Sermon for the Second Sunday of Lent: "Faith Enough To Follow"

Preaching Texts

Let’s pray: Lord Jesus Christ, You come to us in our darkness and ask us to trust that you will lead us into Your light. But it’s scary out there. Our weaknesses will be exposed. Our prejudices will be challenged. Our cynical nature rebels because we prefer to stay hidden in the dark with our small hopes and dreams. Turn us inside out. Show us that there’s a better way to live as Your followers, a justified way that is true to the gospel with which You have called us. Lead us down that way through the power of your Holy Spirit. All this we ask, knowing that we cannot understand or control how it will happen, that we must simply have faith in You. Help us, above all, to put our faith in You. Amen.

Four volunteers who will be blindfolded and led around the sanctuary. Each leader has a different path that encompasses the icon, the baptismal font, the door to the sanctuary and ends at the cross.

Questions:

· How did it feel being led in this way?

· Were you worried about where you were being led? The person who was leading you?

· Were you completely ready to go from the moment I asked for volunteers?

· How about where you ended and the blindfold was removed – did that mean anything to you?

Here’s the question for us today: do we trust enough to follow where we are called? I believe that the biggest obstacle facing the church today isn’t a lack of spirituality. It isn’t Biblical illiteracy or shaky morals. It isn’t homosexuals and it isn’t heterosexuals and it isn’t Republicans or Democrats, either. I think the biggest obstacle facing us today is a lack of faith.. Specifically, I think we lack faith in God to lead us where we need to go, and faith in each other to travel on that way together without trying to control each other. Faith, pure and simple.

Our scripture readings today show us a lot about faith and trust and following where you’re called. Let’s start with Abram, shall we? What can you tell me about Abram? Ancestor in the faith. Name means “Father of many nations.” Married to Sarah. Did you know that Abram was born and raised a pagan, worshipping many idols before he started hearing one voice above all the others? Abram was not a man raised to believe that one day, the God would come calling in a voice he could hear: Abram was a man raised to believe that gods were distant, plentiful and rarely concerned with the actions of the mortals who worshiped them. This pagan sheepherder, several hundred years removed from Noah, the last to hear the voice of God, was called to pick up and leave everything he knew, all that was familiar and controllable, and move to an unknown land several months’ journey to the west, where he would be a sojourner, a resident alien. And the voice of God didn’t stop there: he also promised that Abram and Sarai, well past child-bearing age, would become the parents of a multitude upon the earth.

We would do well to consider the pattern of Abram’s faith and the following he did. According to the book of Genesis, Abram did follow as he was called, but there were problems along the way. Abram didn’t understand exactly what he was being asked to do – all he knew was that God was up to something in his life. Abram didn’t know exactly where he was going – all he knew was that God would show him the way. Abram wasn’t sure he was the right person for the position – after all, how could a couple with no children become the parents of a multitude? Abram didn’t always follow with complete trust and confidence in God – sometimes Abram took things into his own hands, like the two occasions he tried to pass Sarai off as his sister to protect them both. Abram and Sarai went so far as to try to accomplish what God had promised on their own by having a child through a surrogate, Sarai’s servant Hagar, because Sarai was past the age of childbirth. But even with all this, with all the times Abram and Sarai stumbled, lost their way and rejected God’s promises as false, in the end God delivered what God had promised: a multitude of nations now cling to the memory of Abraham and Sarah as our ancestors in the faith. Was their faith perfect? Hardly – Abram and Sarai had only enough faith to begin the journey and see what would happen. But that’s all the faith that was needed: faith enough to follow.

Consider also, then, the story of Nicodemus and Jesus from the gospel of John. Nicodemus was described as a Pharisee of high standing, one who paid attention to the ancient covenant between God and the people of Israel. But Nicodemus came to Jesus because he believed that something was happening through Jesus. He was, if you will, in the dark about Jesus – and Nicodemus’ coming to Jesus at night was no accident. In John’s gospel, light and darkness have deep meaning, far deeper than simply night and day. Darkness stands for evil, ignorance, a desire to keep ourselves hidden from God, while light stands for righteousness, revelation and the presence of God and God’s people. So when the gospel tells us that Nicodemus came to Jesus in the dark, it tells us that Nicodemus had only enough faith to come and see what was going on – but again, this is all the faith that is required: faith enough to follow.

Today, we know little more than Nicodemus did that night he came to Jesus. We’re not even sure if John 3.16-21 is actually be the words of Jesus – some manuscripts do not include these verses as a quotation. We’re confused about whether or not the most well-known and over-used verse in all scripture was actually spoken by Jesus. Taking this fact into consideration, then, how exactly can we expect to understand everything the Spirit blows into us, or everything the Spirit blows us into? But we do believe that the Spirit is active, do we not? Jesus tells us: the wind / Spirit / pneuma blows where it chooses, and we hear the sound of it, but we do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with all of us who are born of the wind / Spirit / pneuma.

Being parents, of course, Kris and I know a little something about being born. First, the body is whispering, to mother and child, then it nudges, then it shouts and pushes the infant toward a new world. Is it comfortable? Hardly. But, is it necessary? Absolutely – because there is a limited time the infant can remain in the womb. So it is with us – when we are reborn through the work of the Spirit, first there is a whispering, then a nudge, then finally the strong, clear voice of God bringing us into a new life, a life we don’t always understand but into which we are called as God’s children, washed in the waters of baptism and given faith enough to follow once we have been called.

