Anna Blaedel
First UMC, Osage
August 23, 2009
Psalm 84
Ephesians 6:10-20
This morning’s lectionary texts are about holiness. Righteousness. Holy living and right living. Faithfulness. Kin-dom building and Kin-dom living. Standing for what is good and beautiful. Resisting what destroys. Participating in what builds up. Perfect fodder for a preacher, right?
Which made me think of an email I received from one of you, about a month ago. The email read: “One day God was looking down at Earth and saw all of the rascally behavior that was going on. So, God called an angel and sent the angel to Earth for a time. When the angel returned, the angel told God, “Yes, it is pretty bad down there; 95% are misbehaving and only 5% are not.” God thought for a moment and said, “Maybe I had better send down a second angel to get another opinion.” So God sent another angel to Earth for a visit. When the angel returned, the angel went to God and said, “Yes, it’s true. The Earth is in pretty bad shape; 95% are misbehaving, but 5% are being good.” God wasn’t sure what to do. So, God decided to email the 5% that were good, because God wanted to encourage them and give them a little positive affirmation to keep them going…
Do you know what the e-mail said?
Ok. I was just wondering, because I didn’t get one either."
Let us pray: May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all of our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O God, who is strengthening and redeeming…
Holiness. Righteousness. Holy living and right living. Faithfulness. Kin-dom building and Kin-dom living. Standing for what is good and beautiful. Resisting what destroys. Participating in what builds up. It can be dangerous to preach about this as a preacher, because it is too easy to pretend like preachers have it all figured out. It can be dangerous to sing and talk and study and pray about this as people of faith, because it is too easy for “us” to pretend “we’ve” got it all figured out and that it is “them,” whoever “they” are, who need to shape up and learn a lesson and find the truth.
To do this is to miss the meaning entirely. The psalmist and epistle writers teach us: We are each the us and each the they. We are each the 95% rascal and 5% good. We are each beautiful and good, and each in need of cultivating and living out of beauty and goodness. We each dwell already in the house of God, and we each are invited always to find our way back home to the Holy One for refuge and rest. We are each able to restore, and each in need of restoration. We are each in need of kindness, and each able to extend kindness. We each have something to teach, and each have something to learn. We are each powerful beyond our wildest imagination, and each in need of accessing collective power that is far greater than the force of any one individual. We are each, as the writer to the letter to the Ephesian people warns, capable of participating in the work of destruction, of being swept away by the rulers and authorities, the cosmic powers of injustice and forces of destruction, and we are each capable of standing against these forces, of confronting what is harmful and unjust.
These biblical texts are not about distinguishing between “us” and “them,” whoever the “us” and “they” happen to be. To use these pieces of scripture as a battle cry cuts counter to the whole message—for it is the gospel of peace we are to be ready to proclaim.
The biblical writers are not issuing a battle cry, but they are using the language and metaphor prevalent to the time—speaking to people who have been at war with one another, who have been pitting themselves against one another, and who have been neglecting to let the spiritual values forming the core of who they are shape what they do and how they live. The armor of the Emperor, over and against the armor of God. The people of Ephesus would have known Paul’s letter to the people of Rome, and would have heard this text in the context of Romans 12:17-21—“Do not repay anyone evil for evil…If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves…No, but rather, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink…Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good…”
The original intended audience of the epistle to the Ephesians, much like us, now, knew plenty of war. Of destruction and division. The author anticipates excuses from his readers, protests of helplessness in the face of all the forces arrayed against them. Bad economies. Threats of violence. Abuse and oppression. Protests of pragmatism, and self interest, and justification.
The author insists there is no excuse. Beloved community is theirs to build. The goodness and strength of God is theirs to claim. So the author resorts to the common military image of body armor that his audience would have seen on Roman soldiers daily, but in a critical twist, he reinvents the image in a most non-militaristic way. The common parts of armor—belt, breastplate, shield—are assigned to uncommon values: truth, righteousness, faith. The symbol of self-reliance is transformed into a symbol of interdependence—God, self, neighbor, other. The kingdom of Rome is transformed into the kin-dom of God.
To be kin-dom dwellers, to overcome evil with good, to live gospel values of love, compassion, justice, kindness, peace, and beloved community in a world that sometimes seems to reward only fear, distrust, injustice, greed, war, and divided interest groups, this indeed requires some kind of armor. Or rather, some really intentional preparation, each morning, throughout the day, in every interaction, when it comes easily, and when it does not.
Fasten the belt of truth around your waist. Put on the breastplate of righteousness. Take up the shield of faith, with which you might quench all the forces that threaten and destroy. Take the helmet of salvation;, the sword not of the army by of the Spirit. As for shoes for your feet, put on whatever will ready you to proclaim the gospel of peace. So that all of who we are, all of what we do, might build up what is good and beautiful and blessed and true. What is of God.
In Wishful Thinking, Frederick Buechner writes, "If you want to know who you really are as distinct from who you like to think you are, keep an eye on where your feet take you." In Psalm 84, the psalmist writes, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Creator of all that is beautiful and good! My soul longs, indeed it faints for the house of my God; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, O Creator of all, my God, my Guide. Happy are those who live in your house, ever singing your praise.” And, in Ephesians, the epistle writer writes, “Be centered in the strength of God’s power and love. Stand against what is contrary to God’s goodness. Struggle against the rulers, the authorities, the powers of injustice, the forces of destruction. Proclaim the gospel of peace.”
This past week I had a conversation with a friend of mine from seminary about this week’s lectionary readings. This friend is connected with the world of high fashion, a costume designer, the person who picked out my outfits in seminary for job interviews and board of ordination interviews, for parties and social events, and, when I would allow it, for class and meals and trips to the grocery store. I ran some thoughts about this “armor of God” wardrobe, this fashionplate of faith, by my friend, and asked for their thoughts. Specifically, I wondered aloud what the shoes of peace might look like, and whether bare feet might suffice. My friend noted that the author of Ephesians doesn’t commit to any one style of shoes as the most appropriate.
My friend supposed wing-tips or high heeled pumps seemed sufficient, and that even Crocs or flip-flops would do. But, spreading peace is awfully hard work, we mused, and building beloved community, being kin-dom creators and dwellers, living lives of justice, compassion, kindness and connection—this doesn’t come easy, and finally we decided a pair of work boots might be best, perhaps reinforced with steel toes.
I will leave it to you to decide what you put on your feet, what your righteous breastplate might portray, what kind of truth you need wrapped about your waist as a constant reminder. I will leave it to you, each of you, to decide how you are already dwelling in God’s kin-dom here on earth, how you are standing for what is good and beautiful, and how you are resisting forces of destruction, and how you are looking for and finding ways to build up. Remember my note of caution: If can be dangerous to preach about holiness and righteousness because it is too easy to pretend that preachers have it all figured out. And, it can be dangerous to sing and talk and study and pray about holiness and righteousness as people of faith, because it is too easy for “us” to pretend “we’ve” got it all figured out and that it is “them,” whoever “they” are, who need to shape up and learn and lesson and find the truth.
I will, however, close with another email I received, this time twice in one week, by two of you. In this email, you will hear the unknown author trying to distinguish between holy and righteous living, and living that is missing the mark. Between what matters, really, and what does not. Between dominant cultural values, and kin-dom of God values.
God doesn’t care what kind of clothes you have in your closet, but how many people you help clothe.
God doesn’t care what kind of car you drive, but how many people you drive who don’t have transportation. (and, I would add, whether you could be walking or riding your bikes rather than driving)
God doesn’t care the square footage or furnishings in your house, but what kind of hospitality you extend to welcome people, whoever they are, into your home.
God doesn’t care how high your salary might climb, but whether you compromise your character to obtain it.
God doesn’t care what your job title is, but whether your work extends kindness and compassion and beauty.
God doesn’t care how many friends you have, or what your social standing is, but how many people to whom you are a friend, and how you treat the people you are least likely to befriend.
God doesn’t care what neighborhood you live in, but how you treat your neighbors, far and near.
