would they say you are serving, God or wealth?

Let me tell you – I have found myself serving wealth at times. And I echo the sentiments of the writer of Ecclesiastes: all of it is vanity and chasing after the wind. For the things on this earth are temporal, but God’s kingdom is forever. I hate to break it to you, but even diamonds are not forever in the way that God’s kingdom is.

This morning, we baptized a young child. And when I think about the world this child will grow up in, I hope that the world will be better in the future for him than it is for us today. I think that’s the hope for all our children and grandchildren, all the generations that will follow us. I have hope that many things will be better for him than for us – I pray that he will live in a more tolerant nation than we see today. I pray that the world will be more peaceful than it is now. I pray that the harmful things we’re doing now that we don’t know are harmful – he’ll be warned of them. After all, we younger generations were warned of the harmful effects of smoking, a habit that many people of previous generations did for years without realizing how harmful it was.

And I hope in another way. I really do think it’s possible that Christmas can eventually be not about the stores making profits, but can be about the world being transformed into God’s kingdom. I hope that one day, we’ll tell our children and grandchildren about how people pushed and shoved each other to get a good deal on a TV. We’ll tell them that Saturdays in December were just one big traffic jam, and people spent entire weekends at the mall and it still wasn’t enough to complete all their shopping. We’ll tell these younger generations about the amount of money we spent as a country on a holiday celebrating the birth of a Savior, and our children and grandchildren will look at us in disbelief – there’s no way people were that materialistic and selfish, they’ll say. Didn’t they know that Christmas is a time to participate in God’s work in the world, a time defined by giving from our abundance to those in need, a time to make a positive change in the world? Why did they celebrate selfishly rather than charitably?

And we’ll say, yes, people gave to charity back then, but only to assuage their guilt for spending so much on crap they didn’t need. You see kids, Christmas had lost its nature of being a world-changing event, and had simply become a way of acting out our greed in the worst way. But eventually, the church stood up and created a revolution. The Christians of this nation – just as they had with women’s rights and the abuse of alcohol and with racism and with gambling – they stood up and said, “Enough!” And they committed to spend less, to give more, to worship fully, to love all. They led a revolution that changed Christmas back from the retail holiday it was to the true Holy Day that it was always meant to be.

That’s my hope – that we can tell future generations how bad it used to be, how parents wrestled each other for tickle-me-Elmo dolls. And then, we’ll remember what it was that finally changed things – the Holy Spirit moving through a committed group of individuals, the world changing because people began serving the Messiah rather than wealth. Don’t you want to be a part of that story? Don’t you want to be a part of the revolution, the one where God can transform how we think about Christ’s birth?

Spend less this Christmas. In doing so, you’ll discover that it frees you to:

Worship fully – serve and love God, prepare the way of the LORD, more time to worship with family
Give more – give your time, give relationally, give charitably (join us next week and we’ll talk more about this)
Love all – Christmas is a time of love – of God’s love coming into our world, of how we may return that love by worshiping God and giving to those in need, and that true love is not defined by the price tag on our gifts.

One final note: spending less has special significance in this season of the year, because the holidays are a time marked by indulgence, over-spending, and perhaps even the accumulation of unmanageable debt. But this is only when we are at our worst. These kinds of consumerist, retail-worshiping actions are practiced by us all year round. So the call to spend less may begin this holiday season, but it is meant to continue all year long.

May it be so. May we spend less, and in doing so, discover anew how we may serve God and God's kingdom rather than the kingdoms of this world. And may it free us, in turn, to give more this Christmas and all year long. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Worship Fully

2011-11-28T10:02:00.000-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, Nov. 27, 2011 at First UMC of West newton
First Sunday in Advent
Scripture: Luke 1:39-55

This year, First United Methodist Church is conspiring during Advent. That means we're planning and plotting together to make a noticeable difference in this world. After all, that is our call as Christians - to be disciples who transform this world in the name of Jesus Christ.

We will do so by joining with countless other churches in the Advent Conspiracy. The Advent Conspiracy is a different approach to preparing for Christ’s birth. There are four themes to the Advent Conspiracy, and we'll focus on one each Sunday in Advent. These themes and practices are: worship fully, spend less, give more, and love all. But in fact, these are not mutually exclusive actions. Each one affects the other. Spending less frees us to give more, love all, and worship fully. Loving all motivates us to spend less, give more, and worship fully. And spending less, giving more, and loving all is a wonderful description of how to fully worship God.

And that is our topic today: what does it mean to worship fully, and how can we conspire to do so, not just during the holiday season, but every day of the year?

The word worship comes from the Old English word "weorthscipe", which means giving praise or honor or worth to someone or something. Worship is proclaiming, in words and action, belief that someone or something is valued more than anything else in our life. By that definition, we all worship fully already. But it may not always be God who we're worshiping. We fully worship a number of things. At any given moment, we could probably be found worshiping popularity, our career, our comfortable way of life, a celebrity or athlete or sports team or band. I'm sure most of us could easily recognize when we've placed ultimate value and worth in these things rather than God.

Sometimes less easy to recognize is when we worship things that are good, but not ultimately where we should direct our worship. At times, we may find ourselves guilty of worshiping the Bible, or morality, an ideology, or even a good Christian leader. We might also worship the Church or our church, or we may worship our family and friends, placing one of these things in the position of primary importance in our lives. Again, if we're honest with ourselves, we are all probably guilty of taking these good, valuable things, and putting them above God in the time and attention and devotion we give to them, of worshiping them rather than the God who created them.

A little over a week ago, Lisa and I were in downtown Pittsburgh for the annual light-up night. One of the first things we went to see was the Pittsburgh Crèche (Nativity), on display every year at the Steel Building. Only this year, the setting was a bit different than any other year. Across the street from the crèche, in Mellon Green, is the Occupy Pittsburgh movement. So, as we approached, we encountered these hearty protesters seizing the opportunity of large, passing crowds to loudly proclaim their case against Wall Street, corporations, capitalism, greed, and whatever else the Occupy movement seems to be fighting against. They were passionate, if not articulate.

As I walked past and quickly scanned the scene of this makeshift tent city, I thought about their passion. Here are people who have dedicated themselves to live in a downtown park, for as long as it takes, for a purpose. Here are people so wrapped up in a movement that they have given their lives to the movement. Now, we won't go into the validity or merit of the Occupy Wall Street movement - that discussion is for another time and place. But the point here is, I saw people worshiping fully - they were fully worshiping, fully dedicating themselves, to participate in a movement seeking change the world.

Of course, the same passion can be seen by activists on the other side of the ideological spectrum: the Tea Party movement is full of worshipers, dedicating all of themselves to a cause that they too proclaim as a form of justice. They too are incredibly passionate, if not articulate. But again, this is neither the time nor the place to justify or dismiss the Tea Party movement - I'll leave that for political pundits and cable news talking heads and voters on election day.

In fact, all I will say now is, if you do feel called to join a movement such as the Tea Party or Occupy Wall Street or whatever else comes our way in the future, that may be fine, but if you proceed, do so with caution. Those two movements and many like them are politically or socially motivated, man-made ideologies that will never satisfy your spiritual hunger and will never provide hope in the way that only Christ can provide. I believe there is only one movement worth sacrificing everything for and dedicating your life to, and that movement is the work of God through Jesus Christ, empowered by the Holy Spirit.

But as I walked by the Occupy Pittsburgh camp last week, I couldn't help but wonder when the last time was that I heard of or saw Christians so taken by the movement of the Holy Spirit that they left all they had to literally set up camp downtown. I don't often see that from Christians. Nor do I often enough see Christians organize rallies like the Tea Party to support the cause for God's justice - justice over slavery, poverty, disease, war, and famine. But just last week, in the midst of the kickoff of the downtown holiday shopping season, the most consumer-driven time of the year, Occupy Pittsburgh rang out in that moment as a counter cultural prophecy to our infatuation with the American capitalist Christmas.

On the opposite side of Sixth Street, where the crèche is, I saw an entirely different form of worship. There was no shouting, and in fact very little talking at all. Sure, some people treated the crèche as little more than a tourist attraction, eager to take and post a picture on Facebook with their phones to prove they were there. But even those people sensed the need to do so reverently. And by and large, the crowd stood silently, just taking in the beauty of it all, in a moment of reflection and meditation. Nearby was a choir singing so angelically: "Silent night…holy night…" And it was there, in the chaos and confusion of the light-up night crowd of half a million people, all was calm, and all was bright. The creche and its impromptu congregation stood as an oasis of peace that nourished the soul in soothing, restful ways.

And the road that ran between the crèche and the Occupy camp was Sixth Street. I believe worship of God can look like both sides of this street. Sometimes, worship is a soothing, peaceful moment of rest in an otherwise chaotic and out of control world. It can be a way to draw us safely into God's presence, where we may turn our eyes upon Jesus and nothing in this world can threaten to distract us. But other times, worship of God might look more like the Occupy movement: prophetically preaching on a street corner against the ways and systems of this world, standing up for what we think is fair and just, proclaiming the movement we're a part of - not only with our words, but with our whole being.

Worship can be the serenity of a Christmas Eve candlelight service, but worship can also be taking social or political action against poverty in your own neighborhood. Worship can be a moment of devotion to start our day, or the delivering of bed nets to sub-Saharan Africa. Worship can be defined as fully resting in a moment of peace and tranquility, or it can be fully dedicating oneself to a movement that glorifies God. Worship is any action that gives praise and honor to God, and asserts that God is valued more in our lives than anything else.

A life of worshiping fully is both a peaceful moment of rest and a passionate movement of unrest. Peaceful moments of rest, on their own, so shelter us from the world that we forget that Christ was seldom found in church because he was busy befriending the people in the street. But passionate movements of unrest are dangerous without that Silent Night chorus - they become a clanging gong or clashing cymbal that is not rooted in Christ's love for us.

To worship fully is to give ultimate value to the God who comes at Christmas, and to do so in peaceful moments and full dedication to the movements of the Holy Spirit in this world. To live a life of worship requires tremendous discipline and self reflection. It requires that at every turn, in every moment, with every decision, we should ask ourselves, “Is what I’m about to do or say giving praise and honor and glory to God, or is it giving praise to someone or something of this world?”

Even further, to worship fully requires the gathering together of the community of faith.

I often wonder why Mary, the mother of Jesus, made a trip to visit Elizabeth. And I wonder, had she not, would we still have the Magnificat, Mary's praise song in Luke 1:47-55? Sometimes I think, had it not been for Elizabeth, Mary would not have sung this song of praise to God. And had it not been for Mary, Elizabeth may not have believed in the prophecy growing in her own womb. Both their conversation and Mary's song had elements of peaceful rest and passionate participation in the movement of God’s kingdom breaking into this world.

Mary praised God in song - and I imagine that scene was as peacefully simple as soaking up a manger scene while listening to a choir sing a carol. The Magnificat is symbolic of Mary's peaceful moment of rest and acceptance of the divine call placed on her life. I believe her visit with Elizabeth is what moved Mary to be at peace with carrying the Christ child. Before Elizabeth, Mary's tone seems to be that of tentative assent. But after Elizabeth's words of blessing, Mary has moved to a posture of joyful acceptance of the blessing growing inside of her.

But as Mary's song continues, it also contains elements of prophetic hope and promise for a new generation. The coming of God in Christ signifies that God's kingdom is breaking into this world in a new way. And the hope and promise of that action is the lifting up of the lowly, the tearing down of the powerful people and systems of this world, the liberation of those held captive, the feeding of the hungry, and the continued fulfillment of the covenant made with Abraham. All of these hopeful promises are found in the few short lines of Mary’s song.

Simply put, Christmas is not just about warm, fuzzy feelings as we sip hot chocolate and listen to heavenly carols. Christmas is not about making us feel good. This holiday is fundamentally about God's kingdom breaking into our world to reform, renew, and transform. It is about God loving us enough to come into our lives and world in a new way, to give hope to those who need it and a new perspective of humility for those in power.

Our annual celebration of this event is a reminder that this movement of God’s in-breaking kingdom is still going on, 2000+ years later. And in particular, God is calling out to us from a street corner to get on board with the ways God is living and acting in this world.

Particularly this Advent, God is calling us to conspire. Part of the goal of Advent Conspiracy is to get us thinking differently about Christmas; to get us thinking about it as it originally was: a world-changing event, a time to give glory to God rather than each other.

So, I won’t go into it too much today, but one of the things we’ll be doing as a congregation is spending less on gifts for ourselves and each other, so we can be free to provide clean drinking water to those who have no access to it all around the world. We’ll do this through an organization called Living Water International, and they created a brief video that I want you to see:

If you couldn’t tell, that was taken underneath the running faucet of a new well drilled by Living Water International, so that people who didn’t have clean, safe drinking water now experience the joy of having it. I don’t know about you, but just watching that reminds me of how often I take clean water for granted. It has moved me into a posture of worshiping God with praise and thanksgiving every time I turn on a faucet to take a shower, wash my hands, or simply pour a glass of drinking water. We use water all the time, yet how often do we fully worship the God who provides it? And how often do we think of the millions of people who are unable to receive this great gift of life?

If you read Mary’s song closely, you’ll notice that she sees the coming Christ child not just as a peaceful, silent night, but also as a revolution on the way, a movement with great passion and energy. This too, I believe, was something Mary recognized only after visiting with Elizabeth. And that is why it's important for us to gather for worship with others - so we may help each other discern how God is living and moving in this world, and that we may encourage each other as we join this revolutionary movement, one that, when complete, will turn the whole world upside down.

This season, and all year round, I hope you find ways to move yourselves toward worshiping fully. I hope that, in living a life of worship, you can find peaceful moments of rest as well as passionate movements of unrest. I hope you'll journey down Sixth Street with your Christian brothers and sisters, finding a crèche on your left - perhaps Christmas Eve worship or a restful moment with family, wonderfully worshipful things. But I also hope you’ll find the revolution on your right – the reality of God’s kingdom breaking into this world or the conspiracy of giving clean water to others as your gift to God this Christmas. And I hope that, if you're tempted to spend all your time on one side of the street, you'll at least spend some time on the other side as well.

Yes, Christmas can be peaceful and angelic and heavenly. It is a moment of respite from the busy, chaotic confusion that often defines our world. Yet, Christmas is not ultimately about escaping this world. It is about God entering it with great promise and hope. Christmas is a reminder that God is living and active all around us, and is in the process of making all things new, of lifting up the lowly and tearing down the powerful, of leading a movement that calls us to take part.

This Christmas, find both God's moment and God's movement in this world. Fully immerse yourself in both that moment and that movement, and you will, like Mary, discover how Christmas truly can transform both your heart and this world. Will you conspire with me to worship fully, in both the moment and in the movement of Christmas? In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Advent Conspiracy

2011-11-28T09:56:00.000-05:00

Every year in the weeks leading up to Christmas, culture encourages us to buy more and more. This year, at the First United Methodist Church of West Newton, we’ve decided to join a conspiracy. We’ve decided to join the Advent Conspiracy. Advent Conspiracy is a movement which reminds us that Christmas isn’t about spending more and having more gifts; it’s about the preparation for the birth of Christ, the greatest gift of all. According to the Advent Conspiracy, Christmas is about “spending less on gifts and more on relationships.” Advent Conspiracy gives us a chance to define our preparation for Christmas by worshipping fully, spending less, giving more and loving all. We’ll be exploring these four ideas each Sunday during Advent. Join us each Sunday at 9 a.m. and 11 a.m. and see how thinking differently about Christmas can make it not so stressful and much more meaningful. If you cannot join us, you will find the text of the sermons here on the following Monday or Tuesday.

The above video explains the Advent Conspiracy movement, and you can read more on the Advent Conspiracy website.

Extreme Makeover: Sanctuary Edition

2011-10-09T15:07:00.000-04:00

I love our church's sanctuary. It's beautiful. The only problem is, it's very large, and our congregation is very small. So, this past week, Lisa and I made some changes. Before and after pictures are below.

We turned the sanctuary into 4 separate spaces with the help of homemade room dividers: sanctuary, gathering space, Sunday School room, and storage. The sanctuary is now half the size. A storage space has been added for the removed pews.

A gathering space has been added, and will be used primarily for fellowship. Our fellowship hall is divided into cubicles on Sunday for Sunday School, as our building has no classrooms, so this gives us a space intended to cultivate relationships with each other before and after worship.

A Sunday School room was added to solve the problem we had with a Sunday School class meeting in the sanctuary. People arriving for worship felt they were disrupting the class, and vice versa. So, this solves that.

We unveiled the new changes with a special congregational meeting between worship services this morning.

Bandwagon Application: Arizona Diamondbacks

2011-09-29T09:40:00.000-04:00

Dear Arizona Diamondbacks,

Congratulations on your National League West Division Championship! I wish you the best of luck in the playoffs.

I am so impressed with your accomplishments that I am requesting a seat on your bandwagon. I hope I am not too late in writing this, and that you still have room for a pastor from Pittsburgh who spends days and nights praying for the hopeless cause of the Pirates. If there is still room, will you have me?

Attached is a resume detailing my qualifications for joining the Diamondbacks bandwagon. If accepted, I promise to ride your bandwagon at least through the National League playoffs, and perhaps the World Series, depending on which team emerges from the American League.

Thank you in advance for considering me for any openings, and I look forward to the opportunity to sit on your bandwagon for many, many days – perhaps even 2-3 weeks.

Encl: Resume for Erik Hoeke

Erik A. Hoeke

Qualifications

Fan of National League Baseball
Hatred of the Milwaukee Brewers, specifically Cryin’ Ryan Braun, and Prince Fielder, the world’s largest vegetarian since the brontosaurus
Disdain for St. Louis Cardinals
Desire to see Phillies collapse despite a massive payroll and sense of entitlement

Education

Dedicated viewer of Major League Baseball
Avid reader of Sports Illustrated
Frequent visitor to baseballreference.com, baseballprospectus.com, and mlbtraderumors.com

Experience

Tampa Bay Rays bandwagon jumper, October 2008 to present
Boston Red Sox bandwagon jumper, October 2004 to when BoSox fans started getting annoying.
Arizona Diamondbacks bandwagon jumper, October 2001

Awards and Honors

Chair, Hospitality Committee of Pittsburgh Pirates bandwagon, June-July 2011
Gold Member, Bandwagon Jumpers of North America, 1983-present

Interests: Kirk Gibson, Daniel Hudson, Justin Upton, seeing overpaid teams lose, swimming pools behind the RF wall.

Too Much Doubt

2011-09-22T10:25:00.000-04:00

This afternoon, I’ll be leading a memorial service for an 84 year old woman from Louisiana. Her family has returned to bury her here in West Newton, and they have invited me, in this time of grief and mourning, to be a pastor for them.

Over the next week, there will be one or more memorial services of another sort, because a child of God was killed late last night. The story of Troy Davis, which has achieved national attention only this week, has come to an end.

Today, I lament the loss of life, innocent or guilty. I am perplexed that in a self-proclaimed “Christian nation,” the death penalty is still alive and well. I weep for Troy Davis, who died despite a great deal of doubt about what actually happened one night in 1989.

My heart aches for his family and friends, as the last 2 decades have surely been a more difficult journey than I can imagine. My heart also aches for the family and friends of Mark MacPhail, who have also been on a long, difficult journey over these years. Some of them expected “closure” with this act of retribution, and I pray that they may find closure – not in the death of another, but in the healing that comes only from above.

I’ll admit that I probably could have done more. Aside from signing a petition and praying, I did not do anything to prevent this from happening. Meanwhile, many of my friends from seminary played significant roles in the rallies and movements to save Troy’s life. Their efforts were instrumental in the delay of his execution by the halting of three prior execution dates over the last three years. I thank God this day for their Christian witness and their efforts for justice rather than revenge. I have been encouraged by how much the body of Christ rallied to save a life, even though death was eventually the result. I am proud of you, Candlerites and other supporters.