One of my seminary professors says that “We tend to talk about "our faith" or "having faith," assuming that it is a done deal, that believing is as simple as acquiring faith. But the Gospel of John never refers to faith as a noun. Faith is not a possession, not something that one gets, not something that one has—it is something that one does. Believing for the characters in the Fourth Gospel is a verb. And as a verb, believing is subject to all of the ambiguity, the uncertainty, and the indecisiveness of being human. We need to ask more often than we are willing to admit, "how can these things be?" We need to take seriously what faith looks like when it is active, living, permeable, and dynamic. We need to consider earnestly that having an incarnated God may require an incarnational faith – that believing is just as complicated as it is to be human.”[1]

I wish I could tell you exactly how this works, where the Spirit will call you, into what you’ll be reborn today, but I can’t. I don’t know how this works any better than you – I’m not the one whispering, nudging, pulling you into a new life. What I can tell you is that as your brother in Christ, I will celebrate the journey with you, believe in you and put my faith in you as you seek to discern the Spirit’s voice in your life, help you find the way to follow Jesus as you help me find my own. But most of all, I can promise you this: you have all you need to follow Jesus already, because the Spirit has called you here and reminded you that your sins are forgiven, the life you have lived is behind you, and the future of faith enough to follow is here for you, today, in this place. May God bless the journey into which you are called today, and praise be to God for giving us faith enough to follow in all the days to come. Amen.

---

[1] Caroline Lewis, Assistant Professor of Homiletics, Luther Seminary. http://workingpreacher.org

Birthday Cake Mash-Up

All right, fine - she really IS my daughter:

Many thanks to Matt for videotaping the moment - I was having too much fun being part of it to actually think about pictures/videos/any kind of recording device.

A few still shots to enjoy, too:

Friday Five: The Water and the Word

In this Sunday's gospel Nicodemus asks Jesus, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?" Poor old Nicodemus! He was so confused about the whole "water and Spirit" business of baptism.

For today's five, tell us about your baptismal experiences.

When and where were you baptized? Do you remember it? Know any interesting tidbits?
9 June 1974. Don't remember it, as I was only a month old at the time, and from what I've heard, there aren't any interesting tidbits surrounding my baptism. You know, except for the whole "adoption into the body of Christ" thing - that never gets old.

What's the most unexpected thing you've ever witnessed at a baptism?
Well, there was our daughter's first poop through her diaper experience - during her baptismal service - that was certainly unexpected.

Does your congregation have any special traditions surrounding baptisms?
My former congregation had a banner where they would post the child's name the day of her/his baptism, and we subscribed each family to a monthly mailing called "Splash!" from our publishing house - kind of a combination practical-parenting / baptismal-instruction foldout each month, plus a CD once a year for baby and parents to enjoy. Here in campus ministry, we don't do a lot of baptisms, so I'm sure we'll be free to have fun with something when it does happen.

Are you a godparent or baptismal sponsor? Have a story to tell?
We are sponsors of my nephew on my wife's side, and pleased as punch about it. We haven't done a whole lot as of yet, but once he gets into Sunday School and especially toward confirmation we'll be stepping up a bit more.

Do you have a favorite baptismal song or hymn?
There's a baptismal hymn in our new hymnal that has made its mark on me - "Wash, O God, Our Sons and Daughters." For one thing it's set to the Sacred Harp tune Beach Spring, one of my favorites. The words are beautiful, too:

1. Wash, O God, our sons and daughters, where your cleansing waters flow.
Number them among your people; bless as Christ blessed long ago.
Weave them garments, bright and sparkling; compass them with love and light.
Fill, anoint them; send your Spirit, holy dove and heart's delight.

2. We who bring them long for nurture; by your milk may we be fed.
Let us join your feast, partaking cup of blessing, living bread.
God, renew us, guide our footsetps; free from sin and all its snares,
one with Christ in living, dying, by your Spirit, children, heirs.

3. Oh, how deep your holy wisdom! Unimagined, all your ways!
To your name be glory, honor! With our lives we worship, praise!
We your people stand before you, water-washed and Spirit-born.
By your grace, our lives we offer. Recreate us; God, transform!

Healthy, Holy Critique

"You don't listen."

Not the kind of thing a pastor likes to hear less than two months into a new call - but it's what I heard this afternoon.

This is not another working-in-the-church-means-sometimes-putting-up-with-assholes post; I don't do those anymore (at least, not where people can figure out the name of the asshole in question). This one hurt because it was a genuine problem caused by a lot of different stuff, some of which was wholly and entirely my fault. When someone comes to you with one problem, and you probe a bit into another that you've kinda felt building, and suddenly, the someone is in tears? That's when a pastor knows there's a major problem that needs fixing - NOW.

Thanks be to God, we did talk and forgiveness was offered and received well on both sides. That's the "Healthy, Holy" part of this post's title. It's one thing to go to a forum on spirituality in the morning and talk about how it's hard for the church to trust each other anymore. It's another thing to do the kind of work that creates space for rebuilding broken trust. That's why I feel exhausted this afternoon - because I've been working, and the conversation and its repercussions are going to last a while. That's the tough part of this ministry gig.

The good part? Hearing these words at the end of the conversation: "I didn't expect this to go so well." Surprising someone by simply being willing to admit your mistakes kinda feels good, like you're not only rebuilding trust in yourself, but in everyone who's going to mess up after you. Maybe that's the lasting effect of genuine repentance - creating the hope that others will be able to do the same in the future.

Wednesday Reflection: "Little Ones"

Matthew 18.10-14: “Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven. What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.”

My friend Caroline got a kitten while we were in seminary. She named it “Mikra,” which is the Greek word used for “little ones” in these verses from the Gospel of Matthew. I thought Mikra was cute for a kitten but wouldn’t work for a cat who could, for all I know, weigh 20 pounds and resemble a furry rock more than a kitten these days.

I don’t know much about naming cats – Ike and Reggie just seemed like, well, Ike and Reggie when they entered my life. But I remember feeling the same way about them as Caroline did about Mikra: even if you’re not a cat person, it’s hard to resist a kitten. I remember the day my girlfriend brought Ike home; he was a yowling ball of fur, hiding in the back window of her car and scared out of his wits, but once he got used to my little one-bedroom apartment, he became my best friend. To this day, Ike is still “my” cat, even though his kitten days are long gone and the girlfriend who brought him home is now my ex-wife.