God doesn’t care about the color of your skin, or your gender, or your citizenship status, or your sexual orientation, but about the content of your character.
God doesn’t care why we have turned away from righteous living—extending forgiveness, welcoming the stranger, standing up against injustice, waging peace and caring for creation, but whether we are willing to try again and do it differently.
So. Be strong in the Holy One and in the strength of God’s power and love. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against what is contrary to the kin-dom. Fasten the belts of truth around your waists, put on those breastplates of righteousness, take your shields of faith, and helmets of salvation and swords of the Spirit. Pray. Pick a pair of shoes—be they boots or heels or flip flops or Crocs—that will ready you to proclaim the gospel of peace. And, then, now, together, let’s get to work…May it be so. Amen, and amen.
august 16, 2009
Anna Blaedel
First UMC, Osage
08.16.09
Psalm 111
1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
One Spring day, a young man, 29 years old, found himself walking outside, in the country. He saw the ocean of green in rolling hills and fields. He gazed at the blue dome of heaven, the expansive sky stretched over him. He saw the winding Avon River cutting through the green, flowing past the line of the horizon, into the blue of the sky. Overwhelmed with God’s creative brilliance, this young man sat down and scratched out a poem of thanksgiving. A song of gratitude for the beauty of the earth. When Folliot Sandford Pierpoint wrote the hymn we sang to open our time of worship this morning in 1864, he wrote one of the few hymns devoted purely to giving thanks. Folliot often mused that a strange thing about offering thanks and living in an “attitude of gratitude” is that we tend to exhibit it in reverse proportion to the number of blessings we receive. Sometimes, the more we have, the less thankful we are. He wanted to call attention to the beauty of the earth, the glory of the skies, for God’s love which from our birth over and around us lies.
The extraordinary poet Ralph Waldo Emerson invited us to imagine if the constellations of stars dotting the canvas of the night sky appeared only once in a thousand years, imagine what an exciting event it would be! But because they are there every night, we barely give them a look. How many of you have been slipping outside after dark to catch a glimpse of the Perseid meteor showers, radiating from the constellation Perseus, streaking through the sky? This annual meteor shower became visible sometime around July 17, but has been peaking these last few nights with as many as 80 meteors streaking the sky hourly. The view is stunning. The beauty, breathtaking. The heavens are telling the glory of God! And, a perfect form of entertainment in our current economic downturn—all that is required is the willingness to stop. To look. And to stand in awe. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. It begins by being willing to search for beauty. Being open to all that God offers. And then, by being willing to give thanks, for the goodness of God, the beauty of the earth, is already all around us.
Theologian Karl Barth wrote, “Gratitude is the precise creaturely counterpart to the grace of God.” Gratitude as prayer. Prayer as a response to God’s goodness. The psalmist teaches us how to pray.
Hear the echo of the psalmist’s exclamation: Praise God! I will give thanks to God with my whole heart! Great are the works of God! Great are the works of God, studied by all who delight in them! Full of honor and majesty, enduring forever! Holy and full of awe! Awe of God is the beginning of wisdom…
Which brings us to the second of our lectionary texts this morning. Perhaps above all else, Solomon is remembered for his wisdom. Israel’s famous king is remembered for his wisdom, a gift God gave him after he asked not for riches or wealth or long life but for help leading the people wisely and well. Solomon was a young man, probably about 20 years old, when he inherited his reign from Israel’s most famous king, David. The path to the throne wasn’t pretty for Solomon, and it was far from Israel’s finest moment. Solomon wasn’t actually supposed to become king; the title belonged to his older brother Adonijah. And, a number of enemies had to be eliminated to establish Solomon’s firm grip on the monarchy. Solomon suddenly had a lot to live up to, and a lot of work to do.
This morning’s lectionary text is missing part of the story. The tricky, perplexing, vexing part. Notice that our scripture reading jumped from a couple of verses in chapter 2, right on into chapter 3. We jump from David’s death and burial, “his sleeping with his ancestors” as the biblical writer put it, after a forty year reign as king, and Solomon establishing his kingdom, we jump from this right to Solomon’s love for God, his faithfulness not only to his earthly father, but to his heavenly Creator. While Solomon still worships other gods and still makes burnt sacrifices, he is wise. Wise enough to know that, when God comes to him in a dream and offers anything at all, Solomon faithfully requests only more wisdom, so that he might be a wise leader and a good king.
This is faithful and virtuous enough, wise enough already, especially since we haven’t had to wade through verses 13-47. In these verses, Solomon’s brother Adonijah schemes and fights for his right to the throne. He is jealous of the royal harem, these women now the property passed down from David to Solomon. Like most stories of warring kings, jealousy over land, power, and beautiful if subjugated women ensues. So Solomon kills his brother. He sends someone named Benaiah to do his dirty work. And then he banishes the priest Abiathar, the trusted priest of his father, for taking Adonijah’s side. Then, Solomon kills Joab, we aren’t even sure why, just that there is a long history of family fued. Solomon confines Shimei to house arrest in Jerusalem, and when Shimei violates his confinement in order to run after his slaves who are taking the opportunity to escape, Solomon has him killed, too.
Before we get to Solomon’s wisdom, we have a bloody rampage to wade through. Before we get to Solomon’s love for God, we watch as he marries Pharoh’s daughter, taking an Egyptian princess to protect against and prevent political wrangling or battle with Egypt. Before we get to Solomon’s piety, we have a pitiful effort to assert power in every way except the ways God tells us God’s kingdom will come. The contrast becomes clear…A human kingdom of power over foreign enemies rather than God’s kingdom of forgiveness. Of wealth rather than justice. Of violence rather than Shalom, peace, the root of Solomon’s name. Of jealousy and entitlement rather than generosity and sharing. THEN we get to chapter 3, verse 3, where Solomon loves God, and God visits Solomon in a dream, kind of like a genie, granting one singular wish.
Against this backdrop, I can better understand why Solomon didn’t ask for more land or more money or a longer life or the slaughter of his enemies. He already has it all—the title of king that should have gone to someone else, all the land amassed by David, and a new wife (in addition to his inherited harem) who happens to be the princess of Egypt. He has already killed or banished all his enemies, so there isn’t much need to ask God to do this dirty work. Now, what he needs more than anything, is the wisdom to know what to do next. How to do it differently. How to become a good leader, discerning between good and evil, knowing what is right and then following this path of righteousness.
This wish, of course, pleases God. God in turn tells Solomon that indeed, since he already knows he needs to do something differently, since he recognizes that wanton slaughtering and banishing and smiting isn’t going to get him anywhere, since he really does want to learn to be a just and fair and faithful leader, God will guide him, and give him wisdom.
This lectionary reading ends well. Solomon has his chance for transformation. He will go on to build the First Temple in Jerusalem, and he continues to have great wealth and power. But ultimately, commentators seem to agree that the books of 1 and 2 Kings not only tell a story…they provide a lesson in failure. Solomon is a king whose turning away from God leads to the kingdom being torn in two. Solomon fails to do God’s work. He builds his own kingdom, but fails to bring God’s kingdom to this world.
Solomon isn’t the only king guilty of forgetting God’s power and plan in light of his own. The Hebrew people wanted a king, and they made this request before God many times. And scripture offers a relentless 500 year documentation proving that the demand for a king was about the worst thing they could ask for. Rather than the glorious account of people flourishing under wise and good leadership, the stories from this period of Israel’s history compile a sad story of split kingdoms, rivalry, war, and a disasterous exile in Bablyon. The people want a faithful leader so they themselves don’t have to step up. They want a wise king, so they won’t have to seek wisdom, and then do the hard work of acting wisely.
The people think they know what they want, but they don’t want what God wants. They want power over other people. Riches. A nation unrivaled in military power. A leader who will think for the people, and then tell them what to do. But God doesn’t want what they want. This kind of kingdom just doesn’t mesh with the kind of kingdom God is ushering in.