I wish this story had received national attention sooner. Perhaps then a death could have been avoided. I would still be planning a funeral for today, but Troy Davis’ family would not be. But I am hopeful that this may again bring the death penalty debate to the forefront of American discourse. Some have already suggested that the public nature of this case may soon change the tide on this archaic form of punishment. If we do begin talking about the death penalty again, I pray that our discourse will follow the lead of the protests last night: passionate, non-violent, civil, and prayerful.

This afternoon, I will pray in a cemetery the following prayer. And then I will return home and pray the same for the soul of Troy Davis. Lord, have mercy upon all of us.

Gracious God, we thank you for those we love but see no more. Receive into your arms your servant, and grant that increasing in knowledge and love of you, he/she may go from strength to strength in service to your heavenly kingdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Chautauqua Reflection V: Charter For Compassion

2011-08-31T11:57:00.000-04:00

While at Chautauqua last month, I met with religion author Karen Armstrong. Much of our discussion was on her "Charter for Compassion," which was her wish after winning the TED Prize in 2008. The Charter for Compassion was written in 2009, and the movement is growing. It's a very inspiring statement/movement. Below is the complete text of the Charter. Additional information can be found at charterforcompassion.org.

The principle of compassion lies at the heart of all religious, ethical and spiritual traditions, calling us always to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves. Compassion impels us to work tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone ourselves from the centre of our world and put another there, and to honour the inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.

It is also necessary in both public and private life to refrain consistently and empathically from inflicting pain. To act or speak violently out of spite, chauvinism, or self-interest, to impoverish, exploit or deny basic rights to anybody, and to incite hatred by denigrating others—even our enemies—is a denial of our common humanity. We acknowledge that we have failed to live compassionately and that some have even increased the sum of human misery in the name of religion.

We therefore call upon all men and women ~ to restore compassion to the centre of morality and religion ~ to return to the ancient principle that any interpretation of scripture that breeds violence, hatred or disdain is illegitimate ~ to ensure that youth are given accurate and respectful information about other traditions, religions and cultures ~ to encourage a positive appreciation of cultural and religious diversity ~ to cultivate an informed empathy with the suffering of all human beings—even those regarded as enemies.

We urgently need to make compassion a clear, luminous and dynamic force in our polarized world. Rooted in a principled determination to transcend selfishness, compassion can break down political, dogmatic, ideological and religious boundaries. Born of our deep interdependence, compassion is essential to human relationships and to a fulfilled humanity. It is the path to enlightenment, and indispensable to the creation of a just economy and a peaceful global community.

Chautauqua Reflection IV: Front Porches

2011-08-24T10:42:00.000-04:00

Every dwelling at Chautauqua has a front porch. Personal homes, denominational houses, hotels, public buildings, meeting rooms...they all have the front porch. Whether it's facing the lake, the amphitheater, or simply the buildings across the street, every home has a front porch.

Front porches serve as a "third place," as Leonard Sweet describes in his book, The Gospel According to Starbucks. A third place is a place that is not home and not work that allows us to connect relationally with other people. Third places used to be everywhere. However, in the second half of the 20th Century, we did away with third places, choosing instead to limit our interaction with strangers to a minimum. However, Sweet writes:

In a culture without a front porch, in a culture where we built up the backs of our houses with decks and walls, not the fronts of our houses where we might connect with a passing neighbor; in a world where we invested in privacy over hospitality, Starbucks spoke these words: "We'll be your front porch. Hang out here."

Sweet's point is that church used to be a third place, a connection point for relating with fellow humans. Yet, we have drifted away from that, and perhaps we should follow the example and return to such an idea.

Most of the meaningful conversations and connections I made with others came on front porches at Chautauqua:

Meeting fellow United Methodists at the denominational house.
Sharing the beauty of a summer morning with a new friend, gazing at the peaceful waters of the lake while discussing the importance of Sabbath.
Analyzing the prospective 2012 fantasy baseball values of Pedro Alvarez and Domonic Brown with a fellow baseball fan.
Playfully debating which denomination has the best preachers, and whether it is appropriate for United Methodists to learn preaching from Tom Long, who happens to be Presbyterian.
Listening to a colleague sharing struggles from her current ministry setting.
Chatting with members of our congregation on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

All these conversations happened on front porches. Half of them probably would not have occurred had it not been for Chautauqua's front porch culture. All week, I reflected back on Sweet's words, wondering how the church might find a way to serve as a third place, as a point of connection, as a front porch to our culture. How are our churches acting as front porches? If they are not, what might we need to change?

Chautauqua Reflection III: Red Thread

2011-08-11T09:22:00.000-04:00

While at Chautauqua, I heard Barbara Lundblad preach some very inspiring sermons. The one that stuck with me, and with most people there that week, was her sermon on Rahab the Prostitute.

You can read Rahab's story in the Old Testament - in Joshua 2:1-24. As the Israelites prepare to enter the promised land, Jericho is a city in the way. As Dr. Lundblad noted, it's always a bit unsettling to arrive in the promised land only to discover that someone else is already there. So spies are sent on a scouting mission to Jericho, and while there are protected by Rahab, hiding out on the roof of the brothel in the city wall. In exchange for her protection of them, they work out a deal in which she will hang a crimson cord - a red thread - out of her window, and her home and family within will be spared. While the rest of Jericho is pillaged, the red thread saves Rahab.

There are many puzzling things about this story. Why was Rahab protecting outsiders who were about to destroy her city? Why do the men agree to protect a prostitute? For that matter, why is the protagonist of a biblical story a prostitute? And most puzzling to me is the point Dr. Lundblad made in her sermon: who is the outsider? It depends on where you stand, doesn't it? For Rahab and the people of Jericho, the men are the outsiders. But for the Israelite sympathizer, the outsiders are these folks who stand in the way of the promised land.

More than anything, Lundblad said, this story is a reminder that we ought not overlook the red thread. We ought to pay attention to those caught up in the city wall, a position right on the line between "us" and "them." The red thread reminds us to see the face of neighbor and enemy in the midst of holy conquest.

Lundblad framed this in the context of 9/11. As we approach the 10th anniversary of that tragic day, it's time, she said, to organize a red thread campaign. The red thread can be a sign that we mourn the attack on one of our cities. It can be a sign that insider vs. outsider is a much more complicated debate than we want to believe. And it can be a sign that in the midst of a struggle that continues, we fix our eyes on those in the margins of the conflict, on Rahab and those lives valued and saved in the midst of violent conflict.

It's time for the Red Thread Campaign. It's not time to more fervently delineate the lines between us and them, or to celebrate war, or to declare God's blessing on our holy conquest over the holy conquest of another. It's time to hang a Red Thread in the window, as a reminder to ourselves and others that we mourn lost life and seek God's protection for all human life caught up in the midst of conflict.

Chautauqua Reflection II: The Body of Christ

2011-08-08T07:47:00.000-04:00

Over the last few years, the Chautauqua Religion Department has organized an ecumenical communion service one Sunday each summer. Sunday morning worship in the amphitheater is a high point of the week, with over 4,000 in attendance and well-known preachers at the pulpit. The week I was there, it was the week of ecumenical communion, with Barbara Lundblad preaching.

About 35 clergy, including me, participated as servers. It was a wonderful celebration to participate in, seeing people of varied denominations come together to unite as the body of Christ.

But later that day, I was reminded of how broken that body of Christ still is. We ran into someone we know who stated with heaviness that some people left during the sermon, prior to communion. The likely reason was that Dr. Lundblad mentioned gay marriage becoming legal in the state of New York, although it was not central to the point of the sermon. Her message was that with difficult current issues, our response as Christians should be to try to bring something old (tradition, scripture) and something new (scientific discovery, experience) to the conversation as we discern the correct path to take. We cannot and should not ignore tradition and scripture, but we also cannot be imprisoned by it. Dr. Lundblad merely used gay marriage and the U.S. debt ceiling as examples of tough issues which we face, but for those who left as soon as they heard the words "gay marriage," they missed the real point of the sermon, which was pretty non-controversial even though her illustrations were.

And so this is the body of Christ. We are united by Christ, but we are not yet a perfectly whole body. We still hurt each other, intentionally or not. We still get offended, rightfully or not. However, an ecumenical communion service at Chautauqua would have been unheard of not too long ago. That Sunday reminded me of how far we've come in uniting as Christ's body, and yet how far we still have to go. We are a body, but we are still broken. I pray that one day we may be made whole again.

Chautauqua Reflection I: "The Chautauqua Experience"

2011-08-03T09:21:00.000-04:00

It's difficult to describe Chautauqua Institution to those who have never been there. Is it a resort? Is it a collection of summer homes? Is it a religious retreat and conference center? Is it a summer-long academic conference? Is it a place to bicycle, kayak, and swim? Is it a relatively homogenous gated community that seems cult-like at times? What is Chautauqua?

Chautauqua is all of these things, and more. That's why they call it the Chautauqua Experience - until you immerse yourself into the rhythm of a summer week at Chautauqua, it's difficult to get a handle on its purpose. According to its own mission statement, it is a non-profit community "dedicated to the exploration of the best in human values and the enrichment of life" through four program areas: The Arts, Religion, Education, and Recreation. In short, it was created (with Methodist roots) as an experiment in a "learning vacation," and I found it to be the rare place that can nourish MIND, BODY, and SOUL.

Unfortunately, with the busy schedule of the New Clergy Program and my mid-week trip home, my body was drained rather than nourished by Chautauqua. However, the week was certainly nourishing to both my mind and soul. There, I had the pleasure of engaging my faith with intellect and reason at a level not felt since seminary.

The rhythm of our week went as follows: each morning began with shared breakfast that encouraged community among our group, followed by morning worship (Barbara Lundblad was the preacher of the week). There was a morning lecture to follow; this week's theme was "21st Century Women: The Road to Social and Economic Growth." In the afternoon, we attended the interfaith lectures (theme: Women Transcending Boundaries), then met with either the lecturer or another distinguished guest. Evenings afforded us opportunities for discussion and learning, and at times allowed us to meet with yet another distinguished religious leader. Late evenings were free so we could take in the evening performances at the amphitheater: symphony, ballet, choir, or Allison Krauss.

The Chautauqua Experience, especially through this New Clergy Program, was both relaxing and exhausting for me. But I did enjoy it thoroughly, and do plan to return in future years.

Next Reflection: "Ecumenical Communion at Sunday Worship"

Chautauqua, Death, and a Skydiving Cat

2011-08-01T11:52:00.000-04:00

Last week was a week I won't soon forget. The plan was to spend the whole week at Chautauqua Institution in NY. I'd been accepted into a program run by the religion department there called the New Clergy Leadership Conference. It consists of clergy from many faith traditions spending a week, discussing relevant issues pertaining to leadership in ministry, as well as participating in what people commonly call "the Chautauqua experience."

But, as often happens in ordained ministry, there was a death in our congregation and I returned home for two days mid-week to tend to the family and lead the funeral service. While home, I also spent time tending to one of our two cats, who fell out of a 2nd floor window in our home and broke his paw. Needless to say, I got very little sleep.

Since things were so hectic, I didn't get a chance to do what I had hoped: to blog about the Chautauqua new clergy program while I was experiencing it. But over the next couple of weeks, I plan to share some reflections in this space about my week at Chautauqua and the ways it enriched me. So check back for several installments in the days ahead, pray for the grieving family in our congregation, and if you have cats, don't let them lean up against the window screens!

A Beautiful Rainy Night at PNC Park

2011-07-19T07:35:00.002-04:00

Question: What's better than sitting in great seats, watching the Pirates win to take over first place, and meeting Arnold Palmer?

Answer: Not Much.

Last night, a friend treated me to Lexus Club seats at PNC Park. We sat in the 2nd row, just behind home plate. Despite 2 rain delays, it was a great night.

As we entered our section, a sign informed us that the signature drink of the night was an Arnold Palmer. And as we got close to our seats, we found out why: Arnold Palmer was sitting across the aisle from us. And, he ordered an Arnold Palmer, which begs the question: how does he order himself? Does he say, "I'll have a 'me'"?

As you can see, he graciously let me get a picture with him. But since there were 2 rain delays, he left after the first one, as many fans did. We stuck it out and were rewarded.

In the 4th, the Pirates scratched across 2 runs. "That's good, but I have a feeling it'll take more than 2 runs to beat this Reds team," I said. Fortunately, it didn't, and Joel Hanrahan closed out a 2-0 win with another lights-out 9th inning. Which means...

your Pittsburgh Pirates are in first place today, July 19, 2011. The best part of the night: seeing the Brewers' loss go final just as Hanrahan entered in the 9th, and then celebrating with other fans the dreamy fact that after 94 games, the Pirates are in first place. By themselves.

All in all, a pretty good night.

The White Knight

2011-06-22T07:38:00.003-04:00

At last night's Pirates game, I got up after the 3rd inning to get a drink. As I turned into the aisle, I almost tripped over some blond haired doofus sitting in the aisle a couple rows back, dressed well and holding an iPad. That doofus turned out to be no doofus at all; it was Pirates GM Neal Huntington.

I love this man. I've loved him since the summer he arrived in Pittsburgh and began implementing the genius plan that is turning the Pirates around into a contending team for 2012. He stayed in our section for about 45 minutes, and if he wasn't deep in conversation, I would've loved to take a moment to thank him for all his hard work and courage in the face of stupid Pirates fans that don't understand baseball economics.

Actually, it was all I could do to keep from hugging him. I've said it pretty much since the day of the Jason Bay trade, and I'll say it again: I HEART NEAL HUNTINGTON.

Eat. Play. Sleep. Repeat.

2011-06-02T13:22:00.002-04:00

Last weekend, we visited Lisa’s family in North Carolina, including our nephew Jonathan, and our nieces Natalie and Anna. Jonathan is almost 5, and Natalie is almost 2 ½. Anna is 2 weeks old, so we mainly just held her, but with Jonathan and Natalie, we packed a lot of fun into a day and a half. In that short time, we did the following:

- played on the couch

- played in the secret hiding place

- practiced our lightsaber skills

- played Frisbee (twice)

- ate lots and lots of watermelon

- invented a game consisting of shooting foam rockets into a trash can

- went out for ice cream

- used an old keyboard to pretend-type emails to various family and friends.

(Also, Jonathan gave me a dinosaur tattoo on my hand, and Natalie wore her sunglasses while eating lunch inside because they made her look cool.)

I learned this weekend that a child’s life consists of 3 things: playing, eating, and sleeping. That’s it. And if we’re supposed to have faith like a child, maybe that’s a good model for congregational life – not children’s ministry, not Christian education, but every aspect of our shared life as communities of faith.

Most churches have a congregational life consisting of 3 things as well: worship, meetings, and ministry activities or events. All these things are good and necessary, but all can very quickly become serious, routine, and dare I say boring? Without careful attention, they mirror the rest of our life at home and work: propriety the primary concern, functionality secondary, and of little to no concern, whether or not we actually enjoy what we’re doing. I don’t remember the last time church gave me the opportunity to brush up on lightsaber skills, and maybe that’s a sign that something needs to change.

I fear that sometimes, we get to taking ourselves and our role a bit too seriously. If the church is the body of Christ, then from time to time, it’s important that we play, eat, and sleep. It’s also important that we smile, dance, and occasionally laugh so much we fall out of the pew.

The lesson to be learned is this: Be like children. Play more in worship. Eat together more regularly, both in and out of the approved food consumption location in our building. And when we’re feeling cranky, as an individual or a congregation, don’t yell. Take a moment to rest in God’s presence, maybe even take a nap, and perhaps we will find the peace that passes all understanding and the discernment necessary for carrying out God’s will. Jesus stands at the door and knocks. Will we come out to play?

Language in Christian Community

2011-05-26T14:20:00.000-04:00

“Okay kids, let’s all be like the silent coyote! His mouth is closed, and his ears are attentive!”

That was my favorite way to quiet down rowdy kids when I was a camp counselor, and it worked (almost) all the time. Either the kids cowered in fear, or they made fun of the corny camp counselor making a coyote with his hand. Until that first week I worked with the youngest kids. The ones who stared at me confused, and I stared back, wondering what I had said that was so difficult to understand. Then, a fellow counselor turned to me and whispered, “Erik, they’re eight. They don’t know what ‘attentive’ means.”

Immediately, I apologized. It was foolish to think these kids would have a full vocabulary before reaching the 3^rd grade. How could I be so careless as to use that word around them?! But again, my fellow counselor scolded me: “Don’t apologize! You don’t have to only use words they know! Use “attentive,” and then teach them what it means!”

That day, I learned a very important lesson. Vocabularies are not universal. Some people have larger vocabularies, some have smaller ones, some know technical jargon related to their industry or field, and the teenagers are always up on the freshest slang. And sailors, so I’ve been told, have vocabularies chock-full of swear words. I also learned that vocabulary is never set; we can always expand our vocabulary or help someone else expand theirs.

I’ve noticed that in an increasingly secular culture, the western Christian church has finally discovered that we have our own jargon, a vocabulary that is completely foreign to all but the lifetime, card-carrying members. This is a valuable realization, because there’s nothing worse than a pastor preaching about soteriology to pews full of people who have never even heard the term. And lest we become even less hospitable than we already are, we shouldn’t assume that everyone knows the words to Psalm 23, the Gloria Patri, or even the Lord’s Prayer. (Let’s pause for a moment to absorb that shocking news. Cue the elevator music.)

In light of this reality, it’s time we reconsider language and how we use it in the community of faith. When planning worship, we must assume no prior knowledge, be it well-known liturgy, when to sit or stand, or even the cursory knowledge required to navigate through a hymnal. When leading Bible study or preaching, we must assume that attendees don’t know where to find Hosea, and avoid lines like “As we all know in the story about Ruth and Boaz on the threshing floor,” which instantly alienate the millions of people who don’t know said story. And we might put Tuesday’s SPRC meeting on the calendar, but that first-time visitor looking for a way to connect doesn’t know if that’s a committee in the church or a “Singles Playing Rowdy Croquet” mixer.

All these things are important to remember. We cannot and should not assume prior knowledge. Hence the recent phenomenon in many Christian churches to use the lowest common denominator with regards to language. But we should proceed with caution, or we will lose much of the rich Christian language we currently possess.

Sanctuaries have been renamed worship centers (these are not the same thing). Theology has become “God talk.” The Gloria Patri and Affirmation of Faith have been removed from worship with the explanation, “people don’t even know what we’re saying or why we’re saying it, so what’s the point it doing it anymore?” And for those of us who are United Methodist, we’ve seen our General Rules simplified. John Wesley stated them as: “Do no harm, Do good, and attend upon all the ordinances of God.” Bishop Rueben Job changed the third to simply, “Stay in love with God.”

Let me be clear, I do believe we are called to express our faith and the Gospel message in ways that do not require a college degree. It is time to stop assuming everyone around us knows our churchy jargon, theological terms, and liturgical movements (Why do you have ashes on your forehead???). Such assumptions are intellectually arrogant, and widen rather than bridge the gap between “insiders” and “outsiders.”

But equally arrogant is the assumption that others cannot be taught what we already know. Consider the aforementioned example of the General Rules. We cannot say, for instance, that people don’t know what it means to “attend upon all the ordinances of God,” therefore we should just tell them to stay in love with God. That is as ridiculous as a high school math teacher saying, “My students don’t know calculus, so we just do multiplication tables, and that will help them be great mathematicians.”

After all, I didn’t always know what it meant to attend upon all the ordinances of God. Somewhere along the way, in confirmation class or college or even seminary, I learned that it means showing up to worship, listening to sermons, engaging in study of scripture, receiving communion, praying alone and with my family, and practicing disciplines like abstinence and fasting when the situation calls for it. Bishop Job was on to something, because these ordinances do draw us into a deeper love for God and open us up to God’s love for us. But staying in love with God is the result of attending upon all the ordinances of God, not the equivalent.