As much as I like thinking about the cute, fuzzy days of kittenhood, that’s not what Jesus was talking about here – it’s not even close. The love of God is not the warm, oogly mush of fuzzy kitten sentimentality: it is the raging, protective, all-encompassing love of a benevolent parent for a child. If Ike or Reggie had wandered through an open door or window and been lost, I would have been truly sad, of course, but not for long. Growing up on a Nebraska farm, I’ve gotten familiar with losing pets over the years, and old age has seldom been the cause of death. The love I had for Chee-Chee, Lady, George, Rocky, Patches, Ed, Cheddar, and all the other cats and dogs, all our “little ones” over the years was strong, of course, but nowhere near as strong as the care a shepherd shows for his sheep or, speaking from personal experience, a parent for his child.

Last Saturday we had a house full of family in town for my installation and to celebrate Ainsley’s first birthday. I’d been working on a few odds and ends around the house, and my tools were kind of all over the place, so as Kristin and my Mom headed off to check into the hotel where my parents were staying, I was running up and down the stairs putting wrenches back in the tool box and other stuff. My Dad was watching my nephew Zach and our Ainsley, but kids are quick and distracted parents make mistakes. I made a big one. I was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher when I heard a loud thump on our basement stairs, followed by another, then another, then nothing. My heart dropped right into the pit of my stomach as I realized that I’d left the door open and Ainsley had just fallen down the stairs. I raced downstairs to find her wedged against the gate at the bottom, startled and trying to breathe. I scooped her up and checked her from head to foot for any serious injuries while she caught her breath and proceeded to scream at the top of her lungs for a couple of minutes. We’re talking serious crying here: she was scared, hurt and not afraid at all to let the whole world know about it. And me? I felt like the worst parent in the world for letting something like that happen to my little girl. I would have gladly taken the fall on myself if I could have, and in the days since that fall I’ve been hyper-vigilant about where my little girl is and whether the doors are shut or not.

This is the kind of care the Father has for us – His “little ones.” You see it over and over throughout the Bible: God the Father is in anguish when we are hurt and scared because we’ve fallen and cannot stand on our own. The prophet Hosea was given a glimpse of this love when he wrote,

When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.

²The more I called them, the more they went from me;

they kept sacrificing to the Baals, and offering incense to idols.

³Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms;

but they did not know that I healed them.

⁴I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love.

I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to them and fed them.

⁸How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel?

…

My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.

⁹I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim;

for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst,

and I will not come in wrath.[1]

This is the love Jesus described when He told his disciples, “It is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.” You are God’s little ones, the ones for whom God’s heart is yearning. This is the love of Christ, so powerful and passionate that even the prospect of crucifixion was not enough to cause Him to renounce His “little ones.”

Lent is about the journey of Jesus to the cross, but we know that we cannot walk the road with Him; we stumble and fall and find ourselves gasping, out of breath, terrified by our own mistakes and the misfortune of suffering for someone else’s sin. But the love of God for us, His “little ones,” is the love that stoops down, picks us up, caresses and soothes until the terror is gone, peace reigns in our hearts, and we are able to walk once again. Little ones, be assured that this loving God is yours, tonight and forever. Amen.

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[1] Hosea 11.1-4, 8-11, New Revised Standard Version

Temptation, Recuperation, Addiction, Exasperation - Not Necessarily In That Order

I've not been a very happy camper these past few days. Matter of fact, I've been pretty much a pissant since all our family left Sunday afternoon. Grrrrr.

It all started on Thursday night when I noticed a tickle in my throat. By morning it had grown into a full-fledged sore throat: I'm sick with the Crud. Nothing major, mind you, and certainly not strep or walking pneumonia like Matt had a few weeks ago. But not fun. By Saturday afternoon, I was struggling to speak clearly and swallow without pain - right as our friends and family started arriving. Sunday afternoon was my installation service. It was wonderful and humbling at the same time - all these people celebrating the ministry they think we can do, with me as pastor and leader. *gulp* But I digress - I'll cover the installation more tonight from home.

I couldn't sing on Sunday. Literally couldn't hold a pitch at all - I sounded like the pimply kid on the Simpsons: "Mister, I can't stand the sound of your voice!" I said "Martin Luther" in the course of my sermon and it sounded like I had gone back to age 13. Not pretty.

Speaking of my sermon, it wasn't great. You'd think that the confrontation between Jesus and Satan, with its themes of temptation, fasting and the ministry of the angels would provide lots of fruitful space for preaching, but this week, it didn't. It wasn't even good, in my opinion: scattered words about Jesus and nothing really worth saying in the end. It can be SO frustrating when that happens: you think you've got something good and you just can't make it work right. Sometimes you preach the Word, and sometimes you preach words, unfortunately - I just wish it had been better for my family, who traveled quite a distance to see the Center and be with us on Sunday. Maybe next time.

Yesterday morning, I decided to take a 1/2 day of sick leave. I normally work about four hours on Monday afternoons: clean out the last of the stuff from Sunday, take a first look at the next Sunday's readings, email & phone calls, etc., so I can hit Tuesdays hard and get a lot done for the week. But I just felt punky yesterday - worn out and like I needed a break (after two weeks of being at the church at least once every day, you think I might have needed to stop?). So even though I was far from incapacitated, I did stay home yesterday. But we didn't get as much rest as we'd hoped, for our little Princess has decided she's too good to hold her own sippy cup anymore: she just walks up to you and throws the damned thing in your lap, then throws a fit if you don't pick her up and shove it into her face. The other fun bit is Ainsley's complete 180 regarding the Leapfrog Farm Magnet Matt & Sweetie and Kiddo gave her for her 1st birthday. On Sunday, she couldn't get enough of it. Now, she pokes the button, freaks out when the song starts, but continues to freak out if you turn the sound off. What. The. F#$@. Is. This?