This text offers an opportunity to examine what kind of kingdom we are creating. This text also offers an opportunity to examine our prayer life. Bill Cotton, a recently retired United Methodist pastor in Iowa, talks about being a young man, younger even than Solomon, and struggling with his faith. At fourteen, Bill believed prayer was like magic. Prayer took the form of asking God to make exceptions. A form of making personal requests of God. God, please don’t let my mom find out it was me who left that bruise on my brother’s arm. God, please let me pass this test. God, please don’t let me get a speeding ticket. God, please bless us…us in this family, or us in this church, or us in this country, with more land and more riches and more political power and longer lives…
Theologian Albert Outler taught that it was okay to pray this way only if you also tell God exactly why you should be favored more than others who have the same needs. Such action, Outler said, will shorten the prayer list considerably. He spoke of seeing prayer as something like a cosmic drink dispenser into which you put your money, select your potion, push the button, turn a lever and there you have it—complete with correct change. This kind of prayer assumes a division of labor. We send in an order, and God fills it. Making some allowance for items not in stock, both parties are reasonably satisfied with the deal.
Prayer, Abraham Heschel reminds us, is no substitute for action. Praying for wisdom is empty if is it not joined by continued attempts at the difficult work of acting wisely. Praying for peace is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at studying war no more. Praying for an end to hunger is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at feeding the hungry, and asking why people are hungry to begin with. Praying for forgiveness is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts to forgive. Praying for love is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts to love our neighbors, whoever our neighbors might be. Praying that God will give us more—more beauty, more gifts, more grace, more joy—is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at giving thanks for the beauty, the gifts, the grace, the joy already poured out in and around us. Praying for God’s kingdom to come, on earth as it is in heaven, is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at building God’s kingdom, here and now, over and against the earthly kingdoms standing in the way.
Wisdom, knowing how to live and lead faithfully and justly, is Solomon’s wise response when God offers him anything he wants. Gratitude is to be our response for the grace God already, always, offers. May we be like the psalmist, praising God with our every breath, with our whole hearts. May we have the wisdom to see God’s work, and to know God is merciful and gracious, ever mindful of our covenant. May we learn from Solomon, from his wisdom and from his failings. May we live in awe of God, for this is the beginning of wisdom and understanding. And may we join our awe and praise of God by continued attempts to create God’s kingdom here on earth.
May it be so. Amen, and amen.
First UMC, Osage
08.16.09
Psalm 111
1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
One Spring day, a young man, 29 years old, found himself walking outside, in the country. He saw the ocean of green in rolling hills and fields. He gazed at the blue dome of heaven, the expansive sky stretched over him. He saw the winding Avon River cutting through the green, flowing past the line of the horizon, into the blue of the sky. Overwhelmed with God’s creative brilliance, this young man sat down and scratched out a poem of thanksgiving. A song of gratitude for the beauty of the earth. When Folliot Sandford Pierpoint wrote the hymn we sang to open our time of worship this morning in 1864, he wrote one of the few hymns devoted purely to giving thanks. Folliot often mused that a strange thing about offering thanks and living in an “attitude of gratitude” is that we tend to exhibit it in reverse proportion to the number of blessings we receive. Sometimes, the more we have, the less thankful we are. He wanted to call attention to the beauty of the earth, the glory of the skies, for God’s love which from our birth over and around us lies.
The extraordinary poet Ralph Waldo Emerson invited us to imagine if the constellations of stars dotting the canvas of the night sky appeared only once in a thousand years, imagine what an exciting event it would be! But because they are there every night, we barely give them a look. How many of you have been slipping outside after dark to catch a glimpse of the Perseid meteor showers, radiating from the constellation Perseus, streaking through the sky? This annual meteor shower became visible sometime around July 17, but has been peaking these last few nights with as many as 80 meteors streaking the sky hourly. The view is stunning. The beauty, breathtaking. The heavens are telling the glory of God! And, a perfect form of entertainment in our current economic downturn—all that is required is the willingness to stop. To look. And to stand in awe. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. It begins by being willing to search for beauty. Being open to all that God offers. And then, by being willing to give thanks, for the goodness of God, the beauty of the earth, is already all around us.
Theologian Karl Barth wrote, “Gratitude is the precise creaturely counterpart to the grace of God.” Gratitude as prayer. Prayer as a response to God’s goodness. The psalmist teaches us how to pray.
Hear the echo of the psalmist’s exclamation: Praise God! I will give thanks to God with my whole heart! Great are the works of God! Great are the works of God, studied by all who delight in them! Full of honor and majesty, enduring forever! Holy and full of awe! Awe of God is the beginning of wisdom…
Which brings us to the second of our lectionary texts this morning. Perhaps above all else, Solomon is remembered for his wisdom. Israel’s famous king is remembered for his wisdom, a gift God gave him after he asked not for riches or wealth or long life but for help leading the people wisely and well. Solomon was a young man, probably about 20 years old, when he inherited his reign from Israel’s most famous king, David. The path to the throne wasn’t pretty for Solomon, and it was far from Israel’s finest moment. Solomon wasn’t actually supposed to become king; the title belonged to his older brother Adonijah. And, a number of enemies had to be eliminated to establish Solomon’s firm grip on the monarchy. Solomon suddenly had a lot to live up to, and a lot of work to do.
This morning’s lectionary text is missing part of the story. The tricky, perplexing, vexing part. Notice that our scripture reading jumped from a couple of verses in chapter 2, right on into chapter 3. We jump from David’s death and burial, “his sleeping with his ancestors” as the biblical writer put it, after a forty year reign as king, and Solomon establishing his kingdom, we jump from this right to Solomon’s love for God, his faithfulness not only to his earthly father, but to his heavenly Creator. While Solomon still worships other gods and still makes burnt sacrifices, he is wise. Wise enough to know that, when God comes to him in a dream and offers anything at all, Solomon faithfully requests only more wisdom, so that he might be a wise leader and a good king.
This is faithful and virtuous enough, wise enough already, especially since we haven’t had to wade through verses 13-47. In these verses, Solomon’s brother Adonijah schemes and fights for his right to the throne. He is jealous of the royal harem, these women now the property passed down from David to Solomon. Like most stories of warring kings, jealousy over land, power, and beautiful if subjugated women ensues. So Solomon kills his brother. He sends someone named Benaiah to do his dirty work. And then he banishes the priest Abiathar, the trusted priest of his father, for taking Adonijah’s side. Then, Solomon kills Joab, we aren’t even sure why, just that there is a long history of family fued. Solomon confines Shimei to house arrest in Jerusalem, and when Shimei violates his confinement in order to run after his slaves who are taking the opportunity to escape, Solomon has him killed, too.
Before we get to Solomon’s wisdom, we have a bloody rampage to wade through. Before we get to Solomon’s love for God, we watch as he marries Pharoh’s daughter, taking an Egyptian princess to protect against and prevent political wrangling or battle with Egypt. Before we get to Solomon’s piety, we have a pitiful effort to assert power in every way except the ways God tells us God’s kingdom will come. The contrast becomes clear…A human kingdom of power over foreign enemies rather than God’s kingdom of forgiveness. Of wealth rather than justice. Of violence rather than Shalom, peace, the root of Solomon’s name. Of jealousy and entitlement rather than generosity and sharing. THEN we get to chapter 3, verse 3, where Solomon loves God, and God visits Solomon in a dream, kind of like a genie, granting one singular wish.
Against this backdrop, I can better understand why Solomon didn’t ask for more land or more money or a longer life or the slaughter of his enemies. He already has it all—the title of king that should have gone to someone else, all the land amassed by David, and a new wife (in addition to his inherited harem) who happens to be the princess of Egypt. He has already killed or banished all his enemies, so there isn’t much need to ask God to do this dirty work. Now, what he needs more than anything, is the wisdom to know what to do next. How to do it differently. How to become a good leader, discerning between good and evil, knowing what is right and then following this path of righteousness.