In the Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20), Jesus didn’t say, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them…and teaching them to obey everything that I have told you. And remember, those people you teach will have the comprehension skills of a 6 year old, so when you teach them, don’t use big words and only talk about basic concepts.” Meaning, we’re not supposed to shy away from asking eight year olds to be attentive. But when they don’t know what that means, it’s not because they’re unable to. It’s because no one ever cared enough to teach them a new word, so like a silent coyote, they had no proper language to fully comprehend the message.

Gone Fishin': There's a sign upon your door

2011-05-20T08:03:00.003-04:00

The life of a pastor is busy. If you can track one down, ask, "How's life?" The response will probably include words like busy, crazy, chaotic, exhausting, tiring, REALLY busy, SUPER busy, or any other busy you can think of that's busier than your busy.

I'll admit to being a prime culprit of rattling off this type of response. That's because it's true: even the life of a small-town pastor is busy most of the time. But do you want to know a secret? I like being busy. Most pastors do. That's why, if we're not actually busy, we figure out a way to be anyway. We won't admit it, but we like being busy because it's usually the only way we'll ever feel a sense of accomplishment. We don't build stuff or seal a big business transaction or win a case. So we have to measure our accomplishments primarily by work ethic.

It's an illness. I'm a recovering workaholic, the son of 2 workaholics and the brother of a workaholic. It runs in our family, the incessant need to be busy. Which is why today, on my day off, I have a list of chores (including but not limited to: laundry, cutting the grass, cleaning the house for company this weekend). I could take this whole day to read a magazine, take a bike ride, watch TV and fall asleep with a cat on my lap, but then Kramer would burst in and yell at me.

Not today. It's the first day in over a week that it's not raining. I'm going golfing, and I'm not going to feel guilty about it, because we're not Puritans. We're allowed to do something that makes us feel good from time to time.

Christian Reflections on the Death of a Terrorist

2011-05-02T13:20:00.003-04:00

“Osama Bin Laden is dead.” These five words contain tremendous power, and are capable of eliciting many emotions and reactions in each person. I share in this space my own initial reflections, as someone who is proudly American yet professes even greater allegiance to Jesus Christ, who is the incarnation of a merciful God.

I am thankful for what this news possibly means: the prevention of future atrocities against humanity, and the weakening of Al-Qaeda. As a citizen of the country that committed this action, I am also thankful for the courage and service of our military, and the government’s and military’s leadership, including the leadership of both President Obama and former President Bush. This was made possible by the hard work and leadership of many.

I am hopeful that this is indeed a step toward peace and human dignity. However, my hope is tempered by the fact that violence begets violence, and peace cannot ultimately be achieved by violent means. In a 1963 speech Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction.” Indeed, only the light of Jesus Christ is powerful enough to destroy the evil and hatred that persists in this world. It is foolish to believe our acts, however noble, can ultimately rid the world of evil and establish justice.

However, we do live in a world where at times, acts such as this one may be considered necessary and just. This is a reality that elicits deep sadness within me. Equally sad and troubling is the outpouring of celebration, joy, and excitement over the death of another human being. No matter who has died, responding in jubilation is never appropriate. When we dance, chant, and sing in celebration, then we are no better than those whom we disdain for celebrating in the same way over the loss of American lives.

Finally, I am in prayer. I pray for those who lost loved ones in the events of 9/11 or other terrorist attacks orchestrated by Al-Qaeda. Surely their pain and grief has flooded back as a wave of emotions in the wake of this news. I pray for a world so broken that military force and the killing of a fellow human may be considered justice. I pray also for the soul of Osama Bin Laden. I believe that redemption is possible even for the soul of a man who committed horrific evil against humanity, and I am thankful that God is far more merciful than we have the capacity to be.

I do not fully understand what this news means. I do not know the will of God in this. What I do know is this: when we fail to live as Christ calls us to live – be it orchestrating murder of thousands with terrorism, responding inappropriately or de-humanizing the death of a fellow human, or simply being arrogant enough to claim we know what justice is – there is a God of mercy with incalculable capacity to forgive. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Uncontained

2011-04-26T09:09:00.002-04:00

We know who Jesus is. He is God’s son, born of a virgin, the incarnation and fullest revelation of God in Heaven and the one who saves us from the power of sin and death. He preached, taught, healed, performed miracles, and prophesied. We know these things because of scripture: the Old Testament prophecies that he fulfilled, the four Gospel accounts of his life, death, and resurrection, and of course, the other New Testament writings that communicate who the early church understood him to be. So we know all about Jesus. We understand him completely. Or do we?

“But there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.” – John 21:25

These parting words in the Gospel of John are often overlooked, perhaps because we’re in such a rush to get to the stories of the early church in Acts. But they are a reminder to us that we don’t know everything. In fact, there is so much to know about Jesus Christ that even the author of John, who presumably was one of Jesus’ disciples, didn’t know the whole story. Maybe he knew more about Jesus’ life than he wrote, but he also demonstrates awareness that God can never completely be grasped: “I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written [about Jesus].”

I have read several biographies of baseball great Roberto Clemente. I know a lot about him: his early years, the on-field accomplishments, the racism he faced as a black Puerto Rican in the overtly racist United States of the 1960’s. I know he was a tremendous humanitarian, and that he died in a plane crash as he was attempting to deliver relief supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaragua. I know a lot of things and have a fair sense of who Roberto Clemente was and what he stood for.

But there are probably a lot of stories I’ll never hear about his life. There’s a lot I’ll never know about him. Having never had so much as a cup of coffee with him, who am I to say I know all there is to know about Roberto Clemente?

We are 2000 years removed from the earthly ministry of Jesus Christ. But because of people like John, we have a sense of who Jesus was and is. Yet, that does not mean we know everything there is to know about Jesus, nor that we will ever know. In fact, God is so much bigger than our human minds can comprehend, and in the person of Jesus is too great to contain in books. So we know Christ, but there is also so much we do not know.

These words that conclude John’s gospel remind us that no matter how much we’ve learned about Jesus from scripture, there is still so much we don’t know. And even if we had a library of books stacked to the heavens, there is still so much we wouldn’t know.

This is why the continued search for understanding is at the heart of the Christian faith. To be a follower of Christ is to admit that we have a limited understanding of the one we are following. This is at once humbling and comforting: humbling because we are reminded of our inability to understand, and comforting because we know there is a God out there that far surpasses human understanding, yet still cares about us. I suppose that love is so great that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.

A Sinful Beginning to Lent

2011-03-11T18:50:00.006-05:00

Lent is supposed to be a time of increased reflection and devotion. We're supposed to cut non-essentials out of our lives and replace them with more time with God. And yet, the first three days of Lent have, for me, been nothing but a hurried mess of appointments, required conference events and meetings, driving to and fro, preparing for Lenten services, filling out paperwork, responding to emails, and so on. Looking at my calendar over the next few weeks, it only figures to get worse. Part of the busyness is owed to unique events this year, but much of it is the usual grind of additional worship services, a desire to make existing services "different" to signify Lent, and the march toward Holy Week, the most dramatic week in the Christian year. And all it's doing is making me feel busy, tired, and guilty for thinking I'm too important to slow down.

Has our religious activity during Lent become the thing most getting in the way of observing Lent? This may be more of a clergy issue, but I suspect it is not. Perhaps this is part of the Lenten challenge: finding time and energy to meditate when life is a whirlwind of activity. If so, then I am failing tremendously thus far. There's still time to improve my Lenten observance. Ironically enough, I just haven't found it yet.

U2charist

2011-02-21T08:53:00.003-05:00

Last night, I received Holy Communion in the Pittsburgh Hard Rock Cafe. It was part of a U2charist worship led by United Methodists in the Pittsburgh area, a service that doubled as an Imagine No Malaria event. It was a night in which the Holy Spirit was flowing more strongly than the spirits on the shelf behind the bar.

I can't say that I've ever received Communion in a bar before last night, and now I'm wondering why not. Why aren't we holding worship and administering sacraments in bars and restaurants? Why do we limit these acts to our sanctuaries? Jesus didn't. John Wesley didn't. And we shouldn't.

Recently I preached on Matthew 5:13-20, in which Jesus declares that we are the light of the world. But how can anyone see our light shine when we're hiding under the bushel baskets of our sanctuaries? Last night, the light of Western Pennsylvania United Methodists radiated through Hard Rock. We placed ourselves in the world, and let our light shine as we received Christ's body and fought to eradicate malaria. We need to be doing these things more often.

SB XLV Devotion 7: Super Prayer

2011-02-06T07:49:00.002-05:00

This is my prayer as we Christians who also happen to be Steeler fans gather for worship this morning. We are excited for the big game, but let us be excited as well about all the things God has done, is doing, and will do for us.

Almighty God, we greet you this morning with football games and parties on our mind. As Western Pennsylvanians, we are at the height of Steeler fever today. But we know better than to make that the focus of this day. We know that a silly football game is far less important than taking the time to worship you. And so we gather in your house to worship you and you alone. Help us to set aside the concerns of this world, to ignore the temptation to worship false idols, so that we are completely focused on you today. Center us, O God. Bring our wills into accordance with your will as we seek to live and worship you this hour. In the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns in us, Amen.

SB XLV Devotion 6: Heroes

2011-02-05T09:00:00.001-05:00

Read Joshua 4:1-8
“So these stones shall be to the Israelites a memorial forever.” – Joshua 4:7

Tonight, the 2011 Pro Football Hall of Fame class will be announced. It’s a perfect Super Bowl Eve activity: remembering the heroes of the past as a precursor to the birth of new heroes on the grandest stage. The new enshrines are all persons who have made their mark within the historical narrative of the NFL, and we must tell our children and grandchildren about their significant acts someday.

We have heroes of the faith, too. They are the ones who forded the River Jordan into God’s promise. They are Abraham and Moses, David and Samuel, and others who are listed in Hebrews 11 as “so great a cloud of witnesses.” They are our Sunday School teachers, our pastors, Mrs. Johnson sneaking us candy in the back pew, Mr. Jones telling us how proud we made him when we were home visiting from college. They are our parents who taught us to pray, and the choir director that taught us to sing.

We all have our own “heroes” of the faith. They are the persons without whom we could not tell our own story of faith. Today, as we remember the heroes of sport, let us also remember those who have helped us along the faith journey as well. Think of those people, and offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God for placing them in your life.

SB XLV Devotion 5: On the Road

2011-02-04T09:00:00.000-05:00

Read Psalm 34
“O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.” – Psalm 34:3

Whenever Lisa and I are away from home and the Steelers are playing a game, we do everything we can to rearrange our schedule and find a place to watch. This year, we saw one game in Myrtle Beach, rushed back to Pittsburgh for another, and were disappointed when our New Year’s cruise did not televise the Steelers game. We love watching our Steelers every week, and really hate missing even one game every season.

Three members of our congregation are traveling to Texas this weekend to attend the Super Bowl. I wonder if they’ll put forth the same effort to seek out a church for worship on Sunday. I wonder if I’d put forth the effort, or whether I’d skip a week of worship too.

When we travel, we alter our schedule to make sure we still have time for what’s important to us. Is worship one of those things? I’ll admit that sometimes it isn’t part of my travel plans when I’m away over a Sunday. But it should be – not because God will punish me if I don’t attend, but because I’m called to worship God on a regular basis. It’s not about whether we want to worship or whether we’ll enjoy it. Surely those things will be regularly present as well, but not always. Sometimes, on vacation, when the evening plans are the only thing on our mind, we ought to take an hour to attend to our worship life first.

No matter where you’re reading this, in North Texas or elsewhere, and wish to find a United Methodist Church in which to worship, remember that you can always visit www.find-a-church.org.

SB XLV Devotion 4: Practice

2011-02-03T09:08:00.001-05:00

Read 1 Peter 1:13-16
“Therefore prepare your minds for action; discipline yourselves.” – 1 Peter 1:13

That’s right Allen Iverson, we talkin bout practice. For the last 6 months, the Steelers and Packers have spent 6 days a week preparing to play, and 1 day a week playing. This week is no different. Film study. Conditioning. Drills. Walk-throughs. Why? So their bodies and minds are prepared for action. If they were to spend an entire week playing video games and eating Cheetos, they would not be ready to play on Sunday. But they’d probably be ready for a video game tournament.

Anything we do well, we do because we disciplined ourselves to practice it. Whether it’s athletics, music, baking, or preaching, we need to practice if we want to be prepared to excel at something. And practice takes a lot of discipline.

It’s the same way with the Christian faith. Being a disciple requires discipline – that shouldn’t be any surprise since they come from the same root word. If we want follow Christ, we must discipline ourselves to daily practices that help shape us in the way of Christ. We must be disciplined in how we use our time, how we manage our finances, and how we relate with others.

If we do not discipline ourselves to regular spiritual practices – prayer, study of scripture, worship, communion, meditation, and others – then we cannot expect to be prepared to encounter God on Sunday. If we do not prepare, then we will not be ready for the things God has called us to in this life and the next.

Some translations of 1 Peter 1:13 read, “Gird up the loins of your mind.” That’s some pretty strong language of preparation. Get ready! Discipline yourself to prepare so that when Christ calls you, you are ready to respond!

SB XLV Devotion 3: Tradition

2011-02-02T09:21:00.001-05:00

Read Joshua 24:1-28
“…but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” – Josh. 24:15

Beginning at my birth, my parents formed me in a great tradition. They taught me the old stories, sang the old songs to me, and when it was time for me to claim membership in the tradition for myself at age 14, I was handed the one thing every Steelers fan needs: a Terrible Towel.

That’s how we raise ‘em in Western PA. You’re born into a tradition that dates back to 1933, one that includes stories of struggle, pain, and loss as well as stories of triumph and great joy. An Immaculate Reception signaled the beginning of a new era, a sign that despite all the miserable history of the first 39 years, God still cares about the Steelers.

Meet anyone who grew up in Pittsburgh, and chances are they own a Terrible Towel, wear a jersey on game day, and know every last word to the Pittsburgh Steelers Polka. We not only teach our young ones about the Steelers tradition, but we allow that family tradition to shape them as well. By the time they are adults, they will be able to practice their fandom anywhere, as the Steeler Nation is connectional in nature – Steeler bars exist in all 50 states and many foreign countries.

What if we had the same fervor for passing on the Christian tradition? My parents did. Sure, you couldn’t “skip” watching the Steelers games in my house, but you couldn’t skip church either. By the time I was a teenager, I could sing many hymns by heart, just as I could with the Steelers Polka. And just as I was taught to follow the Steelers year-round with daily reading of the newspaper, I was taught to study scripture with even greater devotion.

I don’t mean to say that we should indoctrinate our children, with football rooting interests or religion. But we do have a responsibility in Christian communities to collectively form children in the Christian tradition. We’ve been given a great gift from our ancestors, which we now pass on to those in the community who will follow. That promise is one we make in the sacrament of baptism – that the child will be taught the Christian faith until he or she is old enough to make their own decision. And if they choose to be a 49ers fan or a Buddhist, then so be it, even if it disappoints us that they did not choose the tradition we handed down.

The same hospital in which I was born now drapes a Terrible Towel over every newborn baby. Are we draping our little ones in Christ as well? Are we singing them the songs, teaching them the stories, and encouraging them to develop a passion for following Jesus Christ? Handing down a tradition and encouraging a passion for anything in life takes a lot of work. But it is what we are called to do, both as Steelers fans and Christians.

SB XLV Devotion 2: Media Day

2011-02-01T09:55:00.000-05:00

Read Mark 7:24-37
“He entered a house and did not want anyone to notice he was there.” – Mark 7:24

The zoo-like atmosphere of media day is a product of our obsession with celebrity. Most of the year, football press conferences go largely unnoticed by non-sports media. But on Super Bowl Media Day, journalists and television clowns of all types show up to get precious sound bites from players and coaches. All to feed the public’s desire to “know” and even worship celebrities.

Many of the players will be prepared to answer questions in a particular way. Everything they say and do today will be for the purpose of shaping public perception of themselves. Usually, we are able to tell whether someone is being genuine, or if they’re trying to hard to be well-liked.

What are our motivations for following Christ? Is it because we want to be viewed as “good Christian folk”? Is it to attract the attention of television cameras and newspaper reporters? Or do we follow the example of Jesus, who engaged in ministry for a much greater reason?

In these two healing accounts, Jesus tried to keep news of his ministry on the DL. He was not in ministry for the attention. He was not worried about the public perception of what he was doing. Instead, he concerned himself with meeting the needs of hurting people. He tried to escape media attention, but word got out anyway. And that’s how people knew he was different from the street magicians of the day, who performed healings for their entertainment value. This man named Jesus didn’t want attention, but the things he was doing were so great that despite his best efforts, people took notice.

Are we seeking to entertain? Are we in ministry to be noticed at a public press conference? Or are we doing God’s work in privacy, caring not whether we attract any attention at all? When the lights are off and the cameras are pointed at someone else, what are we doing that will make a true difference in this world?

SB XLV Devotion: Hype

2011-01-31T09:59:00.001-05:00

In Western PA and Wisconsin this week, there is only one thing on everyone’s mind: the Super Bowl between the Steelers and Packers. So how are we to remain devoted to God in the midst of local cultures whose singular focus is the Big Game? All week long, I will offer daily Super Bowl themed devotionals here on this blog.

Read Matthew 7:21-29
“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” – Matt. 7:21

It’s nearly impossible to live in the United States of America right now without knowing there’s a Super Bowl coming up. For two weeks every year, the biggest football game in the world is discussed, advertised, analyzed, and predicted. It is hyped and over-hyped, and every year it seems the conversation becomes louder and larger. The game itself takes 3 hours to play, and yet we need two full weeks to prepare. So, for every hour of the game, we spend 100 hours in preparation.

We’ve spent a week hearing about the game, and we’re still only halfway there. Could we please have a little less talk, and a lot more action? Kick-off cannot come soon enough.

At times, we too are guilty of too much talk and not enough action. We spend two weeks talking about how to follow Christ, and only a few hours actually following. We say, “Lord, Lord,” but we do not do God’s will. We are not to be merely hearers and speakers of the word, but doers as well.

We all have things that we intend to do, and we spend endless amounts of time thinking and planning what we will do in Christ’s name. But in the end, it’s all hype, because we never pick up the ball and run with it.

What deeds are you hyping rather than living? Have you talked about joining a Bible Study? Have you been thinking of a new ministry you could start at your church? Do you keep planning to invite your neighbor to worship on Sunday, but haven’t carried out those plans? Are you considering the decision to drop all you have and follow Jesus Christ for the first time?

Stop talking! Start doing! Grab the football, tee it up, and kick-off already!

Scoreboard

2011-01-16T06:17:00.003-05:00

Hockey: Penguins 3, Bruins 2.
Football: Steelers 31, Ravens 24.
College Hoops: Pitt 74, Seton Hall 53.

That was a fun Saturday.

The Thought That Counts

2010-12-22T16:19:00.003-05:00

(Or, "why giving gifts doesn't necessarily mean you sold your soul")

Yes, exchanging gifts around Christmas has gotten out of hand. Every year it’s bigger and better gifts, bigger and worse debt, and bigger and more useless piles of “stuff” that we never use. Black Friday brings out the worst in humanity, malls and big box stores are evil, Jesus is the reason for the season but not the reason you’re shopping at Dick’s, blah blah blah.

Listen, I agree. The retail side of Christmas is out of hand and a tragic sign of where our culture’s priorities lie. For many, gift giving has become more trouble than it’s worth. For these and other reasons, both sides of our family have begun cutting back in gift giving in recent years. Lisa and I tithe a percentage of our gift budget to charitable organizations each Christmas. We’re scaling back so we can spend more time in church than at the mall this month. But let’s not be too holier-than-thou. The fact is, there’s not necessarily anything wrong with giving and receiving gifts with others.