Now, this morning. First, I forgot to get more coffee at the market yesterday, so I was down to dragging the last beans out of the coffee jar this morning and grinding the hell out of them to get the brew strong enough (finer grind = more surface contact = stronger coffee. You get that for free). But the filter folded over for some reason, grounds plugged the driphole on our coffeemaker, and with Ainsley throwing a sippy-cup fit in the basement, I came upstairs for my first cup to find coffee everywhere, EXCEPT in the pot, of course. grrrrr

I'm still a bit sick: feeling achy and clearing that nasty, rust-flavored phlegm out of my lungs when I cough. Voice is getting there, thankfully, but it's going to be a bit yet. At least today I sound marginally human. Grrrrr

And it snowed. Again. Several inches. Had to shovel instead of getting out for my morning run. GRRRRRRRR

After all of this, I was, as stated previously, pissy. GRRRRRRRRROWL Snapped at the wife. Snapped at the kid. Grumbled my way through my shower and a cup of hot chocolate (please, God, SOMETHING with caffeine to take the edge off). I stumbled into the market to buy coffee beans and decided I should splurge and get a Starbucks before I bit someone's head off.

Thus far it's keeping me sane. And I'm the only one here. Perhaps a sign on my office door (caution: caffeine addict in detox) might be in order. But hey, I just called Beloved and she's forgiven me - because I'm a lucky bastard, and sometimes, that's enough.

So, that's the present state of things: Temptation, Recuperation, Addiction, Exasperation. I'll add Contrition and Exoneration, considering Beloved and I are doing okay now. The last, then, for today will be this: Completion.

Friday Five: First Friday of Lent

1. Did you celebrate Mardi Gras and/or Ash Wednesday this week? How?
We did a pseudo-Fat Tuesday this week: ate good, thick crust, Chicago-style pizza with lotsa meat & a few veggies, and watched a movie. Not that we're giving up movies for Lent - it just seemed like something fun to do.

2. What was your most memorable Mardi Gras/Ash Wednesday/Lent?
I remember one Lent where a girl with whom I was head over heels in love ended the relationship. Turns out I was a "not so sure about the guy I want to marry, so I'm going to explore a bit" guy - and I do say that with kindness intended. Years later, of course: at the time I was devastated. Anyhoo, Lent was definitely a walk in the wilderness that year: as one of my friends put it, I was a "mucking fess."

3. Did you/your church/your family celebrate Lent as a child? If not, when and how did you discover it?
We went to midweek services, and the ones I remember most were when Pastor Marek was our pastor, because we did a Service of the Word from our hymnal, and we sang canticles, which we'd never done before. I can still sing them in my head: "We believe / that Jesus Christ / has died for us, and has risen from the dead. / He is our saving Lord / He is joy for all nations."

4. Are you more in the give-up camp, or the take-on camp, or somewhere in between?
I'm in the Both-And camp this year. Giving up red meat and other kinds of meat when possible (can't go WITHOUT meat if I want to share meals with my pregnant spouse), no alcohol or ice cream, and more exercise. Mostly, I'm trying to follow the advice of Michael Pollan: "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants."

5. How do you plan to keep Lent this year?
With joy. I'm reading Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and he and others insist that disciplines are to be undertaken with joy, not sorrow, for in learning to hold the world lightly we learn to cling all the more to Christ, "like water to a pitcher," as Martin Luther once said. I'll be glad when I can lift a beer again, but I'm also excited to think about the health benefits and, most importantly, the way my own walk with God may change this year.

Sermon for Ash Wednesday: "Ordinary Dust, Extraordinary Discipleship"

Preaching Texts

Every year about this time, my campus pastor would start hectoring us about our Lenten disciplines. “What are you going to give up?” he’d demand, and every year it seemed like Larry would badger us into really sacrificing for Lent. One year, my roommate and I decided to join Larry in giving up smoking at the Center for Lent. It was that year when we discovered that disciplines are only disciplines if you can keep yourself from skirting the rules. We went so far as figuring out how far away from the Center we had to stand before we could have our cigarettes in good conscience. After that year, I gave up giving things up for Lent – because it just wasn’t working.

Maybe you’ve decided to take up a discipline for Lent this year. You’ve picked up a devotion book somewhere and you’re going to spend some time reflecting on God’s word every day. You’ve chosen to abstain from meat or beer or chips or soap operas or anchovies or something you really love. Good for you, and if I can help you in any way, let me know. But Jesus had something to say about these things: Beware. It is his warning we must also heed as we move from the revelation of Epiphany to our prayers of supplication in Lent.

Have mercy on us, Lord Jesus. You call us to humility and service – help us to be humble and serve. Tear down our love of attention and build in us a desire to help the poor, to pray honestly, to hold the things of this world lightly. Amen.

“The call to be extraordinary is the great, inevitable danger of discipleship…The extraordinary is not supposed to happen in order to be seen…[it] should not be done for the sake of its being extraordinary.”[1] So wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his book Nachfolge. He agreed with Martin Luther that spiritual disciplines, no matter how extraordinary, have no value in and of themselves, and can become dangerous to us because they can lead us into sins like pride, self-righteousness and exclusivity.

But Bonhoeffer also said this: “A life which remains without any ascetic discipline, which indulges in all the desires of the flesh as long as they are ‘permitted’ by the civil order [justitia civilis], will find it difficult to enter the service of Christ. Satiated flesh is unwilling to pray and is unfit for self-sacrificing service.”[2] So, which is it? Which fire are we playing with as Lent begins: the slow smolder of our souls choking on our excess, or the searing heat of pride from our extraordinary spiritual disciplines?