This wish, of course, pleases God. God in turn tells Solomon that indeed, since he already knows he needs to do something differently, since he recognizes that wanton slaughtering and banishing and smiting isn’t going to get him anywhere, since he really does want to learn to be a just and fair and faithful leader, God will guide him, and give him wisdom.
This lectionary reading ends well. Solomon has his chance for transformation. He will go on to build the First Temple in Jerusalem, and he continues to have great wealth and power. But ultimately, commentators seem to agree that the books of 1 and 2 Kings not only tell a story…they provide a lesson in failure. Solomon is a king whose turning away from God leads to the kingdom being torn in two. Solomon fails to do God’s work. He builds his own kingdom, but fails to bring God’s kingdom to this world.
Solomon isn’t the only king guilty of forgetting God’s power and plan in light of his own. The Hebrew people wanted a king, and they made this request before God many times. And scripture offers a relentless 500 year documentation proving that the demand for a king was about the worst thing they could ask for. Rather than the glorious account of people flourishing under wise and good leadership, the stories from this period of Israel’s history compile a sad story of split kingdoms, rivalry, war, and a disasterous exile in Bablyon. The people want a faithful leader so they themselves don’t have to step up. They want a wise king, so they won’t have to seek wisdom, and then do the hard work of acting wisely.
The people think they know what they want, but they don’t want what God wants. They want power over other people. Riches. A nation unrivaled in military power. A leader who will think for the people, and then tell them what to do. But God doesn’t want what they want. This kind of kingdom just doesn’t mesh with the kind of kingdom God is ushering in.
This text offers an opportunity to examine what kind of kingdom we are creating. This text also offers an opportunity to examine our prayer life. Bill Cotton, a recently retired United Methodist pastor in Iowa, talks about being a young man, younger even than Solomon, and struggling with his faith. At fourteen, Bill believed prayer was like magic. Prayer took the form of asking God to make exceptions. A form of making personal requests of God. God, please don’t let my mom find out it was me who left that bruise on my brother’s arm. God, please let me pass this test. God, please don’t let me get a speeding ticket. God, please bless us…us in this family, or us in this church, or us in this country, with more land and more riches and more political power and longer lives…
Theologian Albert Outler taught that it was okay to pray this way only if you also tell God exactly why you should be favored more than others who have the same needs. Such action, Outler said, will shorten the prayer list considerably. He spoke of seeing prayer as something like a cosmic drink dispenser into which you put your money, select your potion, push the button, turn a lever and there you have it—complete with correct change. This kind of prayer assumes a division of labor. We send in an order, and God fills it. Making some allowance for items not in stock, both parties are reasonably satisfied with the deal.
Prayer, Abraham Heschel reminds us, is no substitute for action. Praying for wisdom is empty if is it not joined by continued attempts at the difficult work of acting wisely. Praying for peace is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at studying war no more. Praying for an end to hunger is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at feeding the hungry, and asking why people are hungry to begin with. Praying for forgiveness is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts to forgive. Praying for love is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts to love our neighbors, whoever our neighbors might be. Praying that God will give us more—more beauty, more gifts, more grace, more joy—is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at giving thanks for the beauty, the gifts, the grace, the joy already poured out in and around us. Praying for God’s kingdom to come, on earth as it is in heaven, is empty if it is not joined by continued attempts at building God’s kingdom, here and now, over and against the earthly kingdoms standing in the way.
Wisdom, knowing how to live and lead faithfully and justly, is Solomon’s wise response when God offers him anything he wants. Gratitude is to be our response for the grace God already, always, offers. May we be like the psalmist, praising God with our every breath, with our whole hearts. May we have the wisdom to see God’s work, and to know God is merciful and gracious, ever mindful of our covenant. May we learn from Solomon, from his wisdom and from his failings. May we live in awe of God, for this is the beginning of wisdom and understanding. And may we join our awe and praise of God by continued attempts to create God’s kingdom here on earth.
May it be so. Amen, and amen.
august 9, 2009
Anna Blaedel
First UMC, Osage
August 9, 2009
Psalm 130
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
There are times when a piece of scripture speaks to me, so clearly, so plainly, so deeply that to expound on it, to pick it apart, to interpret it almost seems sacrilegious.
But. This is the task of preaching, of course, the call to preachers: to preach the good news of Jesus…to share God’s living Word…to interpret the context of the scriptures to the context of a faith community, so that together, we might feast on the living word…One of the questions raised in the Wednesday evening Bible study series we brought to a close this past Wednesday was how exactly I come up with the sermon that I share with you on Sunday.
First, I sit down with the scripture. I try to do this Monday morning, so that I can, as the ancient Christian mystics put it, “chew on” the scripture throughout the week. I select, from the lectionary cycle, the assigned scripture for the week, two pieces of biblical text. Often a psalm and a reading from the gospels. Then, I write out these two passages, longhand, word for word. This slows me down, draws my attention to words or phrases I might otherwise miss. Then I pray. I ask God to speak to me through these words. I ask God to guide my mind and my heart. I return to the words or phrases that jumped out at me. For example, after reading this week’s texts on Monday morning, I found myself repeating: “Out of the depths I cry to you…” “I wait for God, my soul waits…” “putting away all falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another…” “let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up…” “be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love…”
Then I read the passages again, and ask God to show me how these words of scripture speak to my life right now, to the life of this community, right now.
Then I read the passages again, asking God to bless me through the reading of these words. I invite God to touch me and change me through my encounter with this living word. And, I pray that God will help me share this word with all of you, that you might be touched and changed through this encounter.
Then, I read the scripture yet again, allowing it to wash over me. This time, I read it aloud. After focusing on particular words or phrases, I invite the entire text to speak to me, and invite myself to rest in and enjoy the experience of being in the presence of God.
Then, I move through the rest of the week, knowing that the feasting I have done on the word goes with me. Each encounter enters into the creative process of sermon writing. I experience and interpret the world through the lens of the scripture I have read and encountered.
This way of reading scripture is called “lectio divina,” latin for “divine or spiritual or holy reading.” This slow, contemplative way of reading scripture dates back to the 12th century, and once was a traditional and common Christian practice of “praying through scripture.” It is intended to enable communion with God, to increase knowledge and wisdom about God’s living Word. Some have called it, “feasting on the Word.”
This morning, I’m going to try something a little bit different. I’m going to invite you into this practice, reading this morning’s text from Ephesians 4:25-5:2. Rather than share stories from my life that I feel relate to these biblical texts, I’m going to invite you to recall stories from your own lives. Rather than offer my interpretation, my understanding of the meanings and lessons and gifts from these biblical texts, I’m going to invite you to prayerfully receive the meanings and lessons and gifts God is giving.
I will read this passage from Ephesians, the passage you have already heard Jeannine read, four times. The first time, I invite you to receive the word. Listen for the still, small voice of God speaking to you personally. Listen for particular words or phrases that jump out at you.
The second time through, I invite you to listen for a word of wisdom. Meditate on the words or phrases that caught your attention on the first reading. How do these words of scripture speak to your life, right now? How do they interact with your thoughts, your hopes? What word of wisdom might God be offering you through the hearing of these words?
The third time through, I invite you to listen for a word of transformation. How is God blessing you through these words? How is God calling you to confess? How is God inviting you to be touched and changed and transformed and redeemed through this encounter with scripture? Allow yourself to trust in God’s promise of forgiveness. Allow yourself to consider how you might need to do something differently.
And the fourth time through, I invite you to rest in the word. To allow God’s word of love to wash over you. Remember that God is with you in the words and in the silence. What word of love and blessing is God offering you through the hearing of this scripture? In this reading, simply enjoy the experience of being in the presence of God.
Don’t worry. Before I begin each reading, I will repeat those invitations and instructions. If you want to close your eyes, I invite you to do so. Get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as you can on wooden pews…
Let us pray: O God, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God who is our strength, and our redeemer.
Receive the word. Listen for the still, small voice of God speaking to you personally through this scripture. Listen for particular words or phrases that jump out at you.
