tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84381828809793073352024-03-12T20:41:02.106-07:00The Eyes of a FoolDerek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.comBlogger519125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-80453238992790313132021-04-10T08:16:00.002-07:002021-04-10T08:16:57.258-07:00Nothing Matters and Everything Is Important<p style="text-align: justify;">The podcast that the worship team at Discipleship Ministries produces is called Worship Matters. Yes, I got the idea from a worship planning team from a former church (thanks guys!) But it fits. Because that is what we are about: worship that matters and the matters that constitute worship. I invite anyone interested in listening to check us out. You can find us on Spotify or through our website (<a href="https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/content-library/tags/worship-matters-podcast">https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/content-library/tags/worship-matters-podcast)</a>. We just recorded our 41st episode of the biweekly podcast, so there are plenty to choose from. (And in case you’re wondering “biweekly” can mean both twice a week and every two weeks. Isn’t that confusing? Seems like we should have separate words for those two things. In this case, the Worship Matters podcast case, it means every two weeks. So, 41+ episodes (and I say 41+ because we did a couple “special editions” that weren’t in the episode count) is more than a year and half’s worth, so there’s plenty to listen to.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">These last few episodes have been a mini series titled “In-Person” Worship. So many churches are returning to in-person after a year of virtual worship. Some are already back, others not yet, some are trying it short term, and others do a special in-person worship for Easter or another high holy day before returning to the virtual format. But the vaccine roll out and the changes in attitude toward the pandemic made us feel like it would be good to find out what matters when returning to in-person worship. We’ve had a great time talking with pastors and worship leaders and various folks about the process, both of moving to virtual worship and the shift back to in-person. One of our repeated questions is what did you learn? What did you learn about worship, what did you learn about your church, what did you learn about what really matters in all of this? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">In most cases the answers came easy, even if the learning didn’t. It was a struggle for everyone, but I have been constantly amazed at the imagination and perseverance and buckets of hope that I have seen through this year long ordeal. Yes, there are some churches that won’t make it through, watch the church closure list at Annual Conference this year, it might be tragic. But at the same time there have been churches and communities of faith who have thrived and are looking to the post-pandemic era as a fresh start for a whole new vision of church. One element of this new enthusiasm is that the pandemic has asked us all to reassess what really matters.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">This came to me during our latest podcast, which will be posted Monday, April 12th. We were interviewing the Rev. John Thornburg who works with the Texas Methodist Foundation and calls himself an encourager. I like that, and I think it is an appropriate way to describe not just his ministry through the Foundation, but his personality as well. But it was actually my colleague, Diana Sanchez Bushong who set my head spinning and this blog to begin to take shape. Diana is the Director of Music Ministries and has been helping churches and choirs and musicians of all sorts navigate the covid protocols with as much grace as possible. We were discussing the effect of the lockdown and the move to virtual worship, sharing what we learned, and Diana said “for one thing, we learned we don’t need the building to be the church!”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">We don’t need the building? Now, just wait a darn minute. Those buildings are a source of pride and joy in the life of many a community. They inspire us and give us a sense of awe and wonder. For some they can be intimate and bring us a sense of the closeness of God. A church building can be an object of beauty and a hint of the glory of God. At the same time, especially for those of us who have worked in the church for most of our lives, a church building can be like home, a place of familiarity and comfort and belonging. How can you say we don’t need the building?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Because for a year we didn’t have one and we were still the church. Sure, there are those who don’t feel like it, who say the church has been closed down. Some are even angry about it, seeing it as an intrusive government keeping us from obeying our God to worship. Yet, there was no prohibition on being the church, only gathering in the building. Slowly we learned the building didn’t matter. Oh, it changed things when we no longer had the usual routines and the default position of “going to church.” But it made us rethink church completely. It made us and is still making us decide that when it comes to being the church nothing matters. Nothing external anyway. Nothing tangible. We can be the church, it doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter when. Nothing matters. We don’t need a building.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Ok, so now what? Do we tear them all down? Isn’t all that stuff we said still true? Don’t they inspire and all that stuff? Certainly they can and they do. But so do a lot of things. Part of what happens when we decide that buildings don’t matter, or even that nothing matters is that we find that everything is important. We begin to see that while nothing can keep us from being the church, being the body of Christ at work in the world, there are lots of things that can help us live that life. Nothing matters, but everything is important.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Matthew 6:25-34</b> "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 28 And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you-- you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not worry, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear?' 32 For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 "So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">That’s what I now hear Jesus saying in these verses from the Sermon on the Mount. Nothing matters, but everything is important. That’s how he is able to say to us, don’t worry, but pay attention. This isn’t about wasting time, about being idle. This is about being aware of the Presence in the most surprising of places. We are finding God outside of the church buildings for the first time in a long time. Not in the once-in-a-lifetime trips to the Grand Canyon or the Redwood Forest. But in our own neighborhoods, in the flowers that grow in the fields around us, and the birds that sing so loudly in the trees outside our bedroom windows. Their song is a hymn to the awakened, to the ones who are paying attention. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Then, once we wake up to the presence in the world around us, then we can begin to sense the presence in the people around us. First in those we know and love already, and then, if we try, if we resolve to trust in that presence, in the ones we can learn to love, the ones who are different from us, as different are birds from lilies and yet resonate with the presence of God. We don’t love them because we’re supposed to, we love them because they are important. Because we find our way to worship with them, through them, because of them. We wake up to every grain of sand and hue of skin, and are inspired by the beauty of each and of all. We don’t worry because we trust. We don’t worry because we sense God’s presence everywhere. We don’t worry because we are leaning in so that we might worship, in buildings and in the world. Buildings don’t matter, nothing matters in the way that leads to worry. But everything is important in the way that leads to worship.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Thanks be to God and to the church that has left the building. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Derek</p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-20491135161288378672021-02-08T10:46:00.006-08:002021-02-08T10:46:36.482-08:00A Better Out<p style="text-align: justify;">You might have been under the impression that my full time job is working for the denominational agency Discipleship Ministries. Nothing could be further from the truth. Now that the agency has shifted to a work from home model, my full time job is opening the door for the cats. Oh, sure, I do spend some time writing or zooming for the agency, but seriously, it’s the cats. They are patio obsessed. See, they don’t actually go wild and free, our patio is walled and gated, protected and confined to a degree. But out nonetheless. And the cats love it. And want it. On a regular basis. Let me out they say in their insistent kitty way. So, I do. We do. Again and again we open that door to let them out.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Except, it has been winter. Ish, anyway, this is Nashville after all. So, Tennessee winter. But cold and wet and not at all sunny. And the cats don’t like it. They want out, but they don’t want that out. They want a better out. What is astounding is how their desire for this better out drives them so completely. They’ll pound on the door to be let out and I’ll let them out. Then, seconds later they’ll want back in, blaming me for the condition of the out that they found. But then, a few moments later they’ll be back wanting out again, certain in their little kitty hopes that this time it will be better. Warmer, dryer, sunnier, this time the out will be the out they seek. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">But it isn’t. Again and again, it isn’t. Sometimes, they’ll give up for a while. While they take a nap to restore their hope, or get a snack to build up their strength. Or get a drink from the dog’s water simply because they know it irritates him. But, actually, they won’t be giving up. Just biding their time. Until they come back and want the door opened to their better out. No matter how many times I tell them the out is still cold and wet and gray, they need to see. They need to believe that there is a better out waiting for them this time.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I have to admire their tenacity. And their persistent hope. The vision of this better out shapes their behavior on an irritatingly consistent basis. And I have to confess, when I stop to reflect, I’m humbled by them.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Colossians 1:9-14</b> For this reason, since the day we heard it, we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God's will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, 10 so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God. 11 May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully 12 giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13 He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">This is one of the contested letters of Paul. Many New Testament scholars think that this letter was written after Paul’s death by one of his followers. Moreover, by the time of the writing of this letter Colossae had already been destroyed by an earthquake. The city was never rebuilt after that event, history tells us. So, even if there had been a church there, it was gone now. But the writer would have known that, so why write to the church there? Maybe this writer knew this was like writing scripture. Well, not scripture per se, but a letter that would have a wide ranging impact. Perhaps this letter, like all these letters, weren’t just for one collection of Christians in one place at one time. Maybe it was a letter for many. For those who were shaken, like Colossae had been shaken. Those who were scattered and uncertain, and wondering whether anyone saw them, if there was hope for them in this desperate situation. Maybe the letter was written to those who at the end of their rope, who’ve lost sight of their out.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">You knew I was going there, didn’t you? We look out through the sliding door and the out that we see isn’t the out that we wanted. It isn’t the out that we hoped for. But where is our out? When we read a passage like this one from Colossians, our inclination is to think that it is talking about heaven. Inheritance makes us think of after death. The kingdom of the beloved son is another world and not this one. Even Jesus said my kingdom is not of this world. Right? So, all we can hope for is a change that will come in that great someday in the future. Certainly, the hope of heaven is a powerful one, we ought not diminish that. But there is so much more on offer here.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Colossians was written to convince the readers that they already have received the inheritance. Let that sink in for a moment. This isn’t a promise that we are waiting for, this isn’t something that we can only claim when we leave this world. It is ours now. We are citizens of the kingdom of the beloved son already. Right now. Right here.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But wait. If that is true, then why doesn’t it look like it? Why do we stand at the door and look longingly for an out we don’t see? Because there is work to be done. It’s as simple as that. The writer says that prayers continue and that the hope in those prayers is that you, me, us - we Colossians who have been shaken by who knows what - will know what God’s will is in our lives. Why that prayer, if not to imply that there are things to be done, there is an out to be built. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">It is about the lives we are called to live. Did you read that? It’s not just about the ascension into heaven when that time comes, but how we live each and every day. We are encouraged to bear fruit in every way as we grow in the knowledge of God. As we grow in knowledge? Meaning we don’t wait until we understand all things, we don’t wait until we know every perfect answer, we don’t wait until we have the perfect argument for faith. No, we bear fruit every day as we grow in knowledge. Meaning that sometimes we’ll get it wrong. Sometimes we say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. We can’t avoid that, we are human, we are living in an out that isn’t the one we are being shaped for. But we are working each day, step by step, bit by bit, to transform the world in which we live so that with joy we can go out and bask in the knowledge of the beloved son. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">We’re banging on the doors, wanting to go into that longed for out. And often we are startled by the out we find, and our inclination is to scurry back in to the warmth of homes and safe communities of faith. But if we have the courage of cats, we’ll be back again, looking for the out that is promised. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And now excuse me, someone wants me to open the door again. Because who knows, it might be a better out this time.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Derek</p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-83546559958363322052021-01-06T16:11:00.001-08:002021-01-06T16:11:12.497-08:00Our Lights Are Still Burning<p style="text-align: justify;">Our Christmas lights are still burning tonight. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I know, it seems a strange thing to post tonight. A strange argument to begin on this day, January 6th. When should you take your lights down? Some do it early, some do it later, a few leave them up all year. If there was ever a year to leave them up, it seems that this one might be that year.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">What are the lights for, what do they represent. Lots of things, more things than I really want to go into right now. But one thing on this Epiphany night that they represent is hope. Hope that Christ is with us. Hope that peace is possible. Hope that no matter how dark it might seem, we can cling to the light, lean into the light, let the light shine.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Epiphany is a declaration that Christ is real and is indeed the light of the world. The symbol of the star that guided the magi speaks of something that goes beyond the comfortable boundaries of me and mine. It speaks of a proclamation of justice and of peace, driven by the immense and almost incomprehensible love of God for all people. Epiphany is our guiding star, our reminder that we are people who are know Emmanuel, God with us. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">It is hard, which is a word that barely bears the weight of pain we feel, to lean into the light in moments of brokenness and shame in the precious halls of our democracy. It is hard to keep the light burning when anger and fear seems to hold the day. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">So, how do we respond? What should we do as people of light, as people of hope? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I have two responses building in me at this moment. One is to stand with my Lord and weep over the city.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Luke 19:41-44</b> As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, 42 saying, "If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. 44 They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God."</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Yes, weep for the city, for the nation, for the ideals that are shaken at this moment. Jesus did. I find great comfort in that. Weep but not in despair. We weep because we know there is hope; even in the pain there is hope. We weep because even in this vacuum of leadership we know who leads us. We know how we are to conduct ourselves. We know how to honor our God by loving our neighbor as ourselves. Even when that is hard.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Which is why our lights are still burning on this dark night. We proclaim Emmanuel. We cling to hope. Even today. Especially today. And we stand in that glow and pray for our nation, for the people who are hurting and who are angry and who are so grievously misled. Our lights are still burning.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">May it always be so.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, Derek</p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-81301034925008982952020-12-23T14:57:00.001-08:002020-12-23T14:59:15.040-08:00Soul Music<p style="text-align: justify;">I see that a new version of “Name That Tune” will be broadcast in the new year. You know that game, that show. Someone guesses the name of tune from notes played. Actually, in the versions I have seen before, the guess is more based on the questions that are asked than it is on the notes that are played. “I can name that tune in one note” says the contestant. Because he or she knows the answer from the clues that were given. Not because they can figure out the song from a single note. How many songs start with the same note? Lots, I suspect. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I suppose it might be possible if the song was your song. Recognizing your song by one note, I mean. Your song. Which might mean a song you wrote. Or it might be a song that resonates in your soul. A song that somehow sheds light on life itself; that speaks of deep meanings and truth, the truth by which you live your life. Your song. Your soul music.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Christmas time is a time of music. Especially this year, in this separated, distant season. We need music to speak to us, to speak for us. We’ve gone through our entire Christmas music collection and are still craving more. We replay, but also seek out new music. Or music that isn’t just Christmas music and yet has somehow come to speak of the season. I dug out our cd of the Messiah today. We think of the Messiah as Christmas music, but it is more. I played the Nutcracker Suite from the Tchaikovsky collection yesterday. It was combined with excerpts from the Sleeping Beauty Ballet, but that was ok. I needed to hear it. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">But there are other songs that speak to our soul these days. I found one last year that came back to me again this Advent. It is an unusual choice, I’ll admit. Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls. Never been a big Goo Goo fan, to be honest. But someone directed my attention to this adventish song. And I was captured by it.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>And you asked me what I want this year / And I try to make this kind and clear / Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days / 'Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings / And designer love and empty things / Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days</i> </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-kHleNYIDc">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-kHleNYIDc</a></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Songwriter and lead singer for the Dolls, John Rzeznik sang an acoustic version of this song from his front porch during the first lockdown and it was streamed on Facebook, and he encouraged his fans to stay safe and do what was needed during this time. Even as he and all of us hoped for better days. I don’t know what the numbers were for that stream, but I’m sure it tapped into something deep in all of us. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>So take these words and sing out loud / 'Cause everyone is forgiven now / 'Cause tonight's the night the world begins again</i></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Luke 1:46-55</b> And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord, 47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50 His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51 He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; 53 he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. 54 He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever." </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Mary didn’t write this song, but it was still soul music for her. It came from the depths of her new experience. Mary was be all accounts very young, a teenager or even preteen. And yet there is a depth here. A surprising prophetic depth that can barely be understood, let alone explained.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">A few verses earlier in Luke’s account she is standing with a puzzled look on her face in front of an angel. “How can this be?” she squeaks. It is beyond her, this whole event, this Annunciation, and you can hear the capital A in the description. Certainly Mary could. She knew, somehow, that this was big, bigger than her and for some unexplainable reason including her. “How can this be?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">And now, in the presence of another, a woman too old to be a mother, more suited for the geriatric ward than obstetrics, Mary - too young to be a mother - sings with a wisdom beyond her scant years. Sounding like a prophet of old, she should have slipped in a “thus saith the Lord” somewhere along there, then we wouldn’t have had reason to doubt where she stood. She stands in a line of proclaimers who want us to know that God is about to turn the world upside down. And she does it with a song. A song of praise and hope, a song of confidence and glory, a song of blessing and presence. A song of completion though all is just barely begun.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It is because she now sees differently. The life within her has affected her vision, and she sees the better days that are just beyond our reach, or already here but hidden. And she sees it so clearly will be becomes an is. Notice all the past tense verbs in Mary’s song. “He has shown strength... He has scattered … He has brought down and lifted up … He has filled the hungry, He has send away the full. He has. Not He will, or He might, or maybe someday something like this just might occur. He has, Mary sings. From her soul. The soul now giving life to God, the soul now housing the savior, about to birth the hope of the world. No wonder she sings soul music.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Soul music, according to one definition is gospel music that has gone to town. The styles, the forms, the passion of gospel music burst out of the church and began to address the world, secular themes and issues and became known as soul music. The gospel at loose in the world. What better description for Mary’s song can we find than that? This isn’t simply a song about spiritual themes and churchy attitudes. This isn’t a song about faith development divorced from interaction in a messy and broken world. This is soul music, echoing the cry of a heart longing for redemption and the hope of a faith resting in the promises of God while working through the body of Christ to bring this hope to reality in the world in which we live.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">No doubt there are some music aficionados out there who are thinking to themselves, “I’ve heard some of what is called soul music and it sounds about as far from the gospel as you can get.” And you’d be right. That’s always the danger when you take your faith to work outside of the church, it can get messy, it can get confusing, it can lose its way. It happens at times, that’s part of the risk of living your faith. But it can also get deeper, get stronger, get more real. Listen closely, those themes, that hope is still out there, being sung by those who wouldn’t call themselves churchy types, in fact go out of their way to distance themselves from us. And yet the passions, the hopes still bubble away out there. And maybe our job is to see with new eyes this world in which we live. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>I need some place simple where we could live / And something only you can give / And that's faith and trust and peace while we're alive / And the one poor child who saved this world / And there's ten million more who probably could / If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them</i></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Said a prayer with our hands and our pockets as well as our words. Sang our songs, our soul music with motions, actions; not just emphasizing but enacting the better days we know are right here, right around the corner. Soul Music. Christmas is the perfect time for soul music. No, better than that, Christmas demands soul music. Demands that we be in touch with our souls, the deepest part of ourselves, the connective tissue of all our relationships, and most of all, the hope. No, the Hope, that we can begin to see better days.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">From our house to all of yours, from our corner of the social isolation to yours, from our souls to yours, La Donna and I wish you the merriest of Christmases, and the better days of the New Year.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, Derek</p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-10036048804529555452020-12-13T14:27:00.011-08:002020-12-13T14:32:16.348-08:00Finding Christmas<p style="text-align: justify;"><i> “Where are you Christmas / Why can't I find you / Why have you gone away / Where is the laughter / You used to bring me / Why can't I hear music play / My world is changing / I'm rearranging / Does that mean Christmas changes too”</i></p><div style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where Are You Christmas</span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">by James Horner, Mariah Carey, Wilbur Jennings</span></span></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Cindy-Lou Who, with her big sad eyes and her elfin face, looks up at the Grinch packing up Christmas in her house and says “Santy Claus, why? Why are you taking our Christmas tree? Why?” </p><p style="text-align: justify;">It feels as though someone has come into our homes and stolen away Christmas. We heard from our daughter and her boy friend in Boston that the month-long trip to parents in North Carolina and Nashville was off. They didn’t want to take the risk of traveling and gathering with people with the surge of cases and infections. Our son in Indianapolis told us that if he came to visit us for Christmas he would then be required to quarantine himself from his workplace and would miss out on over two more weeks of pay. We said it made sense not to come. So, just like Thanksgiving, La Donna and I will be here with an aging dog and grumpy and attention deficit cats for Christmas. All we want is for them to come home for Christmas. Or to go home, or open the home. To be at home. We seem lost without a place to gather and to celebrate and to be. To just be. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Blame the virus, blame the government, blame the fears or the unwillingness of people obsessed with “rights” and unwilling to take precautions, blame a fantasy green furred intruder and his dog with a deer antler tied to his head. Blame whoever you want, but Christmas is lost and it just won’t be the same. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Luke 1:26-38</b> In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." 34 Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" 35 The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God." 38 Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Luke reminds us that God has different ideas about home than the rest of us do. Solomon’s temple was quite a structure, and God apparently liked it well enough. Well enough to visit, but it was never really God’s home, or so it seems. For one thing it was always called Solomon’s temple. God says to David “Your son will build my home” when he said in the Hebrew scripture text for the fourth Sunday of Advent,. We all assumed God meant Solomon, the son who built the temple.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But, God had a different son in mind. God was thinking of the one that Gabriel would call, “the Son of the Most High,” the one that would “reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there would be no end.” That’s the son who would build God’s home. No one quite got that. David didn’t really understand what God meant. Solomon didn’t really understand either, but he got the construction crew out anyway. No one knew what God really meant— no one, but Mary.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But then the indications are that Mary didn’t really understand either. How could she? Just imagine, this young, unmarried, soon-to-be married girl, gets a message from God. And the message is, God’s coming home. Taking up residence. In her. Excuse me?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">This nothing special, backwoods, teenager was going be God’s home for a few months. And talk about your troubling house guests! Feet on the furniture are nothing compared to this. Those who are mothers, who have experienced the joy of pregnancy and birth know better than the rest of us the hard realities of this little event. Here we are a few days before Christmas talking about Mary finding out she’s going to be pregnant, and then Wednesday night, she gives birth. Pretty amazing, really. But not real. She carried this load just like everyone else; she hurt and she sweated and she paced and she groaned and she struggled and she wondered and she worried and she bled and she gave birth in a barn because no one was willing to give her a bed. “Greetings favored one, the Lord is with you.” The Lord has a different idea of favoritism than we do. The Lord has a different idea of blessing than we do. The Lord has a different idea of home than we do.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Come home,” says the Lord to us at Christmas time. “Come home.” David wanted to build a house for God on the tallest hill in Jerusalem, where God could be removed and distant and overlook all the people who would have to go out of their way to give obedience to God. But God wanted to build his home a little closer to the deep realities of living in this world so that we would be surprised by God where we live. God wanted to build his home where we sweat and labor, where we work and play, where we laugh and cry, where our hearts are lifted up and often broken and sometimes healed.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">David wanted God’s home on a mountain, but God wanted his home in the womb of a virgin, in the feed box behind an inn in the little town of Bethlehem. God wanted his home in the backwoods region of Galilee, on the roads of the countryside, in the grassy place where five thousand sat and ate their fill. God wanted his home in the birthing units and wedding celebrations and the dinner parties. God wanted his home in the tear-filled bedrooms and sick beds and the graveyards of his children. God wanted his home in the court rooms and prison cells and then on the streets of sorrow of Jerusalem and the dark hill called Calvary.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The point is you can’t lose Christmas. It comes to you. Wherever you are. Christmas isn’t found in the traditions and the practices, in the customs and the patterns of our celebrations. But neither is it found in the sharing and the connections of family and friends who gather, who come home for the season or the celebration. It is something deeper, something inside. It is a part of you. Born in you and from you. And yes, it does find a more joyful expression when we connect with others, with loved ones and strangers alike. But that joy transcends distance, transcends disappointment, overcomes fear and hesitation. You can’t lose Christmas.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">God wants his home in your home, in the living rooms and kitchens and playrooms and bedrooms of your life. God calls to us at Christmas and says, “Greetings, favored ones! I’m coming home, coming home for Christmas. And like any baby born in our midst, he says, “I won’t take up much room, just all that you have. Is there room for me? I’m coming home.” And off to the side, almost out of our vision, an angel waits for our answer.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, Derek</p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-68103077309764684752020-11-25T13:16:00.009-08:002020-11-25T13:16:38.647-08:00The Dog with a Clock in His Head<p style="text-align: justify;"> There’s been an odd things going on in our house for the past few months. OK, I realize that was one of those, what do you call them, duh kind of statements. I mean who hasn’t been having an odd thing going on in their houses these past few months? It’s a pandemic for Pete’s sake! Odd things are <i>de rigeur</i>. And who is Pete anyway? And what does <i>de rigeur</i> mean, for Pete’s sa... </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Pete, say some of the researchers of language and idioms (no, not idiots, that’s a different field of inquiry all together), might actually have referred to St. Peter the sort of head of the merry band of apostles. It was another attempt to be able to swear without actually “taking the Lord’s name in vain,” because someone frowned on that. (See Exodus 20 for the full frowning list.) So, they invented words that were close, “gosh darn” for example. Well Pete was close to Christ, so we started saying for Pete’s sake. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>De rigeur</i> is French that leaked over into English and it means “required by etiquette or current fashion.” Which means, by the way, that political correctness isn’t new. And the French started it. So there.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Where was I? Oh, yes, the odd thing. In addition to all the pandemically inspired odd things happening in our house and yours, we have a different odd thing. Or maybe different, I don’t know. Maybe this thing is happening everywhere. Maybe you have this thing too, and will nod along knowingly as I tell you of this odd thing. Which means it isn’t an odd thing after all. I mean, if it is happening to you, and everyone else, it can’t be odd, can it? Can an odd thing be universally odd? But then, since it involves our dog, Nick, the three legged rescue terrier mix of doubtful parentage, then perhaps it is still odd.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">And what is this odd thing you ask, hoping that I’ll get to the point however odd it might be? Well, the odd thing is Nick seems to know what time it is. Even when we forget. Although, to be honest, daylight savings time threw him off a bit. Not only does he know what time it is, he knows what we should be doing at what time. Which, frankly is how we became aware that he knew what time it was. He isn’t able to say to us, hey did you realize it is 4:45 in the afternoon? No, he doesn’t give us time checks, nor does he bark out the number of the hour on the hour. That’s not happening. Though, I confess, that <b>would</b> be odd.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">No, here’s what happens. He gets restless, he whines and fusses and is unable to settle. That’s not new, he’s done that before. Like when he has to go out, or needs to chase a squirrel or bark at a cat. Except, we kept discovering that those weren’t the things he was upset about. He would fuss, but wouldn’t go out when we got his leash. Or run to the window and bark. He was obviously trying to get us to do something, but we sometimes has trouble figuring out what that something was.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">After a while it dawned on us that he had figured out our schedule. There were certain things that happened at certain times. We got up at this time, we did his morning walk, his morning pill (he has arthritis in his hip, maybe both, can’t really tell since he only has one back leg), then we did breakfast, and went to work. I had the long commute upstairs to my home office, La Donna sat at her desk in the family room. Then we had coffee break, later was lunch, then afternoon tea, then end of work day and then dinner and then evening pill and then reading or TV in our chairs. It was a routine. He figured it out. And if we got off track, or forgot something, or did something out of order, or took too long to do something, he fussed. If La Donna went to her computer in the evening instead of her easy chair, he fussed. If we forgot his pill, or if daylight savings time made him think we forgot his evening pill, he fussed. It was weird. He’s not a herd dog, but it is like he was trying to keep our lives on track. Follow the schedule people! For heaven’s sake! Or Pete’s. Or Nick’s. He’s doing his best to make sure we have a routine. And heaven forfend if we skip a meal or worse yet, eat in front of the TV. Unless it’s popcorn, because he loves popcorn. And how in the world he knows it’s Sunday and should be time for popcorn, I have no earthly idea. Except maybe virtual church in the morning followed by hours of football in the afternoon, might be a clue.