The answer, of course, is neither. Tonight we gather to remember that the fire is already out when it comes to our Sin, and Sin won the battle over us. Tonight we are marked in ashes as a reminder of who we are: broken, sinful, mortal women and men who have no hope of overcoming our sin in this life. We are dust, and to dust we shall return. But there is another here tonight who has the power to raise up mortals out of the dust, to breathe Spirit into lifeless clay and make it live, and that one, Jesus Christ, has promised us that He has won the victory over our sin, that every day we live is a day when He washes away the ashes of our sin, cleansing us through His cross, raising us out of the tomb with Him into resurrection life, both here and in the kingdom to come.

Tonight we are marked with our death as a reminder that we have no power over it. Bonhoeffer wrote, “The first Christ-suffering that everyone has to experience is the call which summons us away from our attachments to this world. It is the death of the old self in the encounter with Jesus Christ. Those who enter into discipleship enter into Jesus’ death. They turn their living into dying; such has been the case from the very beginning. The cross is not the terrible end of a pious, happy life. Instead, it stands at the beginning of community with Jesus Christ. Whenever Christ calls us, his call leads us to death.”[3] But I tell you tonight, this death is a death we need, for God puts us to death in our sin so that Christ may raise us up to new life, through the covenant made through Baptism, lovingly maintained through the forgiving power of His body and blood.

The first Lenten discipline is the one which renders all other disciplines moot: the ashes which mark us as those who will die. But we who will die must also live and follow and serve the best that we can. May your journey this Lent be one which strengthens your faith and trust in Jesus Christ. May you learn what it means to follow in ordinary ways, on ordinary days, even when others around you think it extraordinary. May you discover joy and meaning as the ashes of your sin are washed away by the extraordinary grace of Jesus Christ, your Savior. Amen.

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[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works, vol. 4: Discipleship. © 2001 Augsburg Fortress. p. 148-149.

[2] Ibid., p. 158

[3] Ibid., p. 87.

Thoughts On Who We Are

My friend LutheranHusker posted a Synod Vision thing over at his place yesterday. It was great. Some really helpful stuff there.

We're going to be heading into a vision process soon, and I like some of the questions the Synod asked LH and others. But one item I've been considering quite often is "authenticity." As in, "we don't try to BE contemporary/traditional/high church/low church/the frozen chosen of Lake Wobegon/people who 'just want to pray for' spiritual revival/what have you - we ARE what God makes us, right here, in many different ways." Sometimes I'm afraid that "visioning" takes us out of "who we are" in favor of "who can we be in order that we get as many people in the door as possible." 'Cause let's face it, the dark side of getting all those people in the door is our attraction to the money all those people will hopefully put in the offering plates. Rich churches are not by definition faithful churches!

Granted, stewardship and evangelism are important parts of being the church. So is being willing to try new things in order that others might feel drawn into a faith community. But the minute we hold up the mirror to ourselves and notice all the new, big, wonderful things we're trying, it becomes more about us and less about God. And that scares me.

This church stuff is messy. Sunday's texts, I think, are far more about identity than morality, but on the surface it sure seems like morality is what people really want today. I don't know what to think about all this, but it certainly has captured my attention over the past 24 hours: I've hardly been able to think about anything else.

Our Messy Little Lutheran

So, yesterday morning we discovered that crunchy cereal might taste good, but it PLAYS even better:



Everyone says how much Ainsley looks like her Daddy. Who knew she also shared my preference for coffee?

relax, folks - the mug was empty when she grabbed it...

At least we know she's Lutheran and she is, indeed, my daughter. But, hopefully, she'll never grow up to look like this:


And that's the latest pictures of our life in Ames...

Class, courtesy of LutheranHusker

Nuff said.

Duma Key and the Monday Morning Playing With The Kid iTunes Shuffle

I'll admit to being a HUGE Stephen King fan - have been ever since I read Cujo in 4th grade (yep, you read that right...). But even with the admittedly familiar elements of this book (traumatic accident creates vast alienation for protagonist, who fills the void with creepy pursuits that he doesn't immediately realize are supernatural; see Bag of Bones and Lisey's Story for past attempts at this story), Duma Key is the scariest novel I've read in quite a while. As I was finishing it Friday and Saturday night, the story creeped me out enough that the noises our cats made after I went to bed made me get up and check to make sure it was only the cats making all the noise. That, folks, is the sign of a good, scary, fascinating read. As usual, the strong characters that King weaves out of thin air make you wish you knew them in real life, especially Edgar, the main character, Wireman, his new best friend, and Jack, Edgar's assistant. And a series of interludes on the nature of creativity, as one book critic noted, is a great window into King's own creative process. All in all, it was a great break from Bleak House for me - and now, back to Dickens and Jarndyce and Jarndyce.

So, then, here's the iTunes shuffle:

1. "Happy Go Lucky Local" - Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra, Live in Swing City - Swingin' with Duke
2. "The Ladies In Town All Know My Name" - Strong Bad, Strong Bad Sings and Other Type Hits
3. "Minas Morgul" - Howard Shore, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
4. "Standin' Round Crying" - Eric Clapton, From the Cradle
5. "New Love" - Chris Cunningham, House Concert
6. "Pull" - Justin Roth, Shine
7. "Tennessee Stud" - The Chieftains, Down the Old Plank Road: The Nashville Sessions
8. "Bigger Than My Body" - John Mayer, Heavier Things
9. "Uranus, the Magician" - Gustav Holst, performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, James Levine, Cond., Holst: The Planets (stop that snickering...)
10. "Another Time" - Storyhill, This Side of Lost
11. "Tight Rope" - Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble, Greatest Hits
12. "There's Always One More Time" - Harry Connick, Jr., 30
13. "Cottontail" - Wynton Marsalis & the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra, Live in Swing City - Swingin' with Duke
14. "Interlude" - Igor Stravinsky, The Composer (Robert Craft; the orchestra of St. Luke's)
15. "Finale" - The Chieftains, Live from Dublin - A Tribute to Derek Bell
16. "Rondeau" - Canadian Brass, Fireworks! (Baroque Brass Favorites)
17. "Undercurrent Blues" - Benny Goodman, Ken Burns Jazz: Benny Goodman
18. "Out Of My Mind" - John Mayer Trio, Try! [Live]
19. "Bona & Paul" - Wynton Marsalis, Standard Time, Volume 3: The Resolution of Romance
20. "Looking Back" - Nat King Cole, The Very Best of Nat King Cole