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
Listen for a word of wisdom. Meditate on the words or phrases that caught your attention on the first reading. How do these words of scripture speak to your life, right now? How do they interact with your thoughts, your hopes? What word of wisdom might God be offering you through the hearing of these words?
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
Listen for a word of transformation. How is God blessing you through these words? How is God calling you to confess? How is God inviting you to be touched and changed and transformed and redeemed through this encounter with scripture? Allow yourself to trust in God’s promise of forgiveness. Allow yourself to consider how you might need to do something differently.
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
Rest in the word. Allow God’s word of love to wash over you. Remember that God is with you in the words and in the silence. What word of love and blessing is God offering you through the hearing of this scripture? In this reading, simply enjoy the experience of being in the presence of God.
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
May it be so. Amen, and amen.
First UMC, Osage
August 9, 2009
Psalm 130
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
There are times when a piece of scripture speaks to me, so clearly, so plainly, so deeply that to expound on it, to pick it apart, to interpret it almost seems sacrilegious.
But. This is the task of preaching, of course, the call to preachers: to preach the good news of Jesus…to share God’s living Word…to interpret the context of the scriptures to the context of a faith community, so that together, we might feast on the living word…One of the questions raised in the Wednesday evening Bible study series we brought to a close this past Wednesday was how exactly I come up with the sermon that I share with you on Sunday.
First, I sit down with the scripture. I try to do this Monday morning, so that I can, as the ancient Christian mystics put it, “chew on” the scripture throughout the week. I select, from the lectionary cycle, the assigned scripture for the week, two pieces of biblical text. Often a psalm and a reading from the gospels. Then, I write out these two passages, longhand, word for word. This slows me down, draws my attention to words or phrases I might otherwise miss. Then I pray. I ask God to speak to me through these words. I ask God to guide my mind and my heart. I return to the words or phrases that jumped out at me. For example, after reading this week’s texts on Monday morning, I found myself repeating: “Out of the depths I cry to you…” “I wait for God, my soul waits…” “putting away all falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another…” “let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up…” “be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love…”
Then I read the passages again, and ask God to show me how these words of scripture speak to my life right now, to the life of this community, right now.
Then I read the passages again, asking God to bless me through the reading of these words. I invite God to touch me and change me through my encounter with this living word. And, I pray that God will help me share this word with all of you, that you might be touched and changed through this encounter.
Then, I read the scripture yet again, allowing it to wash over me. This time, I read it aloud. After focusing on particular words or phrases, I invite the entire text to speak to me, and invite myself to rest in and enjoy the experience of being in the presence of God.
Then, I move through the rest of the week, knowing that the feasting I have done on the word goes with me. Each encounter enters into the creative process of sermon writing. I experience and interpret the world through the lens of the scripture I have read and encountered.
This way of reading scripture is called “lectio divina,” latin for “divine or spiritual or holy reading.” This slow, contemplative way of reading scripture dates back to the 12th century, and once was a traditional and common Christian practice of “praying through scripture.” It is intended to enable communion with God, to increase knowledge and wisdom about God’s living Word. Some have called it, “feasting on the Word.”
This morning, I’m going to try something a little bit different. I’m going to invite you into this practice, reading this morning’s text from Ephesians 4:25-5:2. Rather than share stories from my life that I feel relate to these biblical texts, I’m going to invite you to recall stories from your own lives. Rather than offer my interpretation, my understanding of the meanings and lessons and gifts from these biblical texts, I’m going to invite you to prayerfully receive the meanings and lessons and gifts God is giving.
I will read this passage from Ephesians, the passage you have already heard Jeannine read, four times. The first time, I invite you to receive the word. Listen for the still, small voice of God speaking to you personally. Listen for particular words or phrases that jump out at you.
The second time through, I invite you to listen for a word of wisdom. Meditate on the words or phrases that caught your attention on the first reading. How do these words of scripture speak to your life, right now? How do they interact with your thoughts, your hopes? What word of wisdom might God be offering you through the hearing of these words?
The third time through, I invite you to listen for a word of transformation. How is God blessing you through these words? How is God calling you to confess? How is God inviting you to be touched and changed and transformed and redeemed through this encounter with scripture? Allow yourself to trust in God’s promise of forgiveness. Allow yourself to consider how you might need to do something differently.
And the fourth time through, I invite you to rest in the word. To allow God’s word of love to wash over you. Remember that God is with you in the words and in the silence. What word of love and blessing is God offering you through the hearing of this scripture? In this reading, simply enjoy the experience of being in the presence of God.
Don’t worry. Before I begin each reading, I will repeat those invitations and instructions. If you want to close your eyes, I invite you to do so. Get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as you can on wooden pews…
Let us pray: O God, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God who is our strength, and our redeemer.
Receive the word. Listen for the still, small voice of God speaking to you personally through this scripture. Listen for particular words or phrases that jump out at you.
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
Listen for a word of wisdom. Meditate on the words or phrases that caught your attention on the first reading. How do these words of scripture speak to your life, right now? How do they interact with your thoughts, your hopes? What word of wisdom might God be offering you through the hearing of these words?
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
Listen for a word of transformation. How is God blessing you through these words? How is God calling you to confess? How is God inviting you to be touched and changed and transformed and redeemed through this encounter with scripture? Allow yourself to trust in God’s promise of forgiveness. Allow yourself to consider how you might need to do something differently.
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
Rest in the word. Allow God’s word of love to wash over you. Remember that God is with you in the words and in the silence. What word of love and blessing is God offering you through the hearing of this scripture? In this reading, simply enjoy the experience of being in the presence of God.
So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for evil in your heart. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
May it be so. Amen, and amen.
august 2, 2009
Anna Blaedel
First UMC, Osage
August 2, 2009
Ephesians 4:1-5,11-16
John 6:24-35
“Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” This is the beginning line and the underlying premise in Michael Pollen’s new book, In Defense of Food. And this prescription has something to do with this morning’s lectionary texts. And, of course, what better time to talk about food, real food, in worship, than when we are celebrating communion, preparing for and participating in a feast of food and faith.
Let us pray: O God, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable and pleasing to you, our strength and our redeemer.
Bread. Bread is one of the most important symbols in our Christian scripture. In fact, one can trace the history and meaning of salvation unfolding in the Judeo-Christian tradition simply by noting how this word, bread, is used. Listen to this litany of Bread, beginning with Exodus, moving through to the Gospels…
“I will rain bread from heaven…You shall eat bread and be full…the land will have plenty of bread…I will satisfy the poor with bread…Bread is made for laughter and for wine…Cast thy bread upon the waters…If you are the Son of God command these stones to become bread…We do not live by bread alone…How shall we buy bread to feed these people?...You give them something to eat…On the first day of unleavened bread they went to an upper room…He took bread, broke it, blessed it and said take, eat…Their eyes were opened and he was known to them in the breaking of the bread…How do we show our care for you, Lord? And Jesus answered, Feed my sheep…Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to the 5,000 who were seated…So they gathered up the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, and they filled twelve baskets…I was hungry, and you gave me food…For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world….I am the bead of life…”
The lectionary texts today, from Ephesians and from the gospel according to John, tell us something about returning to the core. To what is really real. To what matters most. To that which can be counted on to sustain and nourish us. Food. And faith community.
The theme running throughout Ephesians is God’s desire for reconciliation. Between all humans, and with all of creation. With God, and with every creeping, crawling, walking, running thing. Not by removing our differences, but by appreciating them, and seeing how, when we put the fragments of our lives together, we can together be made whole. Hear the words of scripture…”I beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called…bearing with one another in love…making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace…there is one body and one Spirit…one God and Creator of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”
Ephesians was written in a context of conflict, fear, and division. As more cultures and communities and colors began coming together under this newborn Christian faith, fear and suspicion ran rampant. These early believers fought bitterly about how to blend their differing beliefs and backgrounds. Which doctrines required adherence? Which practices were crucial to carrying on the faith tradition? Which scriptures should be considered authoritative? Contention and bitterness threatened to divide this early Christian community almost before it could form.