That’s right, I said it. It’s still okay to exchange gifts and be a Christian. I have spent considerable time this season shopping for people I care about. I’ll admit, I’ve put more thought into some gifts than others, but with all my gifts I’ve thought about the receiver. Who are they? What are their interests? Will they really use this? Will they appreciate it?

You see, gift giving offers us a chance to think about people around us. We smile just thinking about how much she’ll love it, or how his eyes will light up when he unwraps it. Or, when we struggle to find a good gift because we don’t know the person very well, we recognize the room for growth in a neglected relationship. Gift giving can be a meaningful way to reflect on and express our love for each other as spouses, siblings, children, parents, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, co-workers, or friends. In fact, for some people gift giving is the most comfortable way to express love for another.

I’m not saying we all have to give each other gifts, because it isn’t the purpose of the season. And this is in no way a call for others to give me gifts – I have already received enough Christmas gifts to last a lifetime. But I’m also not saying we have to feel guilty if we have a desire to give. We can be reasonable gift-givers and Christians. We can worship Christ on Christmas Eve and open up gifts on Christmas morning, and not be selling our souls to the devil.

My parents, sister, and I chose to not exchange gifts this year. Yet when we gathered for a family Christmas dinner last night, my mother had placed a small gift for each of us by our seat at the table. My first response was to roll my eyes and think, “Oh Mom, it’s not about giving gifts. I thought we agreed to not do that this year. Return it and save your money, because Lord knows we don’t need this.”

Instead, I gladly accepted the gift, which was a small carved nativity. I said a simple “Thank you,” and admired it for a moment to show my appreciation for the well-thought gift. Then, as a family, we bowed together and prayed, and broke bread together as we celebrated being in the presence of each other and of the Christ child. And it was then that I realized, in this season when we celebrate the joy of the greatest gift of all, that there can also be true joy in the giving and receiving of lesser gifts, when the gift giving is reasonably done out of love.

The Home Stretch

2010-12-20T08:51:00.004-05:00

It's here. It's Christmas week. The Advent calendars are nearing their end, the Christmas Eve service is almost ready, and the incarnation is about to break forth into our dark world.

I have a long list of things to do this week, both at work and home. I'd imagine that's true for most of us. However, this week is going to be awesome. And do you know why? Because we'll celebrate the mystery of the Christ child - a virgin mother, a heavenly Father, a stinky stable, a feed trough, angels, shepherds. We'll be led in by luminaria, illumined by candles, comforted by a familiar story, and sent out singing carols.

Christmas is going to be awesome this year. Christmas is going to be awesome this week. No amount of trivial tasks will steal the joy of the message of Christmas: God is with us.

When Christmas Isn't So "Merry"

2010-12-13T17:03:00.004-05:00

(This is an adaptation of my sermon from Sunday, Dec. 12, 2010, the 3rd Sunday of Advent. It is a proclamation of the Gospel in the midst of what has been a particularly difficult period of grieving in our congregation and community recently.)

I have to be honest with you – I’m getting really sick of hearing about teenage and young adult deaths. We've had too many of them in this area and/or affecting our congregation over the last month and a half - 4 lives lost in a plane crash, one life lost because she didn't hear the train, and 3 lives lost in car accidents - plus a surviving driver struggling with unnecessary guilt.

I’ve grown weary with the frequency I’ve used the phrase, “I’m sorry to hear about your loss,” in recent weeks. It’s not that I’m not sorry, or that I don’t want to offer support and comfort. It’s that we shouldn’t have to be dealing with these things together as a community. It’s just not fair. I can’t help but think that, as much as my heart is aching over the deaths of these young people I never knew, how much heartache do you who knew them have? And how much heartache are their families feeling right now? It’s inconceivable, and it’s completely unfair. No parent should ever have to bury their own child, no matter how old or young. I don’t believe God wanted any of these things to happen, and I don’t believe that God caused them, but I do believe that our God knows our pain, weeps alongside us, and is taking care of these beloved children.

As a congregation, we have become too familiar recently with what the prophet Isaiah calls “sorrow and sighing” (Isaiah 35:10). It’s enough to put a damper on our holiday season: writing Christmas cards, decorating, shopping for gifts all seems so trivial when I think of the grief that so many families are experiencing right now. I just can’t stop thinking of the empty seats these families will have at the dinner table on Christmas, and how painful that will be. I can’t even begin to imagine the depth of pain.

Like many Old Testament prophets, Isaiah offers words of hope in the midst of despair. It may be for different reasons than our own, but the Israelites are filled with sorrow and sighing just as many of us are filled with sorrow and sighing. The merry for us right now has disappeared, and it’s simply Christmas – and a blue Christmas at that.

We’re always longing for a merry Christmas, and I sense that this year it is especially true. Even if the rest of the year is awful, we want to be happy and merry on Christmas. At least give us that one day where we can forget about the sorrow and sighing, we plead. Give us this season of cheer and happiness. But like many things of this world, when the happiness and merriment of Christmas day wears off, we’ll find ourselves in the same place we were before that day – in sorrow and sighing. It’s enough to make us believe that Woody Allen may have been right when he said, “More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly.”

But there is a 3rd way, says the prophet Isaiah, and that way shall be called the Holy Way. It will be a highway through the desolate desert that leads us back home to God. Advent is a time when that highway is built, and that highway is then paved by the Christ child. God establishes a road to joy, where sorrow and sighing flees away. While we are out trying to find or buy happiness this Christmas, God is busy making us a Holy Way, a highway of joy.

Let me tell you something – many people would have you believe that happiness is to be pursued, that happiness can be bought, that happiness can come if only you think positively. And that may be true – we can find happiness in many things. But when what makes us happy loses its luster - and it will - we begin to realize that none of those things can solve our problems, and none of them can heal our pain. Happiness is just a brief pause, an interlude, from sorrow and sighing. Happiness doesn’t fix anything. It is good, because sometimes we need that break from the realities of life, but in the end it is just that – a break. Giving someone a good book this Christmas, or cooking the perfect turkey or ham for Christmas dinner, won’t fix or solve anything for anybody, even if it makes them happy for awhile.

You see, happiness is not what the Christian is called to pursue. No, we are called to pursue joy, and that is an entirely different and a far greater thing than happiness. Happiness is well and good, but it does not change anything in our lives. Joy, however, is transformative. Joy is not a temporary state of being, but an everlasting rest in the arms of God. And the joy that comes from God alone comes to us on Christmas, in the form of a child named Jesus, as a light to pierce the darkness of our lives, because God so loved the world that he chose to live among us, and invite us to find joy in the Christ child.

Nothing we buy or do this Christmas will make our problems go away. Nothing will bring back those who have died, nothing will fill that void in our lives. But there is help on the way. In these sorrowful times, I have no words for you that will make things happier. I cannot explain or comprehend what is going on around us. All I can do is continue to do what I've spent a lot of the last few weeks doing: sit with my head in my hands, crying out on behalf of the grieving: “O come, O come, Emmanuel. O COME, O COME, EMMANUEL."

Did you ever notice how dark some of the verses of that hymn are? It is not a festive tune to get us into the holiday spirit. O Come, O Come, Emmanuel is a hymn of deep longing for God to meet us in the darkness we find ourselves in. Listen to these verses (emphasis added):

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here,
until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, thou Key of David, come,
and open wide our heavenly home.
The captives from their prison free,
and conquer death's deep misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come thou Dayspring, come and cheer
our spirits by thy justice here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
and death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Do you hear those words? In the midst of death and despair comes a human cry: O come, O come, Emmanuel. We cry out from the deep pain and suffering that weighs us down. We recognize that no Christmas cheer will lift us up except the coming of Christ. But, Christ is on the way. Joy is on the way. And we shall be lifted up. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to THEE, O West Newton. And when it comes, sorrow and sighing will flee away for good – because God will be with us, lifting us above our troubles. So, I do hope your Christmas will be merry, but for some of you, I know there will be very little, if anything, to be merry about. But whether we are merry or not this Christmas, we are sure to find one thing this Christmas: the overwhelming joy of a child in a manger, the beginning of the Holy Way to God, and the hope and promise that one day, all sorrow and sighing will flee away. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel – God with us – shall come to thee.

Incarnational Moment

2010-12-02T07:22:00.000-05:00

Here we are, eating, drinking, and being merry in a mall food court, and unsuspectingly, God breaks in and sings forth new life. THIS is what Christmas is all about - the incarnational moment in which God rises from among us, and in doing so picks up our spirits as well.

Following the Star

2010-11-27T08:27:00.002-05:00

“When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.” –Matt. 2:10

Once again, the holiday season has crept up on us. It seems like only yesterday we were taking summer vacations, having cookouts with the neighbors, and cooling off at the pool. Yet, with autumn comes the return of school, activities, and cooler temperatures, and before we know it, we are stuffed with leftover turkey and decorating the house for Christmas.

Life is a journey, and these days it seems we’ve quickened the pace on that journey. Nowhere is the pace quickened, the stress levels heightened, than this season of Advent and Christmas. Added to life’s usual obligations are all of the seasonal tasks: decorate the house, string the lights, make plans with family, bake the cookies, attend (and host!) the parties, buy the gifts, and don’t forget about the tree!

Which star are you following this Christmas? You may be following the star of busyness, turning Christmas into a series of never-ending tasks. Or, you could be following the star of competition, striving to have the brightest lights, the prettiest tree, or the perfect Christmas party. Perhaps you find yourself following the star of consumerism, fine-tuning your Christmas list and searching for the perfect gift.

Yet, there is another star – the one the wise men followed into the presence of the Christ child, where they were overwhelmed with joy. In your journey through this holiday season, I hope and pray that wherever the stars lead you, you will be led also to stop, enter the manger, and upon meeting the Christ child, be overwhelmed with joy.

Remembering My Baptism

2010-11-11T06:57:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, I visited the church where I was baptized for the first time since I was 2 years old. Although I spent my first 2 years at Crafton UMC, this was the first time I recall being in the building. As I was there, the words echoed through the sanctuary: Remember your baptism and be thankful.

I've heard those words before, but yesterday, those words had new meaning. Now, when I thankfully remember my baptism, I am able to picture the physical location, whereas previously I could not. It's a significant moment in my spiritual journey that has more life to it than it did 2 days ago.

Now, I think back to the Crafton UMC congregation of 1983, celebrating the baptism of an infant named Erik Andrew, son of Tom and Connie Hoeke, promising to help raise this child in the Christian faith. I doubt back then they thought they were baptizing a future United Methodist pastor, or that they would not see that child grow up beyond age 2. Surely, other churches have had a more memorable role in my spiritual life. But Crafton UMC will always hold a special place in my heart. I will always be thankful of this community of believers and the commitment they made on behalf of the church universal when I remember my baptism.

Election Day Prayer

2010-11-02T09:33:00.003-04:00

Under your law we live, great God,
and by your will we govern ourselves.
Help us as good citizens
to respect neighbors whose views differ from ours,
so that without partisan anger,
we may work out issues that divide us,
and elect candidates to serve the common welfare;
through Jesus Christ the Lord. Amen.

From the Book of Common Prayer

Name Change and Redesign

2010-10-25T11:11:00.004-04:00

Let me take a moment to explain the name change on the blog. The previous name, The Blog That Saved Pittsburgh, was meant to be a play on the old Dr. J movie called, The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh. I've never seen the movie, mostly because it sounds like an awful waste of 2 hours, but I thought I was clever at the time I set this blog up. However, I failed to take into account how obscure this movie really is, so most people took the name of this blog to be heretical narcissism. Neither me nor my blog are saving anyone in the Pittsburgh area, from sin or bad basketball. Let's leave that to Jesus and Julius.

Hence, the new name, and with it a snazzy re-design. Last week, I had a colleague call me a "closet charismatic." He explained that when we think of a charismatic Christian, we think of a hand-waving, praise-song singing enthusiast. But that is not how I often worship. I'm more contemplative, which is a nice way of saying that I'm lost in thought all the time. But he said that even though I'm quiet, he can tell that I'm always seeking to praise God with all that I do and all that I am. I'm a charismatic at heart, but it's hidden behind a veneer of peaceful silence.

It is one of the best compliments anyone has ever given me. Praise the Lord.

Pace

2010-10-25T10:46:00.003-04:00

Last week, I found myself on retreat in the forests of northern Pennsylvania. The retreat was mandated by the Board of Ordained Ministry, and I can't say I went into the time apart with much excitement. After all, this mandate came on the heels of a hurried and emotional week at the church, and took 2 days away from the upcoming week, ensuring busyness would greet me when I returned home. Yet, despite my murmuring and arguing about another ordination requirement, I found rest and peace during this time.

One afternoon, we were given a time of silence. I used part of that time to walk the grounds of the retreat center on that wet autumn day. My walk began at a brisk pace - remnants of my cross country days in high school, or perhaps my state of mind at the time. But then I found the retreat center's labyrinth, so I entered. Instantly, the narrow path with numerous twists and turns slowed me to a leisurely stroll.

Slower and slower, I walked the labyrinth's path, following it to the center, pausing there, then slowly retracing my steps as I followed the path back out. As I left the labyrinth, I kept walking. But something was different. My pace had remained as slow as it was inside the labyrinth.

I entered the labyrinth at a hurried pace. But the embrace of God's path slowed me down, centered me around God, and sent me back into the world at the appropriate pace. With that slower pace, I noticed things I hadn't prior to my time in the labyrinth: the babbling brook to my right, the feel of the gravel path below my feet, the beauty of the changing colors on the leaves. And it was all so beautiful.

To where are we hurrying today? Will we make time for prayer? Will we let God draw us in, bring us to our knees, and send us out again at a slower, more appropriate pace? If we cannot stop, will we at least reflect on why our life has reached the point where there's no time left for a walk with God? Will we start walking with God again until we find the right pace?

Equinox

2010-09-22T10:31:00.002-04:00

"Then God said, 'Let there be light'; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day." - Gen 1:3-5

The very first act of Creation was light. More specifically, it was the creation of days and nights, regular periods of alternating between light and darkness. And in this first act, this first evening and morning, was the creation of equinox.

Equinox, Latin for "equal night," is the word we use for the two moments each year when every part of the earth receives approximately 12 hours of sunlight and 12 hours of darkness. Every spring and every fall, we experience an equinox on this planet: equal night for everyone, every place.

Even in the first act of Creation, God is concerned with equality. The Night and Day created by God mirrors our shared lives. Most of the time, half the world is in one season, and the other half of the world is in the opposite season. Depending on where we live, we receive different amounts of sunlight and darkness. Except for the equinox.

In life, sometimes we are in the midst of prolonged light, whereas others are living in prolonged darkness. We are not promised that we will have equal amounts of celebratory moments as our neighbors, nor are we promised equality in the dark nights of life. Some of us will have a "sunnier" life, whereas others of us will have a "darker" life, a reality over which we have less control than we want to believe.

But occasionally, there are moments of equinox. In the system of Night and Day, God built in equality, even if just for two moments a year. The vernal and autumnal equinoxes are signs of God's justice, breaking into our rhythm of seasons and time twice a year. Twice a year, we are reminded that God does not play favorites.

On this day, the northern hemisphere is journeying from summer to winter, while the southern hemisphere is journeying in the opposite direction. Equinox is the point in which those journeys intersect. If even for a moment, we are in the same season. Take a moment to thank God for this gift of equal night, remembering our brothers and sisters around the world who receive the gift with us.

The Gift of Hope

2010-09-10T06:34:00.002-04:00

"It will not solve your personal troubles, give you health if you are sick, reward you with money if you are poor, or diminish your grief. But it might grant you the gift of hope." - Jimmy Cannon, sports journalist

I came across this the other day in a book I'm reading. This line was written to describe baseball, but it seems rather appropriate to our faith as well. Christ does not promise us problem solving, good health, wealth, or happiness. But he does provide us the gift of hope.

A Word on Hospitality

2010-08-19T23:59:00.003-04:00

"Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." - Hebrews 12:2

Earlier this summer, Lisa and I registered on warmshowers.org. Warm Showers is an online social network that connects touring cyclists to each other and to potential hosts along their journeys. We have friends who use this to find housing as they tour, and we would like to go on bike tours someday, so we decided to start by giving hosting a whirl.

It's odd and a little scary to host strangers in one's home, but we've become familiar enough with the tour-cycling community over the last couple years to know it's not as scary as it may seem. Also, Warm Showers does have some security built in that helps with peace of mind. We decided this would be a perfect opportunity to offer hospitality to weary travelers - an expected practice for early Christians and often written into the rules of living for monastic orders.

Wednesday night, we had our first guests, Paul and Jane from New Jersey. This lovely couple is celebrating Paul's retirement by biking from Portland, OR to Washington, D.C. As you can imagine, they're almost at the end of the road. We shared dinner and conversation, and they delighted in telling their greatest and most horrifying stories from the road - all of which seemed to happen in Montana. And by 8 am Thursday morning, as quickly as they had arrived, they pedaled into the sunrise on their tandem bike.

We couldn't have asked for more pleasant inaugural guests. Surely, not all of our guests will be as pleasant, but we look forward to the opportunity to meet and host new people. We feel blessed to be able to practice our faith in this small way in our small trail town.

Theodicy and the Pittsburgh Pirates

2010-08-09T17:00:00.003-04:00

"Finally, I think the baseball gods have looked down on us, and said, 'Enough's enough.' " -- Pirates manager John Russell, after Saturday's walk-off win

It'll take more than one exciting walk-off win to erase 2 decades of ignominy, but the divine punishment inflicted on the Pirates for all these years is about to end. That's what their manager thinks, anyway.

We remaining intelligent Pirates fans believe that it won't be long (2012?) before this team has their "Crossing the Jordan" moment, entering into a promised land of winning seasons, pennant races, playoffs, and positive national media attention. But until then, we are left to ponder the theodicy question posed by John Russell, Pirates skipper and accidental theologian:

Why would a good God allow this much suffering, for so long, to befall a once-proud National League baseball franchise? And has God finally decided to plague the Houston Astros instead?*

For starters, God is not smiting the Pirates for their cocaine and greenies culture of the 80's, or some other evil. If God always punishes evil, explain to me the Yankees. Or Ben Roethlisberger. God does not inflict suffering on the Pirates any more than God inflicts cancer on someone who hasn't been to church enough. To say that God causes pain and suffering is anti-thetical to the fundamental Christian belief that God is completely and universally morally good.

But even if God does not cause suffering, God obviously allows it to take place. Why? The simplest explanation, as played out in sports, is that life is a zero-sum game - for every winner there must be a loser. Or, perhaps it reminds us that while "God is good, all the time," the world is not and we are not. Maybe suffering is a result of human sinfulness, and we have thrown the proverbial wrench into the side of God's creation and mucked it all up. The apostle Paul offers yet another explanation:

"We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us." -- Romans 5:3-5

I don't think any of us know the full explanation as to the existence of human (and ballplayer) suffering in the world, but I also wonder if that is the point. Rather than question God's role in causing or allowing human suffering, maybe we are called to something greater. Perhaps the best thing we can do is let the suffering move us toward the hope that "does not disappoint us."

As a Pirates fan, I have hope. When that hope is someday realized, all these years of suffering will make it worth the wait.

*I am completely aware of my glib use of the word "suffering," and by no means equate the constant failings of the Pittsburgh Pirates with the real suffering in the world. As a white middle-class American, I readily admit that I haven't a clue what suffering is.

Obituary - Erik's iPod

2010-08-06T12:41:00.002-04:00

Erik's iPod, also known as "Hoeker's iPod", died on the morning of Friday, August 6, in its home in West Newton. It began having health issues on a recent vacation to the beach, and subsequent efforts to reboot and restore were unsuccessful. The iPod, one of the last of its kind, shared 7 years of music and other media with its owner, including countless exciting road trips. It enjoyed shuffle mode, music by the Clarks and Eagles, NPR podcasts, and downloaded sermons. Viewing hours for a replacement iPod will be Friday afternoon at the Best Buy in Greensburg, PA. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations of music files be made to the replacement iPod.