The Painting Project, or Why I Haven't Been Blogging Much Lately

Last weekend was the big push to get our bedroom and the bathroom in our new house repainted before the carpet was installed. As you may remember from my Facebook page, here's what we started with:


Middle Bro and I started Saturday morning by scoring that lovely border and spraying the heck out of it with that wallpaper-remover stuff. We had most all of it cleared away by lunchtime, by which time Kristin's sister and her family had also arrived. After a hearty sandwich and chips lunch we finished taping and started priming:



After the primer dried, we started on the walls - a nice brown for three, and a vibrant cranberry as an accent. Here's the first coat going on:




We finished everything but the third coat of the cranberry and the trimming by Sunday afternoon. Monday night and Tuesday morning I finished things up, completing the cranberry trimwork just before the carpet installers got to work. Here is the finished product:



All in all, I'm really happy how things turned out. Hopefully all our projects will go this well!

Sermon for the Transfiguration of our Lord - "On Time and Waiting"

Preaching Texts

When I was much, much younger, the highlight of my summer was the 4^th of July. Baseball is a big deal in my hometown, and the 4^th was the biggest night of the summer between the end of school and the start of the state playoffs. We played the next town over every 4^th of July, and it was always an entertaining game. But what made the 4^th of July extra special for me, like many other boys under the age of 15, was the fireworks show.

It seemed like darkness would never come on those magical 4^th of July nights when I was a kid. The game would get over and the lights would go out, but there was still that glimmer of dusk in the air and so we’d wait. We’d wait and we’d wait and we’d wait, until, finally, the first flash of light would pop over the outfield fence, and we knew that everything for which we’d waited had finally come.

Why did we have to wait, on those summer nights when I was a kid? It was a question of time. We waited because the time wasn’t yet quite right for the fireworks show. The people running the show knew that the flash and sparkle of the fireworks would be at their height if they waited until the time was right, when darkness had descended and the audience would be even more impressed by the grandeur of the show. So we waited, until the time was right for things to come to pass.

Waiting is something not many of us know how to handle. There’s an internet commercial going around about the Slowskys, a family of turtles who prefer waiting for their dial-up service rather than having the instant response of broadband. It’s satire, of course: doesn’t everyone want faster downloads and better response time from their computer? After a 15 year hiatus, Domino’s reinstated their 30 minute pizza delivery process last year. But in our reading from Exodus today, we hear how Moses waited. And waited. And waited. Seven days on the mountaintop, and we have to ask ourselves: what was the point of all that waiting? What happens with all that time?

There’s an ancient Celtic belief in “thin places;” places where the world we know comes into close proximity with the eternal. I think that any place can be a “thin place” if God chooses it to be so, and that waiting has something to do with that. I believe that Moses was called onto the mountaintop to wait so that when God’s glory came near, the full impact would be made upon him. I believe that sometimes God lets time run until the time is right for the eternal to come near, and that in the places where that happens the waiting and the experience combine to allow incarnation to happen, the eternal reshaping the temporal into a closer approximation of the image in which it was first created. And I believe you and I know these times when they happen – we just don’t always think God has anything to do with it.

I remember taking a walk with Kristin on a snowy afternoon a few weeks after we started dating – that walk seemed to last for hours, but at the same time, when it was over, it was like we’d just left the coffee shop where it started. I had the same feeling the day Ainsley was born. Yesterday morning I had coffee with Dave Krumm, our board president; he shared the story of catching an 8 pound trout in a lake in Montana, and I knew from the way he told it that for him, that was a thin place, a memory and a time that stretched into eternity and lasted only a heartbeat. I believe that God was involved in all these moments, and I believe you know moments like that in your own life, too – moments when the eternal burst into our time-bound world and changed things forever.

The ancient Greeks had two words for time: chronos and kairos. Chronos is watch time, appointment time, bus schedule time. Chronos is measured in units, from nanoseconds to millennia, but the units are set and do not change. A minute is a minute is a minute. The world record in the mile is held by Hicham El Guerroj of Morocco, 3:43.13 – you can mark off that amount of time on a stopwatch. Kairos is different. Kairos is the kind of time we’re talking about today. Kairos is time stretched thin, either in waiting or in the experience. Kairos time can’t be measured in units, but in the memory and in the soul. Hicham El Guerroj of Morocco may hold the world record for the mile, but on the day in 1954 when Roger Bannister ran the first sub-four minute mile, kairos stretched that four minutes into an eternity and compacted it into an instant. On my watch, the day Ainsley was born lasted 24 hours: in my soul, Kairos stretched that day into an eternity. The same was true for Moses on the mountaintop, for Peter, James and John on the mountaintop with Jesus, also. Time stood still while they waited for God to come near, and once God did, nothing was the same ever again.

These moments when Kairos and Chronos combine are the moments when incarnation happens. The word we translate as “glory” in Hebrew is dbok;. It literally means weighty, heavy – the Latin word would be gravitas – wholeness & immensity. In a world filled with frivolity and meaninglessness, God’s presence can be unbearably demanding and even harsh, but it also is uncontrollable, unpredictable, utterly worth the wait. To be brought into the presence of God, the very power of all eternity, is transformational – you can never be the same again. These are moments that transform the rest of your life.