So into this context this text from Ephesians speaks: We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speak the truth in love…we must grow up into the whole body, joined and knit together …building itself up in love…
Go back to what is essential, the scripture says. When you don’t know which doctrines are important, return to what you know is essential. Love. Connection. Food. If you put these at the center of all you do, the rest will work itself out. Be real, and seek out that which is real: Love. Connection. Food. The Spirit of the one God, who is above all and through all and in all. Feed each other, and be fed.
Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love says it this way: “In a world of disorder and disaster and fraud, sometimes only beauty can be trusted…And sometimes the meal is the only currency that is real.”
Knitted together in one universal body, eating is no longer an individual act. Eating bread is a social act, a communal act. The prayer Jesus taught does not say give me this day my daily bread. No. Give us this day our daily bread. Bread is to be shared. Sometimes the meal is the only currency that is real.
In the good news according to John, Jesus says that true faith springs from food. “You are looking for me,” he tells the disciples, “because you ate your fill of the loaves.” The bread of heaven…manna in the wilderness…bread of life. The bread from heaven is both spiritual and material. In John’s gospel, “eternal life” does not speak of immortality or a future life in heaven. It is a metaphor for living now in the unending presence of God. By breaking bread. Sharing a meal. Feeding the hungry. Being fed.
To do this, of course, we need to be connected with each other. How else do we know who is hungry? One out of every 16 verses in the New Testament has to do with the poor. In the gospels, one out of every 10 verses addresses the needs of the poor, and calls the community of faith to care for those in need. To know Jesus, this gospel tells us, is to know the needs of our neighbors. To be nourished and filled by the Holy One is to nourish and feed each other. Bread and community are basic requirements for life and for faith.
Russian philosopher Nikolai Berdaev says, “The question of bread for myself is a material question, but the bread for my neighbor, for everybody, is a spiritual question.”
Whatever our differences, we have hunger in common. And, together, we have food to share.
Eucharist means thanksgiving. Giving thanks for the life giving power of God, broken apart, shared freely.
Communion, with God and with all other humans. The great gift of our faith, giving life to everyone who shares it.
So. I return to Michael Pollen’s prescription for eating. Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants. Pollen traces the ways real food is disappearing. Substance falling prey to superficial and synthetic. Meals are now to be marketed, the faster and cheaper and more convenient, the better, rather than something to be shared, and savored. For the first time in humanity’s millennia of eating, food is becoming consumer and commercial driven, rather than community creating.
Real food is being pushed aside for high fructose, partially hydrogenated, polyunsaturated, monounsaturated, polyphenols, flavonols, carotenoids, and plytochemicals. In much the same ways as real connection, human community, is being pushed aside for Tivo and iPhone apps and Wii and Blackberry and Twitter and tweeting and texting.
Jesus is teaching that food and community are intertwined. One cannot exist without the other. When we push real food and real connection to the side to make way for the synthetic, contrived substitutes, we neglect these two core components of our Christian faith.
What we eat matters. How we eat matters. Who eats, and who we eat with matters.
Back to bread. The simple substance of life. The sacrament of our Christian faith. Bread. Flour, water, yeast, and a pinch of salt. Or, if you visit Lynn and Glenda Peaster over at Kountry Kupboard, and buy a loaf of their fresh baked bread for $3.25: flour, water, milk, brown sugar or honey, yeast, and a pinch of salt. Connection. Real food.
Compare that to loaves manufactured and shipped from far away. I went to the store and picked up a loaf of bread. Bread that costs a little more than the loaf at Kountry Kupboard. Listen to its list of ingredients: enriched unbleached flour, niacin, ferrous sulfate, thiamine hydroclorade, riboflavin, water, high fructose corn syrup, potato flakes, liquid soybean oil, yeast, wheat gluton, salt, dough conditioners, monoglycerides, sodium stearoyl lactylate, ascorbic acid, azodicarbonamide, calcium sulfate, calcium peroxide, enzymes, vinegar, monocalcium phosphate, and calcium propionate. What??? It’s not even clear this is real food.
Disconnection—from the food we eat and the people we share this one earth with—can be destructive, even deadly.
I want to end by sharing an excerpt with you, from a book called Take this Bread, written by Sara Miles. The subtitle is A Radical Conversion, and this book is her story of coming to faith, her conversion into Christianity and Christian community, through communion. In this excerpt, she traces the history of this sacramental practice. As you hear her words, recall the warning from Ephesians: immature people of faith, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. And remember the call of Ephesians: I beg you, lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called—a calling to bear with one another in love, speaking the truth in love, and building the human body up in love.
Sara Miles writes: “Early Christians, worshipping in houses, shared full feasts, following Jesus’ promise that he would be among them when they ate together in his memory. They ate believing that God had given them Christ’s life and that they could spread that life through the world by sharing food with others. Later churches, reducing the feast to bread and wine, wrangled over the right way to understand Jesus’ presence: Was God physically there in the meal or conjured up through the repetition of particular words? And they began to license and control the distribution of the elements central to the faith. Bread then became stylized wafers, [a chalice of] wine became [tiny plastic cups of] grape juice, and church officials—much like the temple authorities Jesus had ignored—imposed rules about who could and could not receive communion. Different denominations made their own restrictions: No communion for Catholics or Orthodox in each other’s churches; no communion for the unbaptized or children below a certain age; no communion, in the words of the Book of Common Prayer, for anyone living “a notoriously evil life…who are a scandal to the other members of the congregation.” Instead of being God’s freely given gift of reconciliation for everyone—the central point of Jesus’ barrier-breaking meals with sinners of all description—communion belonged to the religious authorities.
The entire contradictory package of Christianity was present in the Eucharist. A sign of unconditional acceptance and forgiveness, it was doled out and rationed to insiders; a sign of unity, it divided people; a sign of the most common and ordinary human reality, it was rarified and theorized nearly to death. And yet this meal remains, through all the centuries, more powerful than any attempt to manage it. It reconciles, if only for a minute, all of God’s creation, revealing that, without exception, we are members of one body, God’s body, in endless diversity. The feast shows us how to re-member what had been dis-membered by human attempts to separate and divide, judge and cast out, select or punish. At that Table, sharing food, we are brought into the ongoing work of making creation whole.”
May it be so. Amen, and amen.
First UMC, Osage
August 2, 2009
Ephesians 4:1-5,11-16
John 6:24-35
“Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” This is the beginning line and the underlying premise in Michael Pollen’s new book, In Defense of Food. And this prescription has something to do with this morning’s lectionary texts. And, of course, what better time to talk about food, real food, in worship, than when we are celebrating communion, preparing for and participating in a feast of food and faith.
Let us pray: O God, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable and pleasing to you, our strength and our redeemer.
Bread. Bread is one of the most important symbols in our Christian scripture. In fact, one can trace the history and meaning of salvation unfolding in the Judeo-Christian tradition simply by noting how this word, bread, is used. Listen to this litany of Bread, beginning with Exodus, moving through to the Gospels…
“I will rain bread from heaven…You shall eat bread and be full…the land will have plenty of bread…I will satisfy the poor with bread…Bread is made for laughter and for wine…Cast thy bread upon the waters…If you are the Son of God command these stones to become bread…We do not live by bread alone…How shall we buy bread to feed these people?...You give them something to eat…On the first day of unleavened bread they went to an upper room…He took bread, broke it, blessed it and said take, eat…Their eyes were opened and he was known to them in the breaking of the bread…How do we show our care for you, Lord? And Jesus answered, Feed my sheep…Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to the 5,000 who were seated…So they gathered up the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, and they filled twelve baskets…I was hungry, and you gave me food…For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world….I am the bead of life…”
The lectionary texts today, from Ephesians and from the gospel according to John, tell us something about returning to the core. To what is really real. To what matters most. To that which can be counted on to sustain and nourish us. Food. And faith community.