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">We sometimes complain about a routine. And yet all of us are a bit lost without something consistent in our lives. We know who we are by what we do, at least in part. Sure, it is bigger than that. We are bigger than that. There is something of essence about us, we are who we are because of our creation, because God made us and claimed us. No question. Yet, our living comes alive in our doing, in our routines. The patterns we create in our lives give texture and rhythm to who we are and how we encounter the world. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Ritual is the theological word for routine. We do these things in this way, again and again, and we encounter God in our ritual. We become aware of God’s presence as we commune and kneel and pray or sing and gather. We fill up our lives with doing of holy things. And a sacramental approach to life says that anything can be a holy thing if we’re paying attention. Any action, or routine, can be full of God’s presence, with the breath of the Spirit if we stay in tune with that, if we set our minds on the things above. And the things above doesn’t mean we think of heaven up above, but of the things that lift us up rather than pull us down. We think of higher things, of service, or caring, of love. And when we ask how do my routines speak of love or any of these things, that’s how we grow in our faith. That is how we make the most of the time.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Colossians 4:2-6</b> Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. 3 At the same time pray for us as well that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison, 4 so that I may reveal it clearly, as I should. 5 Conduct yourselves wisely toward outsiders, making the most of the time. 6 Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer everyone.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Another of Paul’s lists. A list is another routine, of a sort. It is a way of shaping our lives as though who we are and what we do matters. This is, Paul says, making the most of the time. One of the hardships of the pandemic is that our routines are shattered. And some might even lose their way in the midst of it, or lose themselves in the process. Finding ways to make the most of the time is one of the techniques we have of keeping ourselves sane during the pandemic. But maybe there is more to it than our sanity, as important as that is. Maybe there is something of faith there. Maybe even the simple things of our daily existence, our daily routines can be alive with the Spirit of the living Christ. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Which is how we get to gratitude. This is Thanksgiving week here in the US. Many are missing the routines and rituals of that festive day, many are facing being alone, families scattered and apart. A zoom chat Thanksgiving doesn’t sound all that great. But then staying healthy does. Gratitude can still be the core of our living in this un-routine holiday. If we live alive to the moment, if we remember who we are and whose we are, then gratitude flows like a stream through all our routines. And turns routines into rituals of grace. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Nick is trying his best to keep us on track with our lives. He sometimes strains with the effort and we haven’t given him the respect that is due his most difficult task. But in this strange time we are learning even more to be thankful. For the family that we are, human and furry both. For grown up kids making their way despite setbacks and roadblocks. For the beauty of a new place and work that sustains us both. For life and health and hope and for joy. And for friends near and far. All of whom we wish the happiest of Thanksgivings and the blessedness of routine. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, Derek </p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-8724897639694683072020-11-01T16:06:00.010-08:002020-11-01T16:06:56.413-08:00The Calm<p style="text-align: justify;">Do you hear that? Behind the silence, a hum, perhaps. Maybe a vibration, an electricity that prickles the skin, raises the hairs on your arm. I remember sitting in the big old parsonage in Larwill, Indiana, just off the highway, listening to the radio tell us about a tornado sighting not far from town. And we waited. It looked green outside, a strange cast to the coming wind. We didn’t speak, didn’t breathe hardly. Just waited, afraid of the destruction to come. But not able to do anything, just wait.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The calm before the storm. That’s what it feels like this weekend. Let’s be honest, some of us are afraid. A recent poll said a significant number of people are worried about violence after the election. Those who aren’t afraid of violence are probably afraid of the outcome. It seems like so much is on the line. The storm that is coming might sweep us all away.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Too much? Overreaction? Maybe. But overreaction seems to be the theme of year. The political ads tell us if this party wins there will be terror in the streets. If the other party wins there will be the end of truth and the collapse of democracy. No wonder we are scared. No wonder we wait uneasily in our socially distant houses. No wonder we feel abandoned by hope. On the brink of a national election we should feel united, the betterment of the country in mind. Instead we feel broken and alone.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Waiting alone is the worst kind of waiting. We may think that’s what we want, so our fears don’t show. But the fear multiplies when we’re alone. Lying awake in our bed, we stare at the digital clock counting down our uncertainties late into the night. We are hardest on ourselves, particularly when we are alone. We reexamine every decision, every choice. We question every thought or inclination. We doubt ourselves, and become suspicious of everyone else. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">This is why it is the modus operandi of those who seek to dominate us try to separate us from one another, to create an us and them; real Americans and our enemies. It’s not a matter of disagreement, of differences of opinion, it is fear and suspicion, division and distrust. The more we are alone, the more we are broken into pieces. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">But that aloneness itself is a lie. Oh, it is often our human experience. We feel alone, abandoned, separate. But we aren’t. Sometimes our experience doesn’t reflect reality. There is a deeper truth that we forget. Especially in times of high stress, or threatening times. That deeper truth is that we are bound together by the source of being.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Isaiah 43:1-7</b> But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. 2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. 3 For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you. 4 Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life. 5 Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; 6 I will say to the north, "Give them up," and to the south, "Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth - 7 everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made."</p><p style="text-align: justify;">There are a bunch of little words that we have to note in this text. Oddly, this time it is the little words that carry the weight of meaning. The first little word to note is “when.” Read verse two again. There are two descriptions of the reality in which we are living. Or so it seems to me. Passing through waters and going through fire. Can you find a better description of 2020? Whether you talk about the pandemic or the racial uprising or the never-ending hurricane season, we’re either passing through deep waters or going through a fire. We are under threat. But notice how the prophet introduces these circumstances. When you pass through the waters, when you walk through fire. When. Not if. Or not “should you be so unfortunate as to find yourself in these difficult situations.” No, he very boldly, and unfortunately truthfully says when you walk through fire. When. It’s going to happen. We might hope we can live free of difficult times, but deep down we know that the rain falls on the just and the unjust. We know that stuff happens, to any of us, to all of us, stuff happens. When.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The second little word makes a world of difference in our difficult circumstances. And that word is “with.” When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and they will not overwhelm you. How do we know they won’t overwhelm us? Because it sometimes feels like I’m about to be overwhelmed, I don’t know about you. How are we to hear this promise? Through that little word “with.” We won’t be overwhelmed because we aren’t alone. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">How does that work, exactly? If we could claim this truth, God is with us - we are not alone, then we will find resources that just might surprise us. When we realize that we are not alone, then we look for those who will walk beside us and share our hope and strength and work to change the circumstances that are threatening to overwhelm us. When we claim the presence of God as a given, then we shape our responses around that peace and that love that makes our world a kin-dom like place to live. This is why John Wesley’s supposed dying words were “Best of all, God is with us.” </p><p style="text-align: justify;">But you might say, presence doesn’t change anything. On one level that is true. Nothing is changed in terms of the circumstance. But everything has changed in terms of the resources available to respond to the circumstances. When we embrace that presence, when we acknowledge that God is with us because God loves us (another small word in the text above), then our sense of self and our ability to react to the waters that threaten us, to find resources around us and within us expands into the wideness of God’s mercy. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The other truth to read in this passage is the somewhat obscure ending. There is a lot we don’t know about the history of this text. But what is clear is that God promises to gather us together. God says you work better as a community, as a nation unified. So, God says, I will gather you from the separation in which you have found yourselves. You may seem so far apart that you are no longer one people. But God can bring us together, God can overcome that distance. If we are willing to be brought together. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">That’s the key. God doesn’t overwhelm our will. If we choose to be separate, if we choose to be alone, we can be. But that is not what God wants for us, or from us. And it begins with the realization that we are not alone. It’s a counter-cultural message to be sure. In our society we value the rugged individual who fights alone against all odds. That makes a cool movie. But it isn’t the way to live in the real world. We’re better, no, it’s more than that, we’re made to be together. To be one. That was Jesus’s prayer for us. That we would be one. One in the way that Jesus is one with God. Intimate, supportive, sacrificial, love alive in our oneness. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The storm will come. We might as well admit it. But it doesn’t have to overwhelm us. If we simply remember that we are not alone. We can then rise to the hope that brings us. Thanks be to God.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Derek</p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-77684359737620974782020-10-27T15:17:00.003-07:002020-10-29T14:52:13.483-07:00Tiger Truth<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W5fRMuZH00w/X5icIaC088I/AAAAAAAAAPk/t9I_aU_6HXAN5UyL8bJVmjtNjlVeE7h3QCLcBGAsYHQ/s812/8fdb135ce3763b2a6c3fd0e0519fc99f.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="640" height="407" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W5fRMuZH00w/X5icIaC088I/AAAAAAAAAPk/t9I_aU_6HXAN5UyL8bJVmjtNjlVeE7h3QCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h407/8fdb135ce3763b2a6c3fd0e0519fc99f.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I ran across this Calvin and Hobbes strip recently. Calvin and Hobbes is probably my all time favorite comic strip in the newspapers, it ran from 1985 to 1995. And then it just stopped. Artist Bill Watterson announced he had done all he wanted to do with the strip and it simply ended. To this date Watterson refused to merchandise his creation, turning away millions if not billions of dollars to keep Calvin and Hobbes and their world pure. I do admire Watterson’s conviction, but I miss my friends. Calvin and his stuffed tiger, Hobbes who is only real to him. And of course to us. Hobbes was often the voice of reason, the speaker of wisdom. Whereas Calvin is the unrestrained imagination, dreaming universes only tangentially related to the world in which he reluctantly dwells.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Forgive all the reminiscence, and if you want to read more, I can loan you all the collected works which are sitting on my bookshelves here at home. I went through all of that so I could give a little context for the strip I want to talk about. The one I hope you can see right here. I pray there aren’t copyright issues, but I wanted to share it with you. It is typical of many strips with just the two main characters. Calvin says something outrageous or imaginative, and Hobbes adds some interpretive wisdom. Or maybe a little bit of reality. Or truth.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Calvin is here questioning the foundation of reality. Am I real or some sort of figment? And he’s now so troubled by the question that he’s afraid to move. Night has fallen and he still stands at the puddle afraid to challenge the truth that he is real. Who am I? That’s a question we all ask from time to time. Sometimes in the darkness of the night when all the distractions have faded away and there is nothing but you and your thoughts. When “I am what I do” is challenged by the fact that you aren’t doing anything at the moment. Or when you’ve changed what it is that you have done most of your working life. I was a preacher and now I don’t preach. Who am I? Am I real anymore? People ask that when they retire. Or when they lose their jobs. Or when a relationship changes. For so long I belonged to her or to him and now … what? To whom do I belong? Am I real any more?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It’s a questioning time. Elections and pandemics, civil unrest and questions of what is real and true and right seem to come at us from all sides these days. We are standing at the puddle afraid to move away for fear we won’t exist anymore. The tigers of the night come along with a word of truth and we no longer know who we are. Some argue that the popularity of the current president is due to the shakiness of a people who no longer know who they are, or who have been through so much change that they’ve lost their grip on their own reality. Let’s remember a time when things were better, when things were great and go back there. Let’s stand at our puddle even as the darkness falls and look at the self we know and resist change, resist growth. Can we cling tightly enough to a self image with which we are familiar that it won’t vanish when we wander away? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Deep questions, I know. It’s a deep question time. A self and national reflection time. We stare at the image in the puddle and wonder if what we see is the truth about who and what we are. Is this, however we define the this that surrounds us, that overwhelms us, is this truth? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">We aren’t the first to ask these questions, you know. The whole field of philosophy is built on these questions. But there is one that comes to my mind when I see Calvin’s worried eyes staring into the puddle in the dark. Pilate. The politician’s politician. He made a career of poking people in the snoot. Flexing his power over temple and ritual. Taunting the religious leaders, sneering at the masses gathering for worship. Oh, sure, he brought peace. Or rather he brought the Pax Romana. The peace of Rome. Which was essentially a cold war of oppression, the iron hand without a velvet glove. The peace of knowing your place, of following the law and keeping the order. He knew who and what he was. A strong man in backwater nation, lining the roadways with the dead and the dying because that’s what leaders do. He knew who he was. Except for a moment. When the mask of confidence slipped and the image in the puddle seemed ready to wander off. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>John 18:33-38a </b>Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" 34 Jesus answered, "Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?" 35 Pilate replied, "I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?" 36 Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here." 37 Pilate asked him, "So you are a king?" Jesus answered, "You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice." 38 Pilate asked him, "What is truth?" </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Once more I wish for an audio version of the Bible story. How did he ask that question? Was it with bored incomprehension that didn’t have time for such high sounding diatribes? With sneering disgust that anyone could see what he had seen in his life and still believe there was such a thing as truth in this messy world of itches and scratches and getting by on greased palms and secret payoffs? Or, and I really wonder, is it possible that in this moment, faced with this prisoner, beaten and bruised before him barely able to make himself understood through the swollen lips and black eyes, that Pilate held his breath allowing himself to hope that maybe there was an answer to his question and this … man … might give it to him? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The last verse goes on with Pilate going to the Jewish leaders standing outside so as not to defile themselves by entering the house of a Gentile and saying, “I find no case against him.” Did he leave because he couldn’t stand to hear the answer to his question, or because there wasn’t one coming? Did his hope give out and the mask get replaced and so he shrugged his shoulders and went out to finish the farce he was a part of? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Except there was an answer, had he stayed a moment longer gazing into the puddle he stood beside. Had he looked at his image and seen that he wasn’t alone. There was that man. Blood dripping on the clean mansion floor, eyes all but hidden behind the swollen and darkened flesh, but staring nonetheless into the core of his being. The truth staring him in the face. The truth, bearing Pilate’s wounds, cradling Pilate’s questions and doubts and fears. The truth offering him hope. Like a tiger ready to spring, threatening his security of power and position and self. But a truth that would set him free. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Who am I? First and foremost I am His. And because I am His, I am more me than I could be on my own. I can wander from the puddle trusting that even if I disappear I will continue in His grace, in His love, in His peace. I am real. You are too. Thanks be to God.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Derek</p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-61456151780593850842020-09-20T19:13:00.000-07:002020-09-20T19:13:22.873-07:00Never Forget<p style="text-align: justify;">Maddie made zucchini bread. I got a picture of it. I’m too far away for a sample, unfortunately. She sends regular pictures of the things she makes, the meals and delicacies she prepares. She is a victim of Covid, not health-wise of course. But she lost her job a few months ago. She’s been making her way nannying and babysitting. And cooking. It’s always been a dream of hers. At one time she wanted to open a cupcake shop. Then it was work in a fancy restaurant. She likes making things, and feeding people. All the tenants in her apartment building are benefiting from the time she has free now and the passion that drives her. She’s doing ok, surviving. Or so she tells me. I’m worried, it’s what dads do, you know. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Rhys is moving this weekend. Leaving behind the apartment he’s been in for a year. It was a dump, to be honest, I’m glad he’s leaving it. But it was what he could afford. He found another one, for even less. He tells me it is better. I haven’t seen it, but I hope he’s right. He lost one of his jobs when things shut down. But he got it back, reduced hours though. He’s cobbled together enough to get by, part time jobs here and there. He’s still looking for a full time job, based on the degree that he got for himself, the passion he has within him. But no one is hiring entry level people in his field. He was here for Labor Day weekend. I asked if he was making it. He said he’s trying to do it on his own. Doesn’t want to rely on hand outs from parents. I am proud of him for that. But I worry. It’s what dads do.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I’ll confess, I’ve been thinking - we’ve been thinking how to rearrange our townhouse to make room for them both if they need to come. If we need to gather them up and protect them from a world that has gotten harsh. From the struggles of making your way through. Neither have asked for that. They are determined and resilient. And I couldn’t be more proud of them both. But I want them to know there is a safety net. There is a place of retreat, should they need it. Should the journey become too much for them to continue on their own. Should the edifice of their hopes and dreams come crashing down on them. I want them to remember home.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It was September 11th a week ago. That date on the calendar that we hardly know what to do with. Is it a commemoration? A national lament? A call to arms? I saw many of my friends and acquaintances posting on 9/11, various images and remembrances. And often they were headed with the phrase “Never Forget.” It had historical precedent, echoes throughout the story of human struggle and suffering. “Remember Pearl Harbor”, “Remember the Alamo”, remember those who fought, those who died, remember, never forget. An appropriate response to a difficult day.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But I can’t help but ask: What aren’t we supposed to forget? What should we remember? None of the posters that I could find said what we shouldn’t forget. They just left it hanging there. “Never forget!” As if it was self-evident. As if it was obvious to everyone, anyone who thought about it. Except, these days, I’m not so sure. We think so differently. That’s part of our problem. We who claim to be a united nation, even a “Christian” nation, some say. But we think so differently. It’s at the heart of our divisions. We’re at the breaking point of thinking differently. It’s so common to see people say, “I don’t understand how they can support him!” or “I don’t know why they don’t trust our leader.” “It just doesn’t make sense to me!” </p><p style="text-align: justify;">So, give the gap in thinking, I can’t help but wonder what it is we’re supposed to never forget. I ask because there are some ways of remembering that can heal us, and some that only cause us to irritate the wounds. Are we to remember, for example that we are not invulnerable? If so, does that then lead us to a healthy humility or to live and act in fear? Are we to remember that there are enemies in the world? Does this, then, lead us to a careful vigilance or a scapegoating that looks for excuses and incites race baiting? Should we never forget this day as the worst that could happen in our nation or as an example of how even in the midst of tragedy we can rise up to help and to heal and to rebuild? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">We should never forget the lives lost, of course. Remember with sadness and support for families. But also with a resolve to improve safety features in our magnificent buildings and to properly equip our first responders. Yes, we should never forget. But what we remember and how we remember give shape to the kind of people we are.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Paul talks to us about remembering. Well, maybe it is a stretch, but I still think there is something to learn from his example. You’ve seen these verses before, I’m sure. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Philippians 1:3-6</b> RSV I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, 4 always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, 5 thankful for your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. 6 And I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I chose the older translation, because it is the one that I remember. “All my remembrance.” Many commentators point out that Paul has a special relationship with the church in Philippi. These folks are in his heart in a special way. So of course he remembers them fondly. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t things to correct, or things to worry about. Paul never misses an opportunity to call all his readers to a closer walk with their Lord. Yet he does this in confidence and gratitude. And a commitment to walk with them every step of the way.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I am sure, he writes, that you are on the way. That there are better days to come. That you will not be alone as you move forward into the future that God has in store for you. Confidence. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I thank God for all my remembrance of you. Making my prayer with joy. Gratitude. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And thankful for the partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. Does that mean he is giving up on them now? Or leaving them to their own devices? No, not all. It just means he has been a part of them from the beginning. Even though he hasn’t been there for a while, he is still a part of them. Even now, while he is in prison somewhere. He is in them and they are in him. They motivate his writing, his proclaiming, even as he seeks to motivate them with his words and he hopes his presence some day. A commitment to keep walking with them every step of the way.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Yes, I worry about my kids. And I worry about my nation, in times of crisis and of unrest. But I have confidence in the presence of God and am grateful for all that we have shared to this day. And will commit to being with them, helping them, guiding them every step along the way. Loving them in the best way I can.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I thank God for my remembrance of you. I’ll never forget.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Shalom,</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Derek </p>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-65699545820721012562020-08-23T18:23:00.001-07:002020-08-23T18:23:23.550-07:00Blessed<p style="text-align: justify;"> “Bless your heart.” That’s a thing we say down here in the south. It sounds nice, but it isn’t really. It’s actually a way of saying, what a doofus, or something like that. “I was late because I couldn’t find my shoes after months of a pandemic.” “Bless your heart.” Of course you’ve got to do it with that dripping with sweetness southern accent for the full effect. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I’ve been thinking about blessedness lately. Counting blessings, being blessed, all that sort of thing. I was inspired to this line of thought by a Facebook live video I saw of Len Sweet, theologian and academic, who set out to present 12 unexpected blessings for the church from the pandemic. I only got the last 4 or so before I figure out what he was doing. I know, I could have gone back and watched the whole thing once it was posted, but I didn’t. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I didn’t because I didn’t want to just take his ideas. I wanted to come up with my own. Or our own. Because I suggested to the worship team at Discipleship Ministries that we do this for our next podcast. We spend a lot of time talking about what we’ve lost, or what we have to do to overcome the situation. We spend a lot of time complaining, or bemoaning our lot. But what if we decided to ask where is the blessing in all of this? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I don’t mean we should put on our rose colored glasses and declare that all is well. I know that this is a struggle, I know that there are those who are suffering, those who are grieving, those who are wondering how they will make it through. I don’t diminish that in any way. But if Paul is right when he says that all things work together for good for those who love God, then at least a part of what he means is that even in the midst of a terrible situation we can find something that works for good, something for which we can call ourselves blessed.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Let’s think about that word for a moment. What does it mean to be blessed? Some might say that it means we’ve got all we need, or maybe more than we need. We’ve been blessed with stuff. That’s a mindset in a part of the Christian faith that we call the prosperity gospel. To be blessed is to have things materially. Pray for God’s blessing is to pray for income, for reward, for stuff. There are perhaps a few verses here and there throughout the bible that could be twisted around to that sort of interpretation. But it certainly isn’t a dominant thread. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">On the other hand there are those who want to talk about blessedness as an attained state. It is something you earn, by doing things the right way, or with the proper rituals or incantations. I know that when you say it that way, of course we would say no. No one believes that. Except, in a way we do. That somehow we’ve got to deserve it, to be worthy of it. Take a look at this from Deuteronomy.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Deuteronomy 28:1-6</b> If you will only obey the LORD your God, by diligently observing all his commandments that I am commanding you today, the LORD your God will set you high above all the nations of the earth; 2 all these blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the LORD your God: 3 Blessed shall you be in the city, and blessed shall you be in the field. 4 Blessed shall be the fruit of your womb, the fruit of your ground, and the fruit of your livestock, both the increase of your cattle and the issue of your flock. 5 Blessed shall be your basket and your kneading bowl. 6 Blessed shall you be when you come in, and blessed shall you be when you go out.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">How do you read that? If you will only, it says, do this, go here, say that. Do these things that then you will be blessed. It’s hard not to read it that way. That’s how it came across to me when I read it. It’s a conditional blessing. An earn it blessing. A only if you’re worthy blessedness. Which, I suppose, is a good thing. It tells us what we have to do. If you will only obey the Lord your God, diligently observing all the commandments that I am commanding you today. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Today? Well, back up a chapter. The commandments given “today” are about settling the land, about where they’ll settle and who will settle. There are commandments about how to worship and where to worship. And then that chapter ends with a string of curses. Yeah, curses. Cursed be anyone who .... Who what? Well go read them. Anyone who isn’t a good neighbor, really. Anyone who doesn’t observe personal space. There’s one about misleading a blind person on the road. There’s one, a curse to anyone who deprives the alien, the widow and the orphan of justice. Yeah, that’s in there. Curses aplenty.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">So curses in chapter 27 and blesseds in chapter 28. Kinda the way we’ve understood things most of the time. You want to be blessed? Do these things. You don’t want to be cursed? Don’t do those things. Simple enough. At least until Jesus. He seems to see blessings in a different way. It’s not so much a transaction as a state of being. It’s not do this or don’t do that. But simply you are. </p><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Matthew 5:1-12 When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 3 "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 4 "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 5 "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 6 "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 7 "Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 8 "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 9 "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 10 "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> 11 "Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.</div></div><p style="text-align: justify;">This isn’t a check list. There’s no “hey get out there and meek a little bit.” Or “maybe you ought to mourn some.” Yeah, sure, some of them we can read and say I should do more of that. But even with that, Jesus isn’t saying do this and you will be blessed. He says you are blessed. And He seems to go a long way to find something that fits everyone. He is describing what it means to be blessed. And sometimes we are blessed in states or conditions where we don’t feel very blessed. Where, in fact, we feel the opposite of blessed. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">So, then I went back to Deuteronomy. And as I reread those verses I remembered something my Hebrew professor said one day. She said that as far as she’s concerned we’ve mistranslated the commandments of God. She said that they weren’t so much check lists, or do’s and don’t, even the “thou shall” and “thou shalt not” is a mis-translation. Or at least a misunderstanding. She said that a better way to translate them is “you are those who” and “you are those who do not.” They are descriptions. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Maybe, as I remember Dr. Bird’s teaching, maybe Moses and Jesus were talking the same language. They were trying to cast a vision of who we are and how we live together, not giving us rules to slavishly follow. It was the Pharisees who got a little confused about that. Well, the Pharisees and us. We want a list. We want to check things off and not work things out. We want to know we’re right and not whether we’re loving. We want to point fingers at the wrong doers instead of embrace those in need of loving. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And in the vision is blessedness. Even the parts we don’t like all that much or wouldn’t have chosen to be in. There is blessedness to be found. Blessedness to be lived. So, can you find some blessings in the pandemic and our response to it? Can you? I think Jesus would say there are blessings to be found. Come and look with me.</p><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Shalom,</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Derek </div></div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-85001189794327288192020-08-01T12:29:00.002-07:002020-08-01T12:29:23.386-07:00All Day<div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Psalm 145:17-21</b> The LORD is just in all his ways, and kind in all his doings. 18 The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. 19 He fulfills the desire of all who fear him; he also hears their cry, and saves them. 20 The LORD watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy. 21 My mouth will speak the praise of the LORD, and all flesh will bless his holy name forever and ever.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’m writing this during the pandemic of 2020. It’s beginning to appear that maybe we’ll come through it. Things are beginning to open up again. Folks are out and about these days. Most are wearing masks, though. A sign that not everything is the same. That normal has shifted. You’ll be a better judge of that from where you are. You can see what has changed, you are living the new normal. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There are predictions aplenty. From the apocalyptic to the “it was just a bad cold.” And some are making their argument with some volume and passion. I don’t want to argue one way or the other, especially since you readers will have a better perspective on all of this from where you are. I just want to talk about one aspect for a moment. This work from home thing. This shelter in place. This being here with whoever is in the house all day long. In my case, just two of us. My wife of 40 years and me. Well, there’s also a three legged dog and two cats with personality to spare. But people wise, for months it’s just been the two of us. Kids are gone and on their own, trying to make it in a difficult economy. Just us. All day. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before you put words in my mouth, it’s been great. Really. We get along well, and have enjoyed one another’s company. We’ve learned even more how to anticipate one another, how to serve and care for one another, how to love. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That’s what it’s about, isn’t it? That’s why the psalmist talks about the very nature of God so confidently. Because God is close, all day. From that closeness comes knowing and trusting and hoping. From that closeness comes a certainty. Of course it is still faith, we don’t know for sure. Just like I don’t always know what my wife will say or do, but I can guess. Out of love, I can guess really well. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">OK, sure, I get it wrong sometimes. Or because of my moods I forget to pay attention, forget to think of her rather than just me. It isn’t perfect, it isn’t paradise. Just