When the full dbok; of Jesus was revealed to Peter, James and John on the mountaintop, though, it was more than those three disciples who were changed. The whole world was changed by the Transfiguration of our Lord, because those three disciples became the tellers of the story, those who were changed by their kairos moment with Jesus and couldn’t keep it to themselves. But even kairos can take a little chronos to come to full impact. Jesus asked them to wait to reveal what they’d seen, because sometimes God uses chronos time to let those kairos moments mature into the live-giving faith they would need to speak clearly about what they had seen and who they believed Jesus really was and is and will be.

So the questions for us rise up today. What am I waiting for in my faith? Do I trust God when changes don’t happen instantly? Have I learned to remain in the presence of God while God is silent? Do I take God’s silence as an opportunity to practice the faith I’ve been given? Is God transforming me in the waiting time as well, or only in the immediate moment of God’s glorious presence? I think that kairos is what will help us learn to answer these questions – not with absolutely certain knowledge, but with the hope and trust that simply asking the questions means we’re on the way of following Jesus. In the early church, people went through a three year period of teaching called “catechesis” before they were baptized; it’s where we get our modern word “catechism” and it is the root of what we call “Confirmation.” It takes TIME for God to transform us, both chronological time and kairotic time, thin time, where God steps into our world and the dbok; and gravitas of God’s presence transforms us into something new.

But this isn’t always the easiest thing to bear. In fact, sometimes it seems like our church doesn’t WANT transformation, doesn’t WANT the true presence of God, BECAUSE of the power and weight and gravitas that presence brings. Writer Annie Dillard once wrote: “Does anyone have the foggiest idea of what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets! Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews! For the sleeping God may awake someday and take offense, or the waking God may draw us to where we can never return.”[1]

This is that the Transfiguration of our Lord means: when God’s kairotic presence invades our chronological world, whether we are waiting or caught up in a moment unprepared, nothing is ever the same. Were it not for the love of Jesus, the presence of God would be more powerful than we could bear. But look at the end of our gospel text today. Jesus touches his beloved disciples and says, “Get up, and do not be afraid.” The touch of Jesus reassures and calms the fears of the ones caught up in the dbok; of God’s presence. In Jesus, God is both overwhelming, immeasurable gravity and serene, kind reassurance. This is time worth waiting for. This is a Savior worth every moment we have. This is glory worth worshiping. Amen.

---

[1] Dillard, Annie. Teaching a Stone to Talk © 1988, Harper Perennial.

YOU GOTTA GOTTA GOTTA GOTTA SEE THIS MOVIE

We watched the movie "Once" last night. Oh, man, it's just too good for words. Here's a video clip with the best song from the movie.



Go out to your nearest video store and rent it NOW. The language is a bit rough in bits, but it is SO worth it!

The Friday Five: Options Edition

Sally has the Friday Five for RevGals & Pals today:

There is so much going on this weekend that I thought I'd provide an options Friday 5!!!!
First Superbowl ( someone explain to this Brit the significance)- love it or hate it?5 reasons please!!!!!
Second, Candlemas/ Imbloc/ Groundhog day/ St Brigid's day- all of these fall on either the 1st or 2nd February.
1. Do you celebrate one or more of these?
2. How?
3. Is this a bit of fun or deeply significant?
4. Are festivals/ Saints days important to you?
5.Name your favourite Saints day/ celebration.
Bonus- 2nd Feburary is also my Birthday- I will donate £1.00 for every comment on my Friday Five Post to the Methodist Relief and Development Fund.

Okay, first, the Super Bowl (note the spelling correction):
1. It's the epitome of 21st Century American sport - flash and brutality combined. Used to be the World Series, but we're not the same country we were 50 years ago. It's no coincidence that American football uses military terms like "blitz," "attack" and "protection." Where do you think "shock and awe" comes from?
2. The showbiz aspect of the event cannot be overemphasized. The majority of Americans can't even afford tickets to the game, but it's still a sellout every time. The game itself matters little - it's all show, baby.
3. Commercials, commercials, commercials. Again, it's the glitter and the show that matters.
4. Halftime? A chance to see if artists can still rock (Prince, U2, Aerosmith) or if they flop (Paul McCartney, Janet Jackson before the infamous malfunction).
5. There are some of us who actually love football - we watch because it's the last game we'll get to see until August.

Now, as to saints' days, etc. I hadn't heard of Imbolc until you mentioned it today, Sally, though I had heard the name Candlemas but had no idea what it signified. Needless to say, it's not a high day on the Johnson family calendar. Neither is Groundhog Day - seems like the oddest little "holiday" I know. For my money, the best thing about Groundhog Day is the movie of the same name starring Bill Murray.
I do have some interest in Celtic and Irish festivals, just because the culture fascinates me - so mark me down on the "bit of fun" side of things. There is some concern for me about idolatry, but no more so than for my love of Tolkien - the artistic, ethical and moral truths behind the stories are what draws me to these myths and legends, while faith in the triune God is what gives me life itself.
Our American Lutheran church doesn't celebrate many saints' days, though there are some pockets of "high church" Lutheranism around the country who do celebrate them in many different ways. For Lutherans, the most celebrated festival day would be Reformation Day, 31 October (yes, All Saints' Eve), which is the day we believe Martin Luther first posted the 95 Theses on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Saxony in 1517. Lots of us love to "do it up" for Reformation Day (or Reformation Sunday, the last Sunday in October each year) - we wear red (represents the Holy Spirit and the martyrs of the church), we sing Luther hymns (especially "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God") and we preach about ecclesia reforma semper reformanda - "the church, reformed, is constantly reforming."
We do celebrate other festivals, especially All Saints' Sunday, Pentecost, Holy Trinity and Christ the King. But for Lutherans, Reformation Sunday is a big deal.
Thanks, Sally - this was fun!

Page 123 Tag

Thanks, Tripp!