The theme running throughout Ephesians is God’s desire for reconciliation. Between all humans, and with all of creation. With God, and with every creeping, crawling, walking, running thing. Not by removing our differences, but by appreciating them, and seeing how, when we put the fragments of our lives together, we can together be made whole. Hear the words of scripture…”I beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called…bearing with one another in love…making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace…there is one body and one Spirit…one God and Creator of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”
Ephesians was written in a context of conflict, fear, and division. As more cultures and communities and colors began coming together under this newborn Christian faith, fear and suspicion ran rampant. These early believers fought bitterly about how to blend their differing beliefs and backgrounds. Which doctrines required adherence? Which practices were crucial to carrying on the faith tradition? Which scriptures should be considered authoritative? Contention and bitterness threatened to divide this early Christian community almost before it could form.
So into this context this text from Ephesians speaks: We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speak the truth in love…we must grow up into the whole body, joined and knit together …building itself up in love…
Go back to what is essential, the scripture says. When you don’t know which doctrines are important, return to what you know is essential. Love. Connection. Food. If you put these at the center of all you do, the rest will work itself out. Be real, and seek out that which is real: Love. Connection. Food. The Spirit of the one God, who is above all and through all and in all. Feed each other, and be fed.
Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love says it this way: “In a world of disorder and disaster and fraud, sometimes only beauty can be trusted…And sometimes the meal is the only currency that is real.”
Knitted together in one universal body, eating is no longer an individual act. Eating bread is a social act, a communal act. The prayer Jesus taught does not say give me this day my daily bread. No. Give us this day our daily bread. Bread is to be shared. Sometimes the meal is the only currency that is real.
In the good news according to John, Jesus says that true faith springs from food. “You are looking for me,” he tells the disciples, “because you ate your fill of the loaves.” The bread of heaven…manna in the wilderness…bread of life. The bread from heaven is both spiritual and material. In John’s gospel, “eternal life” does not speak of immortality or a future life in heaven. It is a metaphor for living now in the unending presence of God. By breaking bread. Sharing a meal. Feeding the hungry. Being fed.
To do this, of course, we need to be connected with each other. How else do we know who is hungry? One out of every 16 verses in the New Testament has to do with the poor. In the gospels, one out of every 10 verses addresses the needs of the poor, and calls the community of faith to care for those in need. To know Jesus, this gospel tells us, is to know the needs of our neighbors. To be nourished and filled by the Holy One is to nourish and feed each other. Bread and community are basic requirements for life and for faith.
Russian philosopher Nikolai Berdaev says, “The question of bread for myself is a material question, but the bread for my neighbor, for everybody, is a spiritual question.”
Whatever our differences, we have hunger in common. And, together, we have food to share.
Eucharist means thanksgiving. Giving thanks for the life giving power of God, broken apart, shared freely.
Communion, with God and with all other humans. The great gift of our faith, giving life to everyone who shares it.
So. I return to Michael Pollen’s prescription for eating. Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants. Pollen traces the ways real food is disappearing. Substance falling prey to superficial and synthetic. Meals are now to be marketed, the faster and cheaper and more convenient, the better, rather than something to be shared, and savored. For the first time in humanity’s millennia of eating, food is becoming consumer and commercial driven, rather than community creating.
Real food is being pushed aside for high fructose, partially hydrogenated, polyunsaturated, monounsaturated, polyphenols, flavonols, carotenoids, and plytochemicals. In much the same ways as real connection, human community, is being pushed aside for Tivo and iPhone apps and Wii and Blackberry and Twitter and tweeting and texting.
Jesus is teaching that food and community are intertwined. One cannot exist without the other. When we push real food and real connection to the side to make way for the synthetic, contrived substitutes, we neglect these two core components of our Christian faith.
What we eat matters. How we eat matters. Who eats, and who we eat with matters.
Back to bread. The simple substance of life. The sacrament of our Christian faith. Bread. Flour, water, yeast, and a pinch of salt. Or, if you visit Lynn and Glenda Peaster over at Kountry Kupboard, and buy a loaf of their fresh baked bread for $3.25: flour, water, milk, brown sugar or honey, yeast, and a pinch of salt. Connection. Real food.
Compare that to loaves manufactured and shipped from far away. I went to the store and picked up a loaf of bread. Bread that costs a little more than the loaf at Kountry Kupboard. Listen to its list of ingredients: enriched unbleached flour, niacin, ferrous sulfate, thiamine hydroclorade, riboflavin, water, high fructose corn syrup, potato flakes, liquid soybean oil, yeast, wheat gluton, salt, dough conditioners, monoglycerides, sodium stearoyl lactylate, ascorbic acid, azodicarbonamide, calcium sulfate, calcium peroxide, enzymes, vinegar, monocalcium phosphate, and calcium propionate. What??? It’s not even clear this is real food.
Disconnection—from the food we eat and the people we share this one earth with—can be destructive, even deadly.
I want to end by sharing an excerpt with you, from a book called Take this Bread, written by Sara Miles. The subtitle is A Radical Conversion, and this book is her story of coming to faith, her conversion into Christianity and Christian community, through communion. In this excerpt, she traces the history of this sacramental practice. As you hear her words, recall the warning from Ephesians: immature people of faith, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. And remember the call of Ephesians: I beg you, lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called—a calling to bear with one another in love, speaking the truth in love, and building the human body up in love.
Sara Miles writes: “Early Christians, worshipping in houses, shared full feasts, following Jesus’ promise that he would be among them when they ate together in his memory. They ate believing that God had given them Christ’s life and that they could spread that life through the world by sharing food with others. Later churches, reducing the feast to bread and wine, wrangled over the right way to understand Jesus’ presence: Was God physically there in the meal or conjured up through the repetition of particular words? And they began to license and control the distribution of the elements central to the faith. Bread then became stylized wafers, [a chalice of] wine became [tiny plastic cups of] grape juice, and church officials—much like the temple authorities Jesus had ignored—imposed rules about who could and could not receive communion. Different denominations made their own restrictions: No communion for Catholics or Orthodox in each other’s churches; no communion for the unbaptized or children below a certain age; no communion, in the words of the Book of Common Prayer, for anyone living “a notoriously evil life…who are a scandal to the other members of the congregation.” Instead of being God’s freely given gift of reconciliation for everyone—the central point of Jesus’ barrier-breaking meals with sinners of all description—communion belonged to the religious authorities.
The entire contradictory package of Christianity was present in the Eucharist. A sign of unconditional acceptance and forgiveness, it was doled out and rationed to insiders; a sign of unity, it divided people; a sign of the most common and ordinary human reality, it was rarified and theorized nearly to death. And yet this meal remains, through all the centuries, more powerful than any attempt to manage it. It reconciles, if only for a minute, all of God’s creation, revealing that, without exception, we are members of one body, God’s body, in endless diversity. The feast shows us how to re-member what had been dis-membered by human attempts to separate and divide, judge and cast out, select or punish. At that Table, sharing food, we are brought into the ongoing work of making creation whole.”
May it be so. Amen, and amen.
july 26, 2009
Anna Blaedel
07.26.09
"Rethink Church" Campaign
Reflecting on Annual Conference
What if? What if church was less about Sunday, and more about the other days of the week? What if church wasn’t just a place we go, but something we do? An active verb, instead of a noun? What if church wasn’t just a building, but thousands of doors…so that whoever knocks will be invited to join the journey? What if church was a way to prove what we say we believe, with our lives? What if? To rethink church, and to rethink it with the aim of extending and living radical hospitality—this was the invitation throughout Annual Conference.
When we rethink church, rethink faith and our call to faithfulness, what should be our guide? Hear these words from the prophet Micah 6:8—The Holy One has told you, O mortal, what is good: and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?
Or from the letter to the Hebrew people 13:1-2—Let Mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Living up to our advertising. Open hearts, open minds, open doors. A people and a church living out God’s radical hospitality, and extending radical hospitality to whoever knocks, whoever shows up, whomever God sends…
Cal has already shared glimpses of Annual Conference. If you feel overwhelmed by all the snippets of who, what, when, and why, welcome to the Annual Conference experience! I want to share a few words about the Constitutional Amendment process from Conference. At Annual Conference, we voted on 32 constitutional amendments—proposed amendments to our denomination’s constitution—regarding the structure and mission of the church. 32 amendments, each passed by the General Conference, and now offered to each Annual Conference. To be adopted, each amendment required a collective 2/3 vote from the combined annual conferences. Don’t worry, I am going to speak, here and now, only to one of these amendments.