Permission Granted

2010-08-02T08:51:00.002-04:00

Here at First UMC of West Newton, the time-honored way of celebrating Communion is by kneeling at the altar rail to receive the bread and cup. We celebrate with small cubes of homemade bread and the "shot glass" distribution of the juice.

When I first arrived here, I was struck by the extreme passivity of the parishioners in this sacrament. They would not do anything unless directed by the pastor. They stand at the altar and stare at me or their shoelaces, waiting for the imperative to "kneel as you are able." Then they receive the bread and cup, but will not eat or drink until the pastor gives some verbal cue to do so. The first time I presided over Communion here was a bit awkward, as I had not prepared to give such directives. I did not expect pastoral ministry would require me to boss people around in the celebration of a sacrament. I'm not the type of person who particularly enjoys telling other people what to do - especially in something as simple as eating a cube of bread and drinking a shot of grape juice. Who are these people, anyway? These are adults; they shouldn't need me to hold their hand and walk them through every step of Communion. Perhaps this is what the Bishop meant when he commissioned me to "Order."

But now, I'm beginning to understand. These people don't need someone to give them verbal cues. They're not waiting for permission. What's really going on here is a deep understanding of why we call it Holy Communion. These people know this isn't a frivolous monthly practice. While we ought not take Communion too seriously, we should approach it with some sense of reverence. After all, this is Jesus Christ, broken for us, poured out for us, present with us in the giving of the bread and cup. Maybe we ought not to rush into the eating and drinking, lest we suffer from spiritual indigestion. Maybe we should take our time and allow someone to tell us what we are really doing at the table, so we have time to process the magnitude of our actions.

And, this congregation also understands why it is Holy Communion. With each group of 15-20 that approaches the altar, they wait to kneel so all may kneel together. They wait to eat so all may eat together. They wait to drink so all may drink together. In this, the celebrant is not the "boss" but the conductor. I am not ordering them what to do and when. No, I'm helping them eat together, to commune. Perhaps this is the role of a pastor - to help the assembled kneel together, eat together, drink together, and pray together, so that Christ may come alive in our midst. May it be so on the first Sunday of every month, and all the days in between.

5 Things Never to Say to a Young Pastor

2010-07-09T09:07:00.003-04:00

5. So, who's the senior pastor?
Me. Contrary to popular belief, sometimes young adults can be trusted in a single pastor appointment. In fact, until recently, these appointments were quite common.

4. Oh, our kids/grandkids are your age!
The observation itself is not usually annoying, but you can see that the speakers are imagining their kids/grandkids as a pastor. This often leads to them realizing that their kids would not be a good pastor because they see them as: a)irresponsible, b)not into religion or its traditions, c)still kids even though they're adults, or d)all of the above. They then associate you with all of these things, and start doubting whether or not someone their kids or grandkids' age has any wisdom to share.

3. I'm sure you're great with the youth!
Age has less to do with being gifted in youth ministry than one might think. Some young adults, many of my friends included, are great at youth ministry. Others, myself included, are not. In fact, my father is more gifted in youth ministry than I am. I love the youth, I enjoy hanging out with them, teaching them, and learning from them, but I'm not gifted in youth ministry. Not all young adults are.

2. Oh, so you're going to do contemporary worship/get rid of our traditions/kick out the old people?!
Nope. Just because you think younger people hate everything you love and love everything you hate doesn't always mean they do.

1. You're too young to be a pastor.
Thanks. In one sentence, you have completely invalidated my choice of vocation. How is this any less offensive than telling a 60 year old, "You're too old to be an administrative assistant"?

Looking for a Savior

2010-06-16T15:59:00.002-04:00

Finally, the day is here. Pedro Alvarez, the Pirates top prospect, will make his Pittsburgh Pirates debut tonight. Here's a taste of what he offers:

The entire city awaits with anticipation. He has long been touted as the "savior" of the franchise, and the expectations are such that one would hardly be surprised to see him riding into town on a white stallion, performing daring feats of rescue, or turning everyone's hot dogs into filet mignon.

Alas, it is just the most recent example of a group of people looking for a savior in all the wrong places. Americans saw Barack Obama as a savior of a nation less than 2 years ago. Businesses in decline seek saviors to bring things out of the red. Even churches are not immune to such misguided thoughts, often anticipating a change in pastor will turn things around more than Jesus Christ ever would.

I'm excited that Pedro is here, but the fact is he's going to have days where he's 0-4 with 3 K's - maybe starting with tonight. He's going to make errors at 3rd that cost us the game. He's going to hit into crippling double plays. And even if he blossoms into an All-Star slugger, that will probably take a few years to materialize. I'm as excited as anyone about seeing him play in the Bigs, but let's not expect him to be perfect. Let's remember that the savior of the world he is not. That job is already taken.

On Fire With Enthusiasm

2010-05-25T09:58:00.004-04:00

"Catch on fire with enthusiasm, and people will come for miles to watch you burn." - John Wesley

On Sunday, I confirmed 4 young women in our congregation. As part of our confirmation classes, I took them to our United Methodist Conference Center, where they met our bishop. While there, they learned about Imagine No Malaria, the UMC campaign to eradicate malaria by 2015. The bishop told them that for just $10, an insecticide-treated bed net can be sent to a family, thus saving a life from malaria.

After leaving the bishop's office, 2 of our confirmands pulled out $10 bills and pleaded for me to allow them to run back into his office to give him a donation. The other 2 confirmands begged me to lend them $10 so they could do the same thing. All it took was a few minutes with the bishop, and these 4 young women were ready to save the world from malaria.

It gets better. The following Sunday, one of the confirmands came in with a wad of cash in her hand. "Here you go," she said. "It's half of the money I got for my birthday as gifts this week. Can you give this to the bishop for the malaria thing?"

We adults think we're hot stuff with our 10% tithing, and here's a teenager ready to give half of her birthday money to help people halfway around the world. With these 4 confirmands, you'll never hear me call them the future leaders of the church. No, they're leaders of the church right now. They've allowed themselves to catch on fire with enthusiasm, caring enough for all God's children that they will give generously from their many blessings.

Now, they're leading a 4 week event in our congregation to raise money for Imagine No Malaria. It was a privilege to confirm them on Sunday, allowing them to profess their faith in Christ, to stand on their own as members of Christ's church, and to be so caught on fire by the Holy Spirit on Pentecost Sunday that people will come for miles to help these young, vibrant leaders eradicate Malaria.

Two

2010-05-24T08:22:00.003-04:00

Two years ago, I married the most wonderful woman in the world. Life has been nothing short of amazing over these two years. In that time, we've hiked through mountains, beaches, cliffs, canyons, and volcanoes together. We've attended baseball, football, basketball, and hockey games. We've seen plays, musicals, and concerts. We've traveled to urban centers of civilization, and escaped into uninhabited landscapes. We've shared the joys of marriage and new birth in the lives of siblings and friends. We've begun a new life together in West Newton. I am amazed at the memories we've made in such a short period of time.

But perhaps the best memories of all are the less spectacular ones. Sitting on the porch swing and listening to the ballgame on the radio. Taking an evening walk through town. Watching old movies. Standoffs about who must do the dishes. Laughing for hours at our ridiculous cats. Staging epic ping-pong battles for the best prize of all: bragging rights. Tripping over each other every night as we brush our teeth in our incredibly small bathroom.

It's been a great 2 years, and I am just as madly in love with Lisa Joy Lindquist Hoeke as I was the day I met her - the freshman girl bold enough to hang a Terrible Towel on her dorm room door in the heart of Cleveland Browns territory. We share an anniversary with two couples in our congregation: one celebrating 35 years of marriage today, the other celebrating 60 years. Here's hoping we make it through another 58 years.

Punctuation

2010-05-19T19:04:00.003-04:00

Today, I drove by a restaurant whose sign currently reads, "Let's Go Bucs?" At first, I thought perhaps someone mistakenly put a question mark where there should be an exclamation point. But then, I realized that it was probably meant to be mocking sarcasm of the local baseball team, as has been customary for years in this area. So I began to wonder what message the punctuation was trying to send:

"Is this all we have to keep us going between the end of hockey season and the beginning of football season?"

"Seeing as all the inexplicably popular but mediocre (at best) players have been traded away, who are these guys?"

"Are the Pirates going to move to a new city?"

Everyone knows by now that the Pirates are one big question mark. Some people find hope in that question mark, and others find only despair. But the point is, it's been a long, long, long time since we've had a baseball team worth exclamations -- whether you look at the 30 years and counting without a title, or the 17 years and counting without a winning record.

The Bible was originally written and transcribed sans punctuation. This means that the punctuation marks of scripture are actually interpretations of the text. So, when we read John 20:16, for instance, and we hear Mary say, "Rabbouni!" (which means teacher), it means that someone in the annals of history interpreted Mary's words as an exclamation. But what if it was a question? What if Mary wasn't so sure this gardener was her beloved Jesus?

Our own encounters with Jesus are punctuated as well. Sometimes, we see the presence of Jesus in our lives, and we can hardly hold back as we exclaim, "Rabbouni!" Other times, we sense his presence, but we're not sure if it really is our Lord and Savior, so we curiously ask, "Rabbouni?" And then there are times that Jesus is simply there, and in our need for comfort and rest, we breathe a sigh of relief: "Rabbouni." Finally, there might be times that our encounter with Jesus opens us up into a deeper discovery, a new understanding, or the beginning of a sacred story, and we expectantly whisper, "Rabbouni..."

Whatever punctuation is placed on your faith today, I pray that you have encountered the Risen Christ today. For the Christian, every day is Easter. Every day is the day of resurrection.

The Five Families

2010-04-18T16:08:00.003-04:00

On Tuesday, at our Vacation Bible School planning meeting, the VBS director kept talking about "The Five Families." The curriculum calls for splitting children into families, and she thinks we'll probably have five families, based on the number of kids we usually have. At one point, she looked at me and said, "What? Why do you keep smiling every time I talk about the five families?"

Laughing, I replied, "Every time you mention 'The Five Families', I think of The Godfather. It sounds like we're doing Mafia VBS." My response was met with complete uncomfortable silence, as I quickly realized I was the only male in the room.

I was the only person in the room that was not alive when The Godfather was first released, yet apparently I was the only person who had ever seen it, or any of the trilogy for that matter. I need more guy friends.

What Tiger Woods and Ben Roethlisberger can teach us

2010-04-09T21:45:00.003-04:00

This weekend, Tiger Woods is playing competitive golf for the first time since his adulterous habits became front page news. Whether or not you plan to watch him play golf, chances are you have your opinions about Tiger’s personal life. It is well known that he has cheated on his wife often, a serious moral transgression in the eyes of many.

This Monday, charges may be filed against Ben Roethlisberger, who is being accused of sexually assaulting a 20 year old woman in early March. Whether or not you watch football, you probably know that Roethlisberger is one of the stars of the NFL, a 2-time Super Bowl winning quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers. This is the second time in less than a year that allegations of sexual assault or rape have surfaced around Roethlisberger, and it adds to the growing list of recent off-field troubles surrounding Steelers’ players.

Tiger and Roethlisberger’s incidents have garnered a great deal of attention over the last several months. They are viewed as just further evidence that athletes and celebrities live wild, entitled, out-of-control lives with no consequences. “These pro athletes just do whatever they want,” I recently heard someone say of Roethlisberger.

But the real problems we should be discussing do not lie with Tiger, Big Ben, or any other high profile athlete. We shouldn’t be concerned that Tiger seems to have little regard for the sacred covenant of marriage. We should be concerned that millions of other men and women break that covenant daily, committing acts just as egregious as Tiger but without the press coverage.

And we shouldn’t be poring over the news each day wondering what happened in the bathroom of a college bar between Roethlisberger and a 20 year old woman. We shouldn’t just be skewering Roethlisberger as a man that allegedly feels he’s entitled to have his way with the body of another person without regard for consent. We should be worried about all the other men (and women) in the world that mistakenly assume that they too are entitled to such self-pleasing actions.

While we’re at it, we also shouldn’t be worried about the reports of domestic abuse that surfaced around this time 2 years ago involving Steelers’ star linebacker James Harrison. We should be worried about the domestic abuse and violence that takes place every day, but is never reported by the newspapers (and sometimes not even by the victims).

Don’t misunderstand me. Tiger’s actions are reprehensible. The allegations against Roethlisberger, if true, are utterly intolerable. I don’t mean to excuse their actions (or alleged actions) in the least. However, it is important that we let the implications of these stories sink in a little more deeply. I fear that too often, we hold such activity at arm’s length. It is those entitled athletes that commit adultery. It is those young rich football players that have their way with women. It is those people with too much money and time on their hands that use and abuse other people.

Too often, we allow ourselves to believe that such things only happen in some faraway fantasyland, where the rich and famous live and play. But chances are, someone on your block has committed or is committing adultery. Whether you realize it or not, someone you know has probably been a victim of sexual assault. And it is highly likely that no matter how small your church or workplace may be, you probably have a victim or perpetrator of domestic abuse sitting not too far away. It is not just those celebrities that we don't know, but also the people that we do know.

So, if we learn anything from the recent reports of immoral and/or criminal behavior among star athletes, it is that such things happen all around us. No matter where we live, these problems are present. And we must face these injustices, whether we encounter them on the front page or the neighbor’s backyard. These issues are serious. They are real. They are very dark corners in our very broken world, not just in the public eye, but in the places in which we live, work, and play. I pray that we may remember that these things do not just happen among the rich and famous, but also happen among us. I pray that we then may be able to find ways to shine Christ’s light in the darkness, helping us to be in ministry with the victims and perpetrators of such activity, so that we may one day live in a world where such injustices do not exist.

He Is Risen

2010-04-04T05:48:00.001-04:00

"Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen." - Luke 24:5

A New World Order

2010-03-29T18:22:00.003-04:00

For most of my life, the Pittsburgh Pirates have been awful - a symbol of incompetency both on and off the field. They have spent the better part of 2 decades as the worst run and worst performing franchise in the history of professional sports. And, for most of my life, the Steelers have been wonderful - a symbol of success and class both on and off the field. For almost a half century, the Steelers have been a source of great pride. They have been a franchise worth looking up to in every way.

I used to love when football season came around, because the Steelers provided a welcome distraction from hearing all the bad news of the Pirates. Now, I find myself embracing the start of baseball season as a welcome distraction from the current free fall of the Steelers. Much of that pride and class is gone, and I'm really sick of hearing about the daily messes created by these spoiled frat boys called Pittsburgh Steelers. It's becoming clear that no matter how bad the Pirates may be this season, they will not disappoint me nearly as much as the Steelers have in recent months and years.

Let's Go Bucs!

Now I'm out of the office pool!!!

2010-03-25T06:40:00.005-04:00

Courtesy of my old roomie, Michael Goodman. Hilarious.

Closing Hymn

2010-03-08T17:35:00.005-05:00

Deep Thoughts on a Monday Afternoon
By Pastor Erik

The most important element in planning worship is the closing hymn. It's what congregants sing, hum, or whistle as they leave the house of the Lord and re-enter the world in which they live. They take that closing hymn with them to the diner down the street, to the grocery store across town, to their child's soccer game, or to mother's Sunday dinner back home. The closing hymn, if chosen well, can be a sermon that keeps on preaching the whole day long. Pastors and worship planners would do well to thoughfully and seriously take up the task of choosing the closing melodies and lyrics of worship; the Sunday afternoon of the faithful depends on it.

Mercy and Judgment

2010-03-08T15:10:00.003-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, March 7, 2010
Third Sunday in Lent
Scripture: Luke 13:1-9

This morning’s passage from the Gospel of Luke is quite an interesting bit of scripture, isn’t it? Here in the 13th chapter, we find a Jesus on his way to Jerusalem, and as Lutheran scholar Kae Evenson puts it, he is “railing against this and that and then telling an odd story about a fig tree.”

The “railing against this and that” is Jesus’ response to a crowd eager to magnify the sins of other people. As we gather from Jesus’ response, there seems to be good motivation for drawing attention toward the sinfulness of persecuted Galileans or laborers of Jerusalem. The crowd’s hope is that in pointing out the sinfulness of “those other people,” the sinfulness of the speakers themselves will be overlooked, forgotten, or merely seen as trifling compared to those really bad sinners down the block.

And this is not the only place in scripture where we encounter an antiquated punishment/reward system based on our relative sinfulness or righteousness – a system that assumes all human blessing is reward for righteousness, and all human suffering is punishment for sins. Old Testament wisdom literature, for instance, and the book of Job in particular, spends a great deal of time addressing the subject of divine reward and punishment, divine mercy and judgment. And here in the 13th chapter of Luke, as in Job, we find a God who challenges these self-righteous attitudes – the judgment we wish on sinners worse than us, and the mercy we reserve only for ourselves. Through the words of Jesus, we are cautioned against being rash to judge the wickedness of others, and we are also cautioned against assuming that, as self-ordained “lesser sinners,” we are free from having to face the judgment that our neighbors must face.

And then, there is the odd story about a fig tree. The owner of the fig tree is ready to chop it down. It hasn’t produced fruit for 3 years, and it’s time to make room for a tree that will. “Cut it down! It’s wasting soil!” screams the owner to his gardener. This fig tree has had enough chances to bear fruit, and it has wasted those chances. But on the tree’s behalf, the gardener pleads for mercy, asking the owner to give this poor little fig tree one more chance to bear fruit. And the owner displays mercy to the tree – gives it yet another chance to bear fruit.

Isn’t it nice to be a tree? Taken on its own, this parable assures us that even when we’re fruitless fig trees, God still gives us more chances than we deserve to grow into the productive trees we’re called to be. But unfortunately, this “odd story about a fig tree” is told in the same meeting, in the same context, and in the same breath as the “railing against this and that.” And it’s intentionally told this way, so that we may understand that if we believe in the mercy of 2nd, 3rd, and 4th chances in our own lives, then we better believe that the same mercy is offered to our neighbors as well – the people we mistakenly label as “worse sinners.” What Jesus does here in Luke 13 is delicately hold a railing against judgment in tension with a parable about mercy, and in doing so he gives us more to think about than we can explore in a simply Sunday morning sermon – on a communion Sunday, no less.

But the juxtaposition of mercy and judgment here reminds us of our propensity to apply God’s judgment to the sins of others, while at the same time applying God’s mercy to our own sins. We turn up our noses in self-righteousness at the sins of others, contemplating how we can throw scripture in their faces to warn them of a wrathful God, lightning bolt in hand, ready to inflict judgment on them at a moment’s notice. And then we continue on our way to church, where we pray, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And then we thank God for the grace and mercy that wipes away our sin.

But then one day, we stumble upon Jesus’ words in Luke 13, and he challenges us to look at things from a different perspective. Rather than focusing on the judgment of others, perhaps we should start thinking that we may be judged just as harshly, if not more harshly, than our neighbors. And rather than holding onto mercy as if it’s something that we own, something that we’ve purchased, perhaps it might be a good idea to plead for mercy on behalf of our sinful neighbors as well.
All too often, we paint a picture of a judging God examining others, and a merciful God examining ourselves. But the God of scripture and the God that is present with us this morning is not a one-dimensional God. Our God gives out both judgment and mercy, when God wills, to whomever God wills, and however God wills. And God’s son harmonizes the story of judgment and the story of mercy in this morning’s text, creating one new story: a story that journeys from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, ending with death on a cross leading to an empty grave.

Jesus knows that both judgment and mercy are essential to his story. He knows that to omit either would be to tell a story different than the good news. To speak of judgment without mercy or mercy without judgment would be as empty as celebrating Easter without a preceding Good Friday, or celebrating a Good Friday with no Easter on the horizon. It would be as incomplete as tasting the blood of Christ’s death without also tasting the bread of Christ’s life, or vice versa. For the Christian story is a paradoxical one – one that celebrates both death and life, tastes both bread and cup, and proclaims both judgment and mercy.