The Rules:-
Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. (No cheating!)
Find Page 123.
Find the first 5 sentences.
Post the next 3 sentences.
Tag 5 people.

I'm going to look so much smarter than reality by happy coincidence (what Tolkien would have called eucatastrophe). Here's my play:

Contempt for others makes worship dishonest and deprives it of any divine promise. Individuals as well as church communities who intend to enter God's presence with contemptuous or unreconciled hearts are playing games with an idol. As long as we withhold service and love from a sister or brother, as long as he or she remains a target of our contempt, as long as a sister or brother has something against me or Jesus' community, our offerings will remain unaccepted.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Discipleship (from which the title of this blog is taken: the German title is Nachfolge or "following after"). The only reason this was the nearest book is that I took the new Stephen King novel, Duma Key, upstairs with me last night. Discipleship then became the nearest book because it was in my backpack when we moved - everything else is still in boxes.

I tag Matt, LutherPunk, Hot Cup, Songbird and Church Nerd. Have at it, folks.

Sermonating on a Quiet Midwestern Wednesday

Wow, is it ever quiet here today. ONE person has walked through the door since I got to the office at 9:30 this morning: my administrator, stopping in for just a little bit of work she had to finish today. I've read two issues of The Lutheran, last week's Newsweek (still getting forwarded to us from Minnesota), this morning's Des Moines Register, and now for the last two hours I've been working on my sermon for Sunday by reading links at Textweek. I'm hoping to have a manuscript by tomorrow afternoon. Shhhhh, don't tell anybody.

There are some great folks out there posting stuff for sermon reflection. Two of my favorites are Dan Clendenin and Brian Stoffregen. Check them out if you need inspiration and/or thoughtful reflection on the texts for the week.

Speaking of helpful sermon stuff, Luther Seminary has a new preaching site: Working Preacher. Weekly commentary on the three lectionary texts is usually very helpful. Plus, Mark Throntveit, Professor of Old Testament at Luther Seminary, fellow Tolkien nut and self-proclaimed curmudgeon (though I don't think he's actually reached the age at which one can legally use the term self-referentially) has posted a great piece, "New Year's Resolutions for Preachers" .

I've heard this quote from Annie Dillard mentioned several times this week already:

“Does anyone have the foggiest idea of what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets! Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews! For the sleeping God may awake someday and take offense, or the waking God may draw us to where we can never return.”[1]

That's good stuff there, too. Put that book on my Amazon wishlist, if anyone's so inclined.

Tonight it's going to get busier here. We'll have choir practice at 8:00, followed by Holden Evening Prayer at 9:00 and pizza at 9:30 (again, campus ministry ROCKS). Will we have even more students in attendance this week, again? Hope so. But at some point the novelty of "the new guy" will wear off, and then I can really get to work.

Our good friend, JZ, who is a Baptist sometime-preacher, church janitor, sometime-mortician, erstwhile middle school English teacher and promoter of Public Television, made us a mix CD before we left for Iowa. He's been known to pass on music occasionally, ever since he discovered that we share a love for U2, Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash. I've been listening to it nonstop in the car ever since - it's a neat collection. Here are a few of the selections:
"Gloria" and "40" by U2 from Under A Blood Red Sky
"The Man Comes Around" and "Personal Jesus" by Johnny Cash from American IV: The Man Comes Around (yes, that last is a remake of the Depeche Mode classic. It's incredible)
"People, Get Ready" by the Blind Boys of Alabama & Robert Randolph
Good stuff, all of it. Thanks, JZ - it was a very thoughtful gift. Well, that's about it for this Wednesday - think I'll call the ladies and see if they want to make a Target run before I have to get ready for worship tonight. We need cat food. Well, the cats need cat food - we just need them to shut up about it. Anyway, I'm gonna get going. See yah.

Peace,
Scott

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[1] Dillard, Annie. Teaching a Stone to Talk © 1988, Harper Perennial.

Our Itty Bitty Helper

The unpacking continues. Actually, we're much further along than these pictures show, but I wanted y'all to see our little helper in action.

First, we had to get her unpacked. Man, those movers will pack ANYTHING! :-)

2008 World Man Croquet Championships

This week's entry from the "No, I'm NOT Kidding" department comes from my old college roommate, Coulter, known to friends as "Cousin Eddie." Coulter lives in an undisclosed location in Minnesota, where he has far too much free time on his hands. Thus the following email, which I received a few weeks ago:

It's once again time for what has become an annual tradition. You are all cordially invited to participate in this invigorating winter activity. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this, it's quite simple. It's exactly like lawn croquet with a few minor variations. First off, we got rid of those wimpy little wooden balls and upsized them to bowling balls. Then since the balls are much heavier, we've discarded the tiny little mallets that were really only good for whacking your kid brother in favor of something a smidge bigger, sledge hammers. We've also replaced the flimsy wire loops with re-bar. And to really make it interesting, we play it on a frozen pond.

The Man Croquet Championship of the Free World will be held on Saturday, the 19th of January commencing at noon and continuing until it's done, which last year was sometime in the wee hours of Sunday morning. We will be playing once again on the meticulously groomed frozen surface of Lake Libra located at the Libra Ranch, which is just a couple miles west of [Unnamed Minnesota Town]. The address is [Insert Complicated 911 Address Here]. If you require more detailed directions, please ask.

A few other things to note, first off, dress appropriately. It's cold out there. Second, you will need to bring your own beverages. You can also bring along snack items to share as well. Third, be prepared to take penalty shots. We make the rules for these up as we go along. Also new for this year, ice cleats will be allowed and running on the ice will not. Kent can explain why these changes were made if you wish to know.

Hope to see you all there. If for no other reason than just to say that you've seen something new.

And just to make sure you believe me, here are the pictures from this year's event:











Sometimes words just don't do people justice. You rock, Coulter - see you at the ISU game in October. But bring your own beer.