The first proposed amendment offered a clear opportunity to live into our advertising, as Bishop Trimble invited, and extend radical hospitality, and commit to practicing open hearts, open minds, and open doors. Current language in our constitution, in the paragraph called “Inclusiveness of the Church,” states that persons are eligible to attend worship, participate in programs and receive sacraments and, upon baptism be admitted as members without regard to “race, color, national origin, status, or economic condition.” The amended language would delete this list, and would state that “all persons” are eligible to attend worship, participate in programs and receive sacraments and upon baptism be admitted as members.
The list was created because we recognize that human discrimination and bias and marginalization is real, even within our faith communities. For too many years, the church has told some of God’s children they aren’t enough to be included—aren’t white enough, or American enough, or rich enough. We recognize this undercuts God’s call to radical hospitality, and have started to list the folks who can’t be excluded. Any list, however, is always incomplete. You might have noticed that gender isn’t on that list, nor is age. Nor is physical ability, nor mental ability. Nor sexual orientation, nor gender identity. Which means that, right now, I have the authority as a pastor to say, “I will no longer allow women to join this church.” Or, “no more men are welcomed.” Or, “From now on, only people under the age of 40 are allowed to come to worship,” or “If you’re under 75, you have to find a new church home.” Or, “No one using wheelchairs, walkers, or canes can come through these doors, attend UMW, or join this church.” Or, “If you’re gay, you’re out of luck. We don’t want you here.” This is, I believe, flat wrong. And if we want to convince ourselves no one would ever do this, know that, I am sad to say, it is happening. And, know that I am not the kind of pastor who will utilize this unjust authority offered to me. I believe telling someone, anyone, they are not welcome in God’s house runs against the core message of scripture, the core meaning of God’s living Word, the core call of the gospel, and the core commitments of Christ. Love. Inclusion. Hospitality. Welcome. Compassion. Justice. Grace.
So, the first constitutional amendment would take away that incomplete list of people we CAN’T exclude, and simply say “all means all.” When God says “All are welcome,” God means “All are welcome.” When we as a church say “All are welcome,” we better work as hard as we can to make that true. For what does God require of us but to do justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly? To let mutual love continue, and never neglect an opportunity to extend hospitality. To remember that it is by welcoming and caring for the least of these—even the stranger, undocumented, poor, gay, mentally ill, wheelchair bound—in welcoming and caring for the least of these that we welcome and care for Christ.
I am sorry to say, deeply sorry to say, that the Iowa Annual Conference did not pass this amendment by the 2/3 needed. A simple majority did affirm this Christian commitment to “All means All,” but people’s deep fear over difference and otherness kept us from taking this step toward living into our advertising, kept us from rethinking church, embodying justice, and extending hospitality to all of God’s children. As Bishop Trimble invites: Once we become a Christian, we get to spend the rest of our life trying to be one. Once we make a commitment to the church, we get to spend the rest of our life faithfully rethinking what church can be. Once we receive God’s radical hospitality, we get to spend the rest of our life extending that hospitality to others. What if? What if church is an opportunity to prove what we say we believe with our lives? What are we proving? Are we living up to our own advertising? What if?
07.26.09
"Rethink Church" Campaign
Reflecting on Annual Conference
What if? What if church was less about Sunday, and more about the other days of the week? What if church wasn’t just a place we go, but something we do? An active verb, instead of a noun? What if church wasn’t just a building, but thousands of doors…so that whoever knocks will be invited to join the journey? What if church was a way to prove what we say we believe, with our lives? What if? To rethink church, and to rethink it with the aim of extending and living radical hospitality—this was the invitation throughout Annual Conference.
When we rethink church, rethink faith and our call to faithfulness, what should be our guide? Hear these words from the prophet Micah 6:8—The Holy One has told you, O mortal, what is good: and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?
Or from the letter to the Hebrew people 13:1-2—Let Mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Living up to our advertising. Open hearts, open minds, open doors. A people and a church living out God’s radical hospitality, and extending radical hospitality to whoever knocks, whoever shows up, whomever God sends…
Cal has already shared glimpses of Annual Conference. If you feel overwhelmed by all the snippets of who, what, when, and why, welcome to the Annual Conference experience! I want to share a few words about the Constitutional Amendment process from Conference. At Annual Conference, we voted on 32 constitutional amendments—proposed amendments to our denomination’s constitution—regarding the structure and mission of the church. 32 amendments, each passed by the General Conference, and now offered to each Annual Conference. To be adopted, each amendment required a collective 2/3 vote from the combined annual conferences. Don’t worry, I am going to speak, here and now, only to one of these amendments.
The first proposed amendment offered a clear opportunity to live into our advertising, as Bishop Trimble invited, and extend radical hospitality, and commit to practicing open hearts, open minds, and open doors. Current language in our constitution, in the paragraph called “Inclusiveness of the Church,” states that persons are eligible to attend worship, participate in programs and receive sacraments and, upon baptism be admitted as members without regard to “race, color, national origin, status, or economic condition.” The amended language would delete this list, and would state that “all persons” are eligible to attend worship, participate in programs and receive sacraments and upon baptism be admitted as members.
The list was created because we recognize that human discrimination and bias and marginalization is real, even within our faith communities. For too many years, the church has told some of God’s children they aren’t enough to be included—aren’t white enough, or American enough, or rich enough. We recognize this undercuts God’s call to radical hospitality, and have started to list the folks who can’t be excluded. Any list, however, is always incomplete. You might have noticed that gender isn’t on that list, nor is age. Nor is physical ability, nor mental ability. Nor sexual orientation, nor gender identity. Which means that, right now, I have the authority as a pastor to say, “I will no longer allow women to join this church.” Or, “no more men are welcomed.” Or, “From now on, only people under the age of 40 are allowed to come to worship,” or “If you’re under 75, you have to find a new church home.” Or, “No one using wheelchairs, walkers, or canes can come through these doors, attend UMW, or join this church.” Or, “If you’re gay, you’re out of luck. We don’t want you here.” This is, I believe, flat wrong. And if we want to convince ourselves no one would ever do this, know that, I am sad to say, it is happening. And, know that I am not the kind of pastor who will utilize this unjust authority offered to me. I believe telling someone, anyone, they are not welcome in God’s house runs against the core message of scripture, the core meaning of God’s living Word, the core call of the gospel, and the core commitments of Christ. Love. Inclusion. Hospitality. Welcome. Compassion. Justice. Grace.
So, the first constitutional amendment would take away that incomplete list of people we CAN’T exclude, and simply say “all means all.” When God says “All are welcome,” God means “All are welcome.” When we as a church say “All are welcome,” we better work as hard as we can to make that true. For what does God require of us but to do justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly? To let mutual love continue, and never neglect an opportunity to extend hospitality. To remember that it is by welcoming and caring for the least of these—even the stranger, undocumented, poor, gay, mentally ill, wheelchair bound—in welcoming and caring for the least of these that we welcome and care for Christ.
I am sorry to say, deeply sorry to say, that the Iowa Annual Conference did not pass this amendment by the 2/3 needed. A simple majority did affirm this Christian commitment to “All means All,” but people’s deep fear over difference and otherness kept us from taking this step toward living into our advertising, kept us from rethinking church, embodying justice, and extending hospitality to all of God’s children. As Bishop Trimble invites: Once we become a Christian, we get to spend the rest of our life trying to be one. Once we make a commitment to the church, we get to spend the rest of our life faithfully rethinking what church can be. Once we receive God’s radical hospitality, we get to spend the rest of our life extending that hospitality to others. What if? What if church is an opportunity to prove what we say we believe with our lives? What are we proving? Are we living up to our own advertising? What if?
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