But, we must be clear that the judgment of which we speak is God’s judgment, and the mercy which we desire is God’s mercy. No judgment we make on our own sins or the sins of another has any significance, and any mercy we proclaim for ourselves or for others is wasted soil. As Christ calls us to “repent or perish” on this Third Sunday in Lent, we are reminded by his words that God’s judgment is what makes repentance necessary, and God’s grace and mercy is what makes it possible.

This is a story of judgment and mercy, of repentance and forgiveness, of death and life. This is the Gospel story, that paradoxical story in which our God uses death on a cross to bring us new life. Thanks be to God for holding us all accountable with judgment, and for offering the mercy that saves us from getting what each one of us sinners deserves. For we all deserve harsher judgment than we can bear, and we all are given greater mercy than we could ever imagine. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sadness and Joy

2010-02-25T08:56:00.004-05:00

It was a bitterly cold Sunday morning in early February. I dragged myself out of bed early that day and headed out to pick up Dan and Will, two of my best friends. On a typical Sunday, we’d all be heading off to church, but this Sunday was different. On this particular winter morning, we granted ourselves a special dispensation from attending church, so we could head downtown to witness a historical moment in the history of the city of Pittsburgh. With coffee and donuts in hand, we stood on the banks of the Allegheny River, right under the Sixth Street Bridge, and watched this.

And just like that, Three Rivers Stadium, home of the Pirates and Steelers for over 30 years, was gone. All three of us spent much of our childhood attending baseball and football games at Three Rivers. For all of us, our formative memories as sports enthusiasts took place there, our fathers toting us there from the time we could walk, teaching us about these wonderful games that gave us such joy.

There we were, ready to watch our childhood home turn into a pile of rubble. As the time of implosion drew near, we shared stories of our childhood visits to Three Rivers. Together, we lamented the loss of something that meant so much to us. But as the morning wore on, our eyes began to be drawn away from Three Rivers and toward the new structure just across the river: PNC Park. Our sadness of losing Three Rivers began to give way to our excitement about a new, beautiful, baseball only stadium. And so it was that our emotions were tossed about that morning, alternatively weeping for what was lost and shouting for joy at what the future held. Dan was more excited than sad, but Will and I were still more sad than excited. But together, we stood there and watched as our past was torn down, and the future called us in.

In Ezra 3:10-13, we hear a very similar story: the beautiful story of the Israelites laying a foundation for rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem. As the foundation was laid, the community came out to celebrate the completion of the first phase of the rebuilding process. And as we hear, some were reminded of the previous temple, and wept at the loss of what they once held so dear. Others shouted for joy, energized by the prospect of what was in store in the future. But in this holy moment, the shouts of grief and the shouts of joy came together as one sound, “so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people’s weeping.”

I suspect that some of us in the Christian Church may identify with the weepers – those who mourn the loss of former glory, those who fondly remember the wonderful religious heritage that has preceded us. It is a heritage from which we all have come, one that formed and shaped the church we see today.

And, I suspect there are also some of us who identify with the joyful shouters – those who are energized and excited about what the future holds, those who might even look on religious heritage and say, “Good riddance!”

The reality is that most of us are probably somewhere in between. Many of us lament the loss of what we had as the body of Christ, but are also excited about what we might yet have. But what’s so interesting about this story in Ezra is that everyone – both the tearful and the joyful – are there. Whether they celebrate the foundation being laid or they shed tears over it, all are here to support the rebuilding of the temple. Whether they want the temple rebuilt in this way or not, they care enough to show up. And in a beautiful, spirit-filled moment, all the shouts of lament and shouts of joy blend into a single shout, and it becomes impossible to distinguish the tearful from the joyful. It is one body, with one voice, coming from one past, marching into one future.

What a beautiful model for facing the uncertain future that is before us now. What an example these Israelites provide for us – whether we long for the past or we wish to race energetically into the future, it is time to become one voice. It is time to balance each other out, for each of us to add to the one sound, rooting ourselves in the past but also embracing the future that lies ahead.

If you are a weeper, we need you to remind us of the glorious past that got us here. And if you are a joyful shouter, we need you to show us the way into the future. It is time to become that one voice, where no individual is silenced, where each one of us contributes to a joyful noise in praise of the Lord.

So, whether we weep or shout for joy or fall somewhere in between, let us all praise the Lord with our voices. Let us honor the reality that we have different voices, and we all may view the past and future a little differently, but if here in the present we center ourselves on the Lord, those many voices will combine as one voice, even if just for one moment. So let us cry. Let us shout. Let us praise God together.

And are we yet alive,
And see each others face?
Glory and thanks to Jesus give
For his almighty grace!

What troubles have we seen,
What mighty conflicts past,
Fightings without, and fears within,
Since we assembled last.

Does God make the schedule for MLB?

2010-02-17T21:16:00.003-05:00

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Today is also the first day of Major League Baseball's Spring Training, as pitchers and catchers reported to camps at noon. Lent ends on Easter Sunday, which this year is celebrated on April 4. That also happens to be the date of baseball's opening night. So, in a crazy alignment of professional baseball scheduling and the liturgical calendar, Spring Training and Lent perfectly overlap in 2010. This made me realize just how much these two seasons of preparation have in common. Without further ado, the top 5 ways Spring Training and Lent are similar:

5. I look forward to them both.

4. We turn our eyes upon Jesus, as well as Jesus.

3. Both are times of intense examination.

2. Both consist of purging what is bad and calling up what is good.

1. Both end with the hope-filled celebration of a new beginning.

Mr. Winter is not a benevolent deity

2010-02-10T11:43:00.003-05:00

Our power went out again yesterday afternoon, just before the new storm arrived. I escaped just in time, plodding along snowy roads at 25 mph all the way to my parents' house. Lisa met me there after work, and we became "homeless" freeloaders once again. Our house got power back last night, but we still haven't made it back.

Lisa went to work today in our Subaru, so I'm still stuck at my parents' house with our Corolla. The way the roads are, I won't make it back in that little front-wheel drive car. There's too many gigantic hills between here and there that it surely will not climb, no matter how much it thinks it can.

It's a good thing I brought my laptop with me, and a really good thing my dad is also a pastor, so I can borrow his resources and at least get some work done. Meanwhile, we're making up our plan as we go from hour to hour, constantly monitoring weather reports and road conditions. This is the worst storm I've ever lived through, and it is absolutely, certifiably crazy. I'm someone who lives almost completely by routines and rituals, so all this is really a challenge for me. Normally I love winter and snow, but right now I'm not excited about all the interruptions and the plans going awry. Still, thanks be to God that for us, it's merely been a week of inconvenience. It seems like most people are getting by just fine as well...for now. There's no telling what the next hour, day, or week will bring.

Punxsy Phil Was Indeed Correct

2010-02-08T12:10:00.002-05:00

As you've probably heard by now, the "6 more weeks of winter" kicked off this weekend with quite a snowstorm in the mid-Atlantic. Here in Southwestern PA, the 21 inches of snow in less than a 24 hour period made for the 4th largest single storm in the history of the region. Another storm is apparently on its way with a pedestrian 5 inches expected Tuesday night. Reports say that over a hundred thousand households in this region alone lost power for an extended period of time starting late Friday night. Our church and parsonage, along with more than half of our town, was part of that statistic.

We were fortunate enough to have only about 44 hours without power (and thus, heat), in our home and at the church over the weekend. Many are still without power, but it seems like both Allegheny Power and Duquesne Light are working quickly to restore power, hopefully before this next storm. As far as I know, all of our congregation survived or is surviving without injury or much property damage, although many are scrambling to prevent bursting pipes after they froze over Saturday night when the temperatures dipped into negative.

Lisa and I have found the entire ordeal to be quite an adventure. As much as possible, we tried to make the most of the situation. Saturday morning we woke up to no power, but our house was still 63 degrees inside -- not any different than a normal winter morning. We walked over to the church and shoveled snow there for about 2 hours, then returned home for another half hour of shoveling. We then spent the afternoon reading, napping, and eating whatever we could in the fridge that was in danger of spoiling. For dinner, we couldn't cook anything because our stove is electric. But fortunately, the church has a gas stove. So, we went to the church and made dinner over there, cooking and eating with the help of flashlights and electric camping lanterns.

We called around to spread word that church was canceled on Sunday, and returned to our then 54 degree home for some board games and yes, ice cream - it was the only way to save it! We turned on all the faucets overnight to avoid frozen pipes, which in hindsight probably saved us from burst pipes. We pulled out our down sleeping bags and had a nice warm night of sleep in them. But, when we woke up Sunday morning, our house was down to 34 degrees. Thinking it wasn't the best idea to spend the day in that environment, we ventured out on the still icy roads for brunch in a warm restaurant. When we returned home, it had risen to 36 degrees, but still too cold to stay in. Plus, how would we watch the Super Bowl???

Fortunately, many of our parishioners live on the west side of town, where most homes had power. One family had offered to let us stay with them as long as needed, so by Sunday afternoon we decided to take them up on their offer. We packed up our things, headed over, and took our first showers since Friday morning. We shared dinner together in a warm home, full of laughter. We played Wii and watched the Super Bowl together. It was nothing less than extravagant hospitality, and we were very fortunate to have such a wonderful family open up their home to us in our "time of need." As a pastor, I typically spend a lot of my time being there for others, serving them in their own times of need. It was strange to be on the other side of that for once, being the one served rather than the one serving.

Finally, we returned to our home at 10 pm Sunday night after hearing from a neighbor that power had come back on around 7 pm. The house was still 48 degrees, but definitely warm enough to live in again. We went to bed dreaming of waking up to a fully heated home. And when we arose this morning, we were back up to 63 degrees in the home! Thanks be to God!

Today, many people are still without power, and some are furiously battling frozen pipes in danger of bursting. A neighboring United Methodist Church is currently assessing their broken boiler, which it appears will need to be replaced. We're not out of the storm just yet, the roads are still sheets of ice in many places, and another storm is on its way. But in these adventures of winterland, I cannot help but think of how fortunate we are. I've used that word a lot in my description of the weekend, because that's how I felt and continue to feel. We are lucky. We are fortunate. We are blessed.

Thank God that our "emergency" means that for almost everyone around here, life will return to normal within a week's time. In the midst of our storm (literal and figurative), I continue to remember those who are still recovering from truly devastating disasters -- ones from years ago, as well as those in Haiti who have become homeless for more than the day or two we were "homeless."

Personally, Lisa and I are very blessed that our abundance has made this no more than a 2 day inconvenience where our biggest worry was, "How will we watch the Super Bowl?" I am grateful for the hospitality that many people have extended to their neighbors, including that which we received. I am grateful for the men and women who continue to work around the clock to repair power lines and get electric back to as many people as possible in what has thus far been a miraculously short period of time. I am also thankful for those who continue to work hard to keep the roads as clear as possible. Both snow plow drivers and power company workers have probably had very little time for rest over the last few days, and their families probably have not seen much of them at all. What services they provide, services that we so often take for granted! It is times like these that remind us how truly blessed we are to have electric in our homes and businesses, as well as clear roads, and it is because of others that we do have these luxuries. Thanks be to God!

The Sacred Narrative of Baseball

2010-01-25T16:01:00.003-05:00

About a month ago, Lisa and I made the switch to Directv as our cable provider. As part of that switch, we acquired the MLB Network as part of our channel lineup. The MLB Network is, in a word, heaven on a television screen. It provides baseball programming 24/7/365. As a huge baseball fan, I have enjoyed the new opportunities that exist for my viewing pleasure, including but not limited to:

- Prime 9: A countdown show listing the top 9 of a particular subject - catchers, characters of the game, pitching seasons, clutch hitters, etc.

- World Series highlights: so far, I've only watched the Pirates' colossal upset of the Yankees in the 1960 Series, capped off by Maz's walk-off home run in game 7.

- Studio 42 with Bob Costas: A diminuitive baseball fan who also happens to be a respected TV journalist sitting down with legends of the game and asking them to reminisce.

But more than anything, I've come to adore the network's airing of classic MLB games, ones that stand out as historic moments in America's National Pastime. The Pine Tar Game with George Brett and Billy Martin. The Carlton Fisk Game: Game 6 of the 1975 World Series. And currently, through the wonders of DVR, I'm slowly making my way through Game 7 of the 1991 World Series, where an aging Jack Morris faces a young John Smoltz in a pitching duel for the ages.

I know how this game ends. After Jack Morris pours his heart and soul into 10 innings of shutout ball, besting Smoltz's 8 shutout innings, the Twins finally push across a run with a pinch hit fly ball single by Gene Larkin, thus winning 1-0 and becoming world champions. I vaguely remember this scintillating World Series from my childhood, and now I am re-living it thanks to MLB Network. But why, you may ask, am I watching a game that was played 18 years ago, a game that has no element of surprise left, one that I know how it ends?

I watch it for the same reason I read stories in scripture time and time again. Historic baseball games, while memorable games standing by themselves, remind me that each game is part of a larger narrative, the sacred narrative of baseball. Game 7 of the 1991 Series is a great pitcher's duel, but it also signifies a moment cut out of the long story of baseball history, a story much longer and larger than the career of any man who has ever played the game.

In this particular game, we see a young Braves team, led this night by some kid named John Smoltz, a man who today in 2010 is perhaps at the end of a hall-of-fame career. The Braves here are a team on the rise, one that loses here in 1991 but will be back to the playoffs every non-strike-shortened season from this point through 2005. Brian Hunter looks like a middle schooler in this game. Chipper and Andruw have yet to arrive in the "Show." Even Bobby Cox looks much younger and leaner. Yet, Leo Mazzone sits next to him on the bench, rocking back and forth like always.

In the other dugout is the Twins, and they too are symbolized by their starting pitcher. Jack Morris is, in 1991, at the twilight of a very good career, one defined by tenacity, competitiveness, and an unwillingness to give in, even to manager Tom Kelly as he tries to remove him from this final game of the season. The Twins enjoyed success in the late 80's and early 90's, led by Kent Hrbek and Kirby Puckett. But as seen by the makeup of the 1991 team, a youth movement is beginning: Chuck Knoblauch at 2nd, Chili Davis at DH, and Scott Erickson emerging as a force in the rotation.

In this seventh game of the 1991 World Series, clearly the focus is on the starting pitchers. But on the edges, subplots catch my eye, moments that remind me how this one piece of baseball history is delicately woven into the sacred tapestry of baseball's history. It is for this reason that I enjoy watching classic games like this one. As a student of the game, through these memorable moments I begin to understand the larger narrative more fully. It is much like reading the book of Job as its own piece of literature, and then reflecting on how it fits into the larger narrative of humanity's relationship with the divine, or reading the stories of Jesus' birth as great stories of origins, and recognizing how it weaves together Old and New Testament texts almost seamlessly.

Above all, both scripture and classic baseball games remind me that we are all in the process of discovering our place in the narrative of humanity and its relationship with the divine. We seek and discern our call within the narrative, recognizing that we may not fully realize our role until our labors are a distant memory. But we dig into the batter's box nonetheless, anticipating the known yet unknown - we know there will be a pitch, but we know not what form that pitch will take. We swing the bat with all our might, hoping to make a connection - perhaps even one that will deliver us home for a celebration that will live on forever. And we circle the bases of life, wondering why we are here on this night, performing this task, and how it advances this over-arching story that envelops us all.

Jubilee

2010-01-25T09:53:00.002-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, January 24, 2010
Scriptures: Leviticus 25:8-12, Luke 4:14-21

Lithuanians love basketball. So when our mission team arrived in the summer of 2000 to a United Methodist church in the slums of Kaunas, one of our first orders of business was replacing their old basketball hoop. In the parking lot of the church was an old, dilapidated basketball hoop. The frame was rusty, the backboard half missing, the net completely missing, and the rim was severely bent down due to years of slam dunk abuse. Yet the neighborhood teens played on – it was this hoop or nothing. But we Americans would not stand for such terrible athletic equipment, so we bought them a brand new hoop. The rest of our 2 weeks there, countless hours were spent in pickup basketball games between us and the neighborhood teenagers. Sometimes we played Americans vs. Lithuanians, sometimes we mixed it up. They trash talked us in Lithuanian, and we trash talked back in English, neither side understanding the other but all of us busting up laughing. And with this being my first trip out of the country, I distinctly remember being amazed at the connections we made on that basketball court despite the many differences between us. We were Americans from the suburbs of Pittsburgh, and they were Lithuanians from the slums of Kaunas. We were from different cultures, spoke different languages, ate different food, participated in different local customs. In many ways, we just didn’t connect with each other. But we quickly found that, all of us being around the same age, we enjoyed many of the same things – trash talking on the basketball court, hanging out with friends, chasing girls. And, if it wasn’t for a common connection to Jesus Christ through the United Methodist Church, we probably would never have met. And with those pickup basketball games, where cultural and language barriers threatened to divide us, we all shared sacred moments of fellowship with people that lived half a world away from us.

Seminarians love to argue. I remember many class periods when debates and arguments raged on for long periods of time. We’d debate the divinity of Christ. We’d argue over theology until we were blue in the face. We’d disagree over the proper way to minister with the poor. We’d challenge each other on ethical and moral issues. And arguments of all kinds would often spill out of the classroom and into the hallway, the courtyard, or the student lounge. But there was one place that those debates and arguments never happened: Cannon Chapel. Our worship space was used for more than worship, but we never used it as a forum for debate. No, we knew that a sanctuary was just that – a safe space. It was a space set apart as sacred, way too sacred to defile with our petty squabbles with each other.

The rhythm of a typical day at our seminary included morning classes leading up to an 11:00 worship service, followed by lunch, then a slew of afternoon classes. I always loved worship in seminary. We would spend mornings with each other debating and arguing the topic of the day, knowing that in large part our debates were fueled by all the differences among us. We had students from all around the world. We had students of all different Christian denominations. We were a smorgasboard of race, ethnicity, nationality, and culture. We had a variety of opinions, experiences, and lifestyles. We were all so different, yet we shared a desire to study and worship the one true God. I used to love the contrast between class and worship. One minute, we’d be arguing with each other over a theological tenet that seemed to take on ultimate importance, and the next minute we’d be singing “Marching to Zion” side by side. In the morning, we’d admit that we didn’t always understand or agree with each other’s life choices, but then we’d serve each other communion, and sit down to lunch together. Despite our many differences, we always found a way to rise above those barriers of race, class, culture, denomination, and lifestyle. And no matter what our relationships the rest of the day, worship was always a truly sacred time of glorifying God side by side with brothers and sisters in Christ.

The people of Haiti have suffered yet another great tragedy. I’ve been amazed these last couple of weeks how much people have been willing to reach out to the people of Haiti. I wish that we had all been better about it before the earthquake, but at least people are sending aid to the Haitians now. And it’s amazing how relief is coming in from all over the world, from religious as well as secular organizations, from individuals as well as governments. United Methodists are partnering with Muslims, Catholics and Protestants are singing hymns together on the streets of Port-au-Prince, and even the United States and Cuban governments have been cooperating to get aid to Haiti more quickly. In a country where a great tragedy has taken place, people are responding with sacred moments of jubilee, ignoring barriers and simply helping brothers and sisters in need.

Tibetan Buddhist monks know how to have a good time. I’ll never forget the day I learned this. The late afternoon sun was shining beautifully on the quad of Emory University, and in the patch of grass between the theological library and the ancient artifact museum, we were holding a fiercely competitive ultimate Frisbee game. As usual, we had to dodge all the passerby on the sidewalks, but on this particular day, there was one group of passerby we just couldn’t ignore. It was a group of 3 Tibetan Buddhist monks, complete with their traditional red and yellow robes and shaved heads. As the monks approached, they looked upon our Frisbee game with great interest. So, we invited them to play Frisbee with us. For the next 5 or 10 minutes, we just jogged around throwing the Frisbee back and forth with these Buddhist monks. There was a cultural barrier, a language barrier, a religious barrier, and even a wardrobe barrier, but we took a break from our competitive game and simply played with the monks. We pretended to play a real game, but the rules were suspended, and we weren’t keeping score or anything. But I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in my life. It was, in one word, awesome. It was truly a sacred moment that I will never forget.

I’m guessing that the people who attended the synagogue in Nazareth on the day Jesus got up and spoke experienced an unforgettable moment as well. The hometown boy has returned, and is asked to read scripture in worship. He chooses Isaiah 61, and reads the following:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
Because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives,
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To let the oppressed go free,
To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. Now the year of the Lord’s favor is a reference to the year of jubilee, which according to Leviticus was to be celebrated every 50th year. The year of jubilee was defined by many of the things proclaimed in this passage: good news for the poor, release to captives, freedom from oppression. The year of jubilee was a time when families were reunited, all debts were forgiven, and slaves were freed. For the year of jubilee, everyone was equal. The barriers that usually got in the way of human relationships – finances, disagreements, and exerting power over one another – were wiped clean. Every 50th year, jubilee was celebrated, and as it says in Leviticus, it was a very holy time. In the year of jubilee, people were, for a brief time, lifted above the barriers that separated them into a sacred moment of joy and fellowship with each other.

Here in the 4th chapter of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus has come to proclaim jubilee once again. Empowered by the Holy Spirit, he has come to wipe away all debts, eliminate our relationships of power with each other, put away all our disagreements, and reunite us with each other and with God. He has come to usher in God’s kingdom, available for everyone, and he announces to the worshippers that the kingdom of God will look a lot like the year of jubilee. The kingdom of God is defined by holy times of unencumbered relationships with each other.

That fall day when we played Frisbee with the Tibetan Buddhist monks, I remember thinking, “This is what heaven must feels like.” When I would attend worship with my classmates in seminary, I used to feel like together, we were lifted from the din of classroom arguments into a shared encounter with the divine. And over the last couple of weeks, I’ve looked upon all the relief efforts in Haiti and thought, these relief workers are truly the hands and feet of Christ. These stories I’ve shared with you are just a few examples of how, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we all experience jubilee moments in our lives from time to time.

Leviticus 25:12 defines a jubilee moment as a moment that is holy to us. Jubilee moments are holy moments, filled with the Holy Spirit, that lift us above the ordinary, above the differences, above the barriers. They are moments defined by an encounter with the divine, relating with each other simply as brothers and sisters beloved by God. They are even moments that give us glimpses of the glory of the kingdom of God. What are the jubilee moments in your life? Has the Holy Spirit led you to jubilee recently? Have you shared in holy fellowship as you’ve reunited with a group of friends? Have you put aside differences with relatives to share a meal together? Have you worshipped or served alongside someone of a different denomination? Have you played basketball with Lithuanians or ultimate Frisbee with a trio of Tibetan Buddhist monks?
I’d like for you to take some time to think about jubilee moments in your own life. When has the sacred lifted you above the ordinary? When have you felt the Spirit leading you into perfect relationships with your neighbors, even if just for a moment? When have you felt the presence of Jesus Christ providing you a moment defined by holiness and pure fellowship with your brothers and sisters? As you leave this place, think about your own experiences of jubilee. Write them down. Say a prayer of thanksgiving for those moments. And remember that those moments are the work of God, giving us glimpses of the kingdom of heaven by the presence of Jesus Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit.

And as you move forward, I encourage you to pay close attention for the jubilee moments in your life. Let the Holy Spirit continue to lift you at times from the ordinary and into the experience of the divine. Let Jesus usher in God’s kingdom for you, one jubilee moment at a time. For the year of the Lord’s favor is here. Let us proclaim and celebrate the jubilee moments in our lives. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

From Haiti With Love

2010-01-20T13:41:00.004-05:00

As you might know, Lisa and I have a close personal friend, Michael Ritter, who lives in Haiti. Michael graduated high school with Lisa, attended Grove City College, then got his masters from Emory University's School of Public Health in Atlanta at the same time we lived there. Michael is what I call a public health missionary in Haiti. He works through an organization called Deep Springs International, which he co-founded while attending Grove City. DSI provides sustainable clean water solutions to the people of Haiti, and it is Michael's faith in Jesus Christ that calls him to serve in such an amazing and life-affirming way.

Since last week's earthquake, Lisa and I have been in contact with Michael a few times. But, as you might expect, he is busier than ever. Clean water was sorely needed before the quake, and it is needed even more now.

So, Lisa and I have mostly kept abreast of DSI's and Michael's post-quake experiences through two sources: the DSI website, and Michael's blog. (I linked to Michael's blog in my "Anonymous" sermon posted Monday, but he posted again this morning). I encourage you to read his 2 posts from the past week, and to subscribe to DSI's e-mail list for periodic updates.

Now more than ever, we must all educate ourselves and others about the problems in Haiti -- those stemming from the earthquake, and those that have been magnified by the quake. Let's go beyond "giving and forgetting." Let's keep Haiti in our prayers and our hearts for as long as it takes for restoration and wholeness to occur.

Anonymous

2010-01-18T08:35:00.003-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, January 17, 2010
Scripture: John 2:1-11 (Jesus turns water into wine)

It’s stories like this that remind me how blessed we are to have 4 Gospels. Matthew, Mark, and Luke say nothing of Jesus’ winemaking in Cana, but thanks to John, we have the wonderful miracle story that is our Gospel lesson this morning. It shouldn’t be surprising to us, since John seems to pride himself on being the odd Gospel out, the story that’s more different than the rest. But there are things about this story that do surprise me, such as the fact that it serves as an introduction to Jesus’ ministry. The story of Jesus gracing a wedding at Cana with his presence – and his winemaking skills – is the first story John tells as the ministry of Jesus and the disciples kicks off. And what a fine story it is.

But, as tends to happen when I read scripture, I’m drawn to the lack of details that John provides. Sure, he gives us the exact number of stone jars and approximates the amount of wine for us – somewhere in the neighborhood of 150 gallons – but those details aren’t all that necessary. No, what intrigues me most about this story as we reflect on it this morning is all the details that are missing. It doesn’t take long for us to notice that the author has so carelessly neglected to mention who it is that is getting married, how many guests are there, or how far along they are in the traditional 7 day celebration.

But beyond that, John misses a chance for some real, eye-popping drama when he describes the miracle! The scene where the water is turned into wine is pretty lame, if you ask me. There is very little action that takes place. And this is surely the reason why, despite the sensational nature of turning water into wine, this story has yet to be made into a high-grossing Hollywood movie.

Open up your Bibles again and look at the story. All the dramatic moments are missing! First and foremost, the story completely skips over the actual turning of water into wine. Jesus instructs some servants to fill the jars with water, and then in the next scene, with the chief steward, the water “had become wine”! What happened? We don’t see any hand waving, mystical touching, or Greek chanting over the jars. There’s simply no “abracadabra” moment here! Jesus’ only act is to lovingly order around some poor, unsuspecting servants. Where’s the flair in that?

And for whatever reason, Jesus keeps quiet about his miracle. Not once does he take credit for his actions, nor does he insist that others recognize what he did. In fact, very few people even saw it as a miracle. Aside from the servants, the disciples, and Jesus, no one even knew a miracle had taken place. The party went on without a hiccup of any sort – no indication is ever given that the majority of the guests even realized that the wine gave out.

And I don’t know about you, but if I were Jesus I would’ve stepped up and taken credit. I mean, wasn’t he using this story to reveal his glory? According to his actions, that was not his concern at all. Think about it: The chief steward approaches the groom and commends him on his generous hospitality. Great job, son! You’ve saved the top shelf wine for late in the feast! You have provided enough wine to get the whole county drunk! Your hosting abilities speak very well of your character! And Jesus is standing there watching this whole conversation take place, the groom probably accepting the credit even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it, and Jesus says nothing! C’mon JC, get up and tell them what happened! Tell them what you did! Proclaim the miracle that took place! Reveal your glory! Well, are you going to speak up or what?!

But Jesus never says a word. So, on we go with the party, new top shelf wine flowing freely, people dancing and drinking and having a great time together, completely unaware that any divine action has taken place to allow the party to continue. This is not the grand entrance that I would have written for Jesus’ public ministry, but then again, I was not the author of the Gospel of John. Still, I just can’t get over this burning question: Why doesn’t Jesus step up? This is John’s first public appearance by Jesus, but he proclaims nothing, reveals nothing, takes credit for nothing – all he’s doing is rescuing the wedding feast of a small town in Galilee.

Like many people this week, I sat in my office on Wednesday morning, the news of the earthquake in Haiti still developing, wrestling with the question of theodicy: Why would a good God allow human suffering to take place? Why would a good God allow an earthquake ravage the poorest nation on earth, affecting the lives of millions and claiming the lives of tens of thousands?
And why, in the midst of this terrible devastation in Haiti, am I sitting here reflecting on a story about Jesus turning water into wine at a wedding feast? The reading of this story coinciding with the events in Haiti left me feeling conflicted. Here are millions of suffering people, and Jesus is concerned about the amount of alcohol at a wedding???

Yet, we know that just because our God is making wine in one place doesn’t mean God can’t be somewhere else at the same time. We know that God is not limited to time and space and prioritizing like we are, and that just because empty bottles of wine are a crisis doesn’t mean that a natural disaster in Haiti is not a crisis. We know that God cares just as much for the people of Haiti as he does for the wedding guests in Cana, and God cares just as much for victims of domestic abuse as he does for victims of violent crime, God cares just as much for Christians as he does for people of other faiths, and God cares just as much for those who died in the quake as for those who survived. God does not prioritize – all the needs of the world, from the most trivial to the most urgent, are God’s greatest priorities. And when we see the images of the devastation and the desperate needs in Haiti, we begin to realize that a new miracle opportunity has materialized. And already, many of us are asking what we can do to help.

In the wake of these events, we have an incredible opportunity to be miracle workers. We have a chance to be servants of Jesus Christ, doing whatever he tells us to do, whether it’s assisting in the rescue of a kickin’ party or doing what we can to help the relief efforts in the coming weeks, months, and years. Although we are separated by thousands of miles, and we cannot travel there at this time for hands-on help, there are things we can do. We can lift up in prayer the millions of affected Haitians, emergency, disaster response, and relief workers, medical workers, and all other missionaries seeking to meet the overwhelming needs. We can educate ourselves about the struggles of the nation of Haiti, whose poverty was unparalleled even before this week. And, we can contribute to relief efforts. Today, we can contribute financially out of our abundance, and in the months and years to come there will be many opportunities to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ as we seek to help in more tangible ways.

I want to take a moment to talk about the connections this congregation has with Haiti, and the opportunities we have to strengthen those connections. First, you may remember that in January of 2009, a missionary named Michael Ritter visited our congregation. Michael is a close personal friend of me and Lisa, and he works to provide sustainable clean water solutions in Haiti. When he was here last January, he showed us pictures and told us stories of the devastation there. Even before the earthquake this week, Haiti was the poorest, most destitute nation in the world, which is the main reason why this earthquake claimed so many lives. The nation was simply not wealthy enough to withstand such a natural disaster like we would be able to.

Anyway, Michael happened to be in the Port-au-Prince area when the earthquake struck. He was about 30 miles outside of Port-au-Prince, staying in the rectory of a church in a town called Baudin. On Thursday, Michael wrote on his blog about his experiences this week. I encourage you to click here and read his reflections.

Secondly, I want to talk to you about our connectedness to Haiti through the denomination of the United Methodist Church. For instance, do you know that as a congregation, we have already supported United Methodist relief efforts in Haiti? That’s right. The United Methodist Church has a relief agency called UMCOR: The United Methodist Committee on Relief. As one of the largest disaster relief organizations in the world, UMCOR was already on the ground in Haiti by Wednesday morning to begin relief efforts. As you may know, when a disaster like this happens, 100% of donations to UMCOR goes to relief efforts. Right now, not a single cent of donations for Haiti relief through UMCOR are used for administrative costs. And do you know why? Because congregations like this one pay mission share. One of the ways our monthly mission share payments are used is to cover administrative costs for UMCOR, so that our past mission share payments means that more money can be used for relief now.

Many of you have approached me this week asking about ways you can help the people of Haiti in this time of crisis. In a few moments, I’m going to ask that we take up a special offering for the people of Haiti. I encourage you to give generously, remembering that God blesses us so that we can share those blessings with others. All of the money that we receive in this offering will be donated to UMCOR’s relief efforts in Haiti, and I can assure you that 100% of it will be used on the ground in Haiti. If you are unprepared to make a donation this morning, you can also donate online to UMCOR’s Haiti relief efforts. Simply go to our church’s website, and on the home page you’ll find a link that will take you directly to the Haiti donation page for UMCOR. I urge you to give as you feel led.

I know that it is sometimes difficult to get passionate about helping in ways like this, where we receive little to no recognition or credit for our generosity. But remember, that was how Jesus began his ministry – by enacting miracles behind the scenes. The ministry of Jesus Christ still continues today, and he still wishes to enact miracles all over the world, including in Haiti. And we have a chance before us to be the servants filling the jars with water, assisting as behind-the-scenes miracle workers alongside Jesus, reaching out in love to those in need. Will we take advantage of that opportunity, giving Haitians reason to celebrate even in the midst of their crisis? Can we make some top-shelf wine for our thirsty brothers and sisters in Haiti? Can we contribute to giving the people of Haiti a cause to celebrate, as hopeless as that seems right now? Can we do our part in the continuing ministry of our Lord and Savior? Jesus is calling out to us. Will we “do whatever he tells us”? In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Forgiving Heroes

2010-01-13T09:28:00.004-05:00

I'm here to talk about the past. I'm here to talk about that magical summer of 1998. I was 15 years old, passionate about the game of baseball since birth, and frustrated that Major League Baseball had declined in popularity in the aftermath of the strike-shortened season in 1994. But then along came two sluggers, a gregarious Dominican right fielder named Sammy Sosa and a pudgy first baseman with a down on the farm, "aw, shucks" attitude named Mark McGwire. They bombed homer after homer. They chased, and shattered, a beloved record. They cooperated with the media. They mingled with fans. They became friends with each other. Sammy had his patented chest-thump-kiss, and Big Mac had the understated fist raise. They were just two sociable guys playing a child's game with joy and passion. They were everything we want our heroes to be, and with their chase for the single season home run record that year, they made Americans fall in love again with our national pastime.

By now, we all know how this story has changed over the last 11 1/2 years. Since then, Sammy Sosa has been uncovered as a bat-corker and probable (but not proven) steroid user. This past Monday, Mark McGwire admitted that he used steroids during his career, including the magical 1998 season. McGwire is not the first slugger to admit steroid use, nor will he be the last. But his earnest apology on Monday, coupled with his reputation as a fan favorite and a "swell guy," has led many to consider the question of forgiveness. Should we forgive Mark McGwire? Should we forgive Sammy Sosa? Should we forgive A-Rod, Clemens, Pettitte, Canseco, Bonds? Should we forgive the great Armando Rios?!

Over the last several days, I've heard these questions raised once again. Often, they come from the angle of whether or not these players "deserve" our forgiveness. Many feel that apologetic stars like McGwire deserve forgiveness, but the unapologetic Bonds and the silent Sosa are not worthy of forgiveness and pardon. It seems as though our society offers forgiveness to those who publicly confess their sins and express remorse, but withholds forgiveness from those who don't think they need to be forgiven.

I often struggle with this understanding of forgiveness. Is it possible to forgive someone who doesn't think they need to be forgiven? Or must some remorse be present for forgiveness to take place? Can I forgive the person who cuts in front of me in line at the grocery store, even if they feel they are entirely justified in doing so? Can God forgive us for things we're not sorry for, or sins we are not aware of committing? Can forgivenes precede apology? All I know is that I can try to forgive the unremorseful sluggers as well as the remorseful, hoping that someday they will come to know the truth about their deplorable actions.

As a baseball fan, I feel cheated by the steroid era. I am deeply wounded by these players that contributed to placing this blemish on the game of baseball. My innocence has been ripped from me -- the baseball element of my childhood has turned out to be one big lie after another. In my attic remains memories of the 1998 home run chase -- scorecards of the many Cardinals or Cubs games I attended, with the home run number written for Sosa or McGwire, along with newspapers and magazines chronicling the events. But what used to be sweet memories are now sour. I now look at these mementos and become sick to my stomach. As much as I wish we could stop talking about the past, I know that new reports, new confessions, new weepy apologies to Costas and Gammons will continue. Alas, the pain will never go away.

"Then Peter came and said to him, 'Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?' Jesus said to him, 'Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy times seven.'" - Matthew 18:21-22

The steroid era has called us into an endless cycle of forgiveness. A few times a year, we're called to forgive yet another hero-of-the-past-turned-goat-of-the-present. Perhaps when Jesus first spoke these words to Peter, he knew one day there would be an entire nation of baseball fans living out the call to forgive "seventy times seven."

So Big Mac, I forgive you. Sammy, I forgive you. I forgive all of the sluggers, flamethrowers, and marginal minor leaguers trying to "get to the Show" no matter what the cost. I forgive you for cheapening the integrity of the game. I forgive you for marginalizing the clean players with your drug-enhanced performance. I forgive you for cheating the fans of a pure experience. And I forgive you for trampling on my heart, leaving a gaping wound where fond childhood memories once lived. I will always wear the scars of this era, scars that you all have made. I will always be saddened by what has transpired in the aftermath. But here is one boy who will forgive you for the pain you have inflicted upon all of us, whether or not you think you deserve it.

Merry Christmas and some links

2009-12-24T09:08:00.003-05:00

I know, it's been awhile since I last posted. Unfortunately, while getting our Christmas tree a few weeks ago, I slammed my finger in the car door. In addition to solidifying my status as the klutz of our household, the injury made it difficult to type for awhile. I'm still not back to 100% typing capability, but I'm finally at the point where I can go beyond necessary typing and re-enter the world of blog.

Things are well in West Newton. I'm surprisingly prepared for this evening's service, and our house is ready for Lisa's family to arrive this afternoon. I cannot wait for the service tonight. It's the best service of the year in our congregation -- as well as the most dangerous. I might ask Lisa to take some pictures tonight so you can see what I'm up against as I delicately maneuver around uncovered candles. It's a flaming clerical robe waiting to happen.

A few brief updates, for those of you I won't see in the next couple of weeks:
1. The kittens are growing, and still incredibly cute. Chief and I have established a "fetch"-like game, where he brings his toy tiger up to me on the couch, and I flick it across the room, he retrieves it, and we repeat.
2. It snowed a lot last Saturday, and a little more on Monday. Hopefully it will stay cold enough today that it doesn't all melt, and we can have a white Christmas. Have I ever told you how much I love snow? Unfortunately, tomorrow's forecast is for ice/sleet in the morning, turning to rain in the afternoon. Ugh.
3. Amazingly, the Steelers still have a slim chance of sneaking into the playoffs. But, I don't think any team who loses to the Chiefs, Raiders, and Browns in a 5 week stretch should be allowed to make the playoffs. So, should the Steelers miraculously get in, I propose that they go all Notre Dame and decline the playoff invitation, because they sure didn't earn it.
4. We now have a church website, created by one of our members, who happens to be a web developer for clothing retailer American Eagle. We're still filling in some content, but I'm very excited that our congregation has finally chosen to keep up with 1990's technology.

In an effort to be politically correct, I will not wish you a Merry Christmas. Rather, in the spirit of NBC's hilarious new show, Community, I wish you a Merry Happy, and I hope Mr. Winter brings you lots of non-denominational gifts and cheer!

On Preparation

2009-12-07T10:48:00.002-05:00

Sermon for Sunday, Dec. 6
Second Sunday of Advent
Scripture: Luke 3:1-6

A couple weeks ago, on Thanksgiving, Lisa and I visited my grandparents’ house with the rest of my mother’s family. Many of us who were visiting them were busy that morning preparing food to take, and making other preparations of a somewhat trivial nature. Meanwhile, my grandparents were preparing their home for our visit – making food, cleaning, making the dining room table even larger. But Grandma and Pap Pap, as I call them, were also preparing for visitors in a different way – with a means of preparation that has become part of their regular routine.

Over the last few years, Pap Pap’s mind has begun to be taken over by Alzheimer’s. Each day, it seems, Alzheimer’s is gaining more and more territory in his mind, destroying more and more memories that he once held dear. As a result, he sometimes struggles to remember exactly who people are and what their relationship to him is. So, every time my grandparents are expecting visitors, Grandma sits down with Pap Pap and reviews who is coming, the purpose of the visit, the nature of the relationships with the visitors, and even some talking points that he can use to have a conversation. Of course, I’ve never seen this preparation in action, but to me it sounds like a tutor helping a student cram for a test. I have this image of Grandma and Pap Pap sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, Grandma briefing Pap Pap on their wonderful grandson Erik, who is a pastor, and his beautiful wife Lisa, an engineer. And I can tell that when it comes to my visits, the cram sessions always include the fact that golf is and has always been a good talking point between me and Pap Pap.

In some ways, Grandma’s preparations work. This past Thanksgiving, I was able to talk at length about golf with Pap Pap, and whether he remembers that conversation or not, we were able to share and celebrate our relationship together, partially as a result of Grandma and Pap Pap’s preparations.

When I reflect on how I prepared for Thanksgiving as opposed to how Pap Pap prepared for Thanksgiving, I become aware that Pap Pap prepares with more love and care than the rest of the family. While the rest of us were busy that morning with menial, mindless tasks of labor, Pap Pap was engaged in deep reflection on the nature of his relationships with those whom he loves. And when I think about that, I become ashamed of how much he thought about our relationship with love and care prior to our visit, and how little we really thought of him at all, because we were busy making green beans.

We all know that the Advent season is a season of preparation in many ways. We clean and decorate our houses, we shop for loved ones, we plan days off to visit with family, we cook elaborate meals or bake dozens of Christmas cookies. We attend church with anticipation and excitement, eager to light the Advent wreath or to hear our favorite Christmas carol. We go caroling around town to spread the hope, peace, joy, and love of Jesus Christ. We remind ourselves that “Jesus is the reason for the season.” The Christmas Eve worship service is already being planned. The choir is preparing wonderful anthems to offer throughout the season. Festive events fill the church calendar this month.

These are wonderful ways to prepare ourselves for the coming of Christmas. But something tells me that John the Baptizer isn’t talking about decorating or baking or even lighting an Advent wreath when he says, “Prepare the way of the Lord.” No, John’s quoting of Isaiah comes right on the heels of “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” As strange as it may sound, our call on this Advent morning is to prepare the way of the Lord through repentance.

The Greek word for repentance, metanoia, is used here to mean a reversal, a turning away from one thing and towards another. John’s hope is that we who hear him will choose to turn our attention from our lives to the life of Jesus Christ. Rather than worrying about whether we’re burning the Christmas cookies, or if we’ll make the party on time, or if we’re singing the carol exactly as written, John wants us to examine our relationship with Jesus Christ. This, I don’t think, is meant to be done in a fearful or threatening way – my relationships with other people are not based on fear of them, and neither is my relationship with Christ. But John does call us to the important preparatory work of repentance – turning our attention toward the God who will make his presence known to us through the birth of Jesus Christ. And so, we are called to close examination, like my grandfather, of the relationship we have with an expected visitor.

This Advent, this time of preparation, is meant as a time to examine the nature of our relationship with Christ. How has that relationship been in the past? What moments have we shared? When have we laughed together? Cried together? Been angry or disappointed in each other? What memories, old and new, do we have of experiencing Jesus Christ in our life?
And how does our relationship with Christ stand right now? When was the last time we were present – not just physically present but mentally and emotionally present – with him? Are we engaging in spiritual practices that are keeping us connected in relationship with Jesus? Are we worshipping with our soul, praying, reading – and really meditating on – scripture, being servants, loving one another? Are we really looking around our world trying to catch glimpses of the kingdom of God? Are we doing all that we can to prepare ourselves for the visit of the Christ child? And regardless of what we’ve already been doing, what else can we do to re-connect with Christ this Christmas?

I invite you to continue preparing in your usual ways this season. Decorate and clean your house. Show hospitality to family and friends, and perhaps exchange loving gifts with them. Practice charity with all people. Celebrate the lighting of an Advent wreath here or at home. Hang your stockings with care and set out your nativities with greater care. Cook delicious meals and tasty cookies. Attend worship as often as you are able. Count down the days until the celebration of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

But in addition to these preparations, keep the words of John the Baptizer fresh in your mind. Prepare the way – not just the way of family and friends, but the way of the Lord. And practice repentance – find ways to help yourself TURN FROM what separates you from God and TURN TOWARD what draws you closer to God.

My grandfather, in his pre-visit preparations, defiantly turns away from the evil taking over his mind, and turns instead toward his relationship with the visitors. Rather than let his Alzheimer’s construct a barrier between him and me, he has found a way to still prepare for cultivating our relationship anew, each time I enter his presence. And I suspect that turning away from the evil and turning towards our relationship will get harder for him as time passes, but Pap Pap has always been very persistent. So I know that even when the barriers between him and me get stronger, it’ll only make him try harder to be in relationship with me. And what’s important is not necessarily that the relationship stays the same as it has been. What’s important is that despite barriers of evil, he and I will do all we can to keep our relationship meaningful in some way as long as possible.

Are there barriers between you and God as you approach the coming of the Christ child? Are you seeking ways to turn from those barriers and toward the relationship with the Messiah? While you clean, cook, shop, and party, will you allow this Advent season to be defined by preparations of a different sort as well? Come, repent. Turn away from the darkness and turn toward the light. Prepare the way of the Lord in your heart, mind and soul. Prepare the way of the Lord, so all flesh shall see the salvation of God. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Unbelievable Nightmare

2009-12-06T22:10:00.001-05:00

The 2009 Pittsburgh Steelers.

Black Friday

2009-11-29T15:04:00.003-05:00

For the first time ever this year, Lisa and I participated in the hysteria that is commonly called "Black Friday." As rookies, we had no idea what to expect, and we were only making one purchase, so we set our alarms and made our way through the dark night to seize our treasure.

Goal: a new TV
Potential Savings: $150
Location: Sears, Westmoreland Mall
Doors Open: 4 am
Wake-up: 3 am

As we arrived at the mall, the main entrance to Sears had a long line of a few hundred people stretching down the sidewalk. So we pulled around back to find only a couple dozen souls standing around that entrance. We got out and joined the crowd, wondering if anyone else shared our sentiment that what we were all doing was somewhere between stupid and crazy.

As 4 am approached, the Sears employees trotted out to their "action positions" as Lisa called it, ready to withstand the trampling that would surely ensue. When they were finally given the go ahead to open the doors, no trampling occurred (I was slightly disappointed, mostly pleased). In fact, people filed in relatively calmly, almost as if everyone was afraid that too much eagerness would reveal them as "that guy." There was no sprinting, no pushing and shoving, but there was much power-walking and light-jogging. We made our way to the escalator, briskly climbing them with the rest as we all made our dash to the electronics department -- where at least 85% of the crowd was going.

Lisa found a salesperson, where she was hastily told to get in a line if she wanted any chance at getting the TV we came for. We waited in line for about a half hour, which allowed us time to take in the sights and sounds around us. There were people grabbing stuff left and right, calling out to companions, impatiently but calmly pressing in around trapped cashiers, and generally ignoring whatever directives were being given by Sears employees. It was organized chaos -- people seemed too bleary-eyed to be outright rude.

Finally, we were the next in line. A seemingly nice couple in front of us was buying a few things, one of which was a GPS. Problem is, they weren't totally certain which one was the one they wanted. They'd forgotten to bring the ad, and they were getting confused with all the intricate product numbers. It was taking a long time. As they continued mucking up the line with their confusion, I thought to myself, "If I don't get my TV because you are taking too long, I am going to be so mad that I wasted my middle of the night driving a half hour out here."

Normally, I'm a pretty patient person in stores. I don't mind waiting in line behind someone who's taking awhile to check out, because I've been on both sides of the register in such situations. It's better to take a couple extra minutes and make sure everything is right, for the sake of the cashier and the customer. But on Friday morning, I felt myself getting impatient and nervous, because I really didn't want anyone getting in the way of me getting what I want. Almost as soon as I had my selfish thought, I had a sinking feeling. I had succumbed to the worst byproduct of capitalism: greed. I felt like I needed to atone for thinking about my TV above someone else's GPS, my happiness over the happiness of someone else. It felt so dirty that when we got home, I considered taking a shower to rinse off the capitalist greed I was covered in.

After purchasing our TV, we pulled the car up to merchandise pick-up, loaded our booty into the car, and were back home in bed by 5:30. We are happy we got such a great deal on a TV, but not happy about what we had to endure to do so. And I hate what Black Friday turned me into. I can't say I'll never go shopping on Black Friday ever again, but I hope to avoid it at all costs. For one thing, I don't ever want to let something as silly as a good deal on a TV consume me enough to turn me into a selfish person. I don't want to see other people as nothing more than obstacles to my own happiness. I don't want to be "that guy" who doesn't care about other people. One thing is certain: now, when I set up that new TV, I will pray for forgiveness for my own selfishness, and I will remember that my happiness should never come at the expense of someone else's.

Anam Cara: Part 2 of Several

2009-11-25T16:55:00.002-05:00

An Anam Cara is a soul friend. Join me as I share experiences of soul friends that have walked with me in my continuing journey of faith.

My name is Erik, I’m a pastor, I enjoy reading, cooking, going to ball games, and long, slow, reaffirmation of baptismal covenant services on the beach.

The first time I attended such a service, I was in St. Lucia on a mission trip with my youth group. Our last night there, we headed to the beach for some evening relaxation and closing worship. One of the pastors at our church, Rev. Eric Park, led the service, which was centered on reaffirmation of our baptismal covenants and the celebration of Holy Communion. I will never forget that service, particularly because of the way the sacrament of communion was served.

Imagine the sight of 80 senior high youth and adult leaders, worshipping on a Caribbean beach. Now imagine Eric, a bowling ball of a man, leading the service while standing knee deep in the ocean, holding the elements of bread and wine in his outstretched arms and inviting us to the Lord’s Supper. Imagine further that Eric is wearing athletic shorts, a Scooby Doo cut-off t-shirt, and a bandana on his head. This is the scene of one of the most memorable and comical experiences of communion in my life.

Before then, I had received communion countless times. But until that night, I had never seen it administered by someone wearing sleeveless Scooby Doo vestments. Then again, Eric is the type of guy who, as an adult, still reads comic books and watches cartoons, so none of us were in any way surprised at his attire.

As a high school student, I had already begun to sense a call to ordained ministry. However, I was a teenager, so I wasn’t really sure what it all meant. I needed guidance on the matter. Though my parents were pastors themselves, our conversations on the subject seemed guarded. It was almost as if my parents wanted to support my potential call to ministry, but maintain enough distance that I didn’t feel any added pressure to follow in their footsteps. So Eric began to be a person I turned to for guidance.

Occasionally, I would swing by the church after school to chat with Eric. He shared his passions for Star Trek and comic books with me, and I shared my passion for baseball with him. We found (and still find) common ground with Duke basketball, Steelers football, Seinfeld, and a desire to follow Jesus Christ. And sometimes, we would discuss my call to ministry. Eric gave me a lot of great advice, some of which I remember and some of which I’m sure I have long forgotten. Over the years, Eric has remained somewhat of a mentor for me, particularly now that I have begun to fulfill my calling back here in Western PA as one of his colleagues.

Of the many things Eric has taught me, one very important lesson came on that warm summer night on the beach in St. Lucia. That night, as a high school senior, I learned that to be a pastor does not mean one must sacrifice his or her identity. Eric surely knows when wearing the image of a cartoon dog is acceptable, and when a clergy robe is more appropriate for administration of sacraments. But he did teach me that sometimes, we pastors need to let our personalities shine through. Just because I am now a pastor does not mean I must sacrifice who I am, hobbies and wardrobe included. This I know because of a pastor willing to adorn a cut-off t-shirt while administering communion.

On the eve of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for many anam caras, but I am especially thankful for Eric and the important lessons he continues to teach me. How he spells his name may clearly be inferior to the way I spell mine, but I am thankful to have a colleague and a brother in Christ like Eric Park.

Label Makers

2009-11-23T10:02:00.002-05:00

Sermon for Christ the King Sunday
November 22, 2009
Scripture: John 18:33-37

Have you ever gone into work, first thing in the morning, and been met at the door with some seemingly trivial issue or problem that needs immediate attention? Or have you ever woken up on your day off to the sound of your children calling out to you to settle a monumental dispute over who gets the toy at the bottom of the cereal box? None of us like days that start like this. And when our day starts with trivial disputes and issues that supposedly need our immediate attention, we begin to expect a really bad day on our hands.

Well, this is kinda how Pilate feels in this morning’s Gospel lesson. It’s early in the morning, and he’s just reported to work as a Roman official on assignment in Judea, and he’s immediately being pestered with what looks like an insignificant conflict. The local Jews want Pilate to crucify one of their own, some man they call Jesus of Nazareth. The Jews were not much threat to the Roman empire at that time, but before Pilate even has a chance to grab his morning coffee, they are starting his day with a petty argument. I can only imagine him rolling his eyes as he arrives at the praetorium, finding this angry mob of Jews who are about to waste his morning. And immediately, the wheels begin to turn in Pilate’s mind – how can I avoid dealing with these Jews’ petty argument?

On the other hand, he realizes that if he completely ignores the issue, he might have a bit of an insurrection on his hands. If he blows off the Jews, he might do more harm than good. And to add to that, the man in question, this Jesus of Nazareth, is rumored to be some kind of big-shot leader around these parts. Some are even going so far to call him a king. And if he really does have that kind of power – if he really is a king among the Jews – then this insignificant issue may soon become a very significant threat to the Roman empire. And so Pilate realizes that he must deal with this small problem so that it doesn’t turn into a real political threat to Roman rule.

Pilate’s first question, “Are you the King of the Jews?” is his attempt to gauge the threat level of the situation. Is this a red level threat or not? Does this man standing in front of him have political clout or not? Is he able to make the Jewish nation turn against Rome or not? Simply put, Pilate is trying to determine whether this conflict is worth his time so early in the work day.

Yet, Jesus answers a question with a question. He does this ALL THE TIME in the Gospels, and boy it must’ve been irritating to his hearers:

“Are you the King of the Jews?” says Pilate.

And Jesus responds, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Essentially, Jesus wants Pilate to admit his motives for asking a question about kingship. And Pilate, in an attempt to avoid directly answering the question, actually reveals his motives quite well when he replies, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me.”

Thus, we see that Pilate is defining kingship by the usual definition – in political terms. He’s trying to figure out if Jesus is really a political leader of the Jewish nation-state, and if so, how much authority might he have? And furthermore, how much does that political authority threaten the authority of the Roman government for whom Pilate works? Everything Pilate asks and says in this conversation is about politics. He labels Jesus as a king – a label of political status and authority. And he also labels Jesus as a Jew – a characterization, in Pilate’s mind, of political allegiance, of citizenship to a nation state, NOT the religious label it might sound like to us. But as you and I know, labeling or categorizing other people is a difficult and often confusing exercise.

In the past, I have been labeled, in good ways, bad ways, and neutral ways. I have, in my office, the results of the Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator, which labels me as an “INFJ” personality. Last year, I attended a mandatory seminar with the conference that determined that I was an “amiable driver” when relating with others. When I first came to town, I was categorized as a “new young pastor,” which carried expectations that, to the disappointment of some, was not met. And when I go to ecumenical gatherings, I sometimes literally wear the label “United Methodist” under my name.

But some labels I’ve been assigned are a bit trickier. When I started college, I was quickly categorized under the blanket term “liberal,” whatever that means. Yet in seminary, I was just as quickly categorized as a “conservative,” whatever that means too. I personally have never cared for these political and sometimes theological labels of conservative or liberal, primarily because it creates false assumptions about a person’s opinions and beliefs, and blinds us from getting to know the person themselves. Plus, I’ve often found that such labels depend more on the opinions of those around me than on my own thoughts and opinions.

This is why I’ve always shied away from boxing people in completely with labels or categorizing, because sometimes we have different ideas about what those labels mean. We may use labels to help us identify some characteristics, ways of relating, and personal opinions in those that we meet. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but we must be cautious with labeling other people. Because although I am a United Methodist, that is not all I am. And my understanding of United Methodist and your understanding of United Methodist may be different. Although I am an INFJ, which includes the sub-categorization of me as someone who is more “feeling” than “thinking”, this doesn’t mean that I don’t ever think, or that there aren’t times that I value thoughts over feelings. And I might act like an amiable driver in many social situations, but I’m sure there are times that I do not act like an amiable driver at all. And although I am a pastor, the word “pastor” might mean different things to different people. So labels are one way to help us define each other, but they are not the only way to define someone – especially when the meanings of labels are not always universally agreed upon.

Pilate, when using the term “king,” has one idea about what the words king and kingdom mean. However, Jesus has an entirely different view of king and kingdom. For Pilate, a king is a political ruler with total authority over a geographical region, called a kingdom. This is the worldview of king and kingdom – a political leader of a political reality. King and kingdom are purely political terms. But in this Gospel, this kingship talk is somewhat foreign to Jesus. While in the Synoptic Gospels Jesus talks about God’s kingdom a great deal, here in John’s Gospel there are only 2 brief conversations in which the words king and kingdom are mentioned. In John’s Gospel, Jesus is less concerned about political terms and realities of kingdoms and kings, and more concerned with the theological reality of truth.
Jesus Christ did not come into this world to get engaged in our earthly obsession with politics, or our need to create labels for each other. Instead, Jesus Christ came into this world to represent God’s truth and testify to that truth. And that truth is what we affirm every Sunday: that Jesus Christ is of one being with the Father, that for us and for our salvation, he came down from heaven, assumed human form, was crucified, and then resurrected. We acknowledge that only by the grace of God, through these loving acts, all people are offered salvation. And all people, no matter what labels are placed on them, are freely and lovingly offered salvation through Jesus Christ.

I fear that sometimes, in our hurry to label and categorize each other with human, worldly terms, we make the same mistake as Pilate does here. Perhaps, in our need to always have labels for each other, we create a culture in which we are defined only by the labels assigned to us, rather than the person that God has created us to be. But in calling Pilate to think beyond political labels, I wonder if Jesus is calling all of us to move beyond the worldly labels we have created for each other. And I can’t help but think what might happen if we threw away the proverbial label-makers in our mind. What if we moved past the personality and relational labels: extrovert or introvert, argumentative or agreeable, driver or expressive? What if we moved past labels of status: wealthy or poor, superior or subordinate, success or failure? What if we moved beyond political labels: conservative or liberal, Republican or Democrat, traditionalist or reformer? What if we could finally break free of religious labels: United Methodist or Lutheran, Catholic or Protestant, Christian or Muslim, Jew or Hindu?

Through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, every single person is offered the chance to belong to him – to belong to the truth. God longs for each of us to bear but one label on our hearts – one who belongs to God. What if the only label we looked for in ourselves and each other was that label? What if we simply labeled each person we meet as someone who belongs to God? Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to make our messy world begin to look more and more like the kingdom of God where Jesus Christ is King – whatever that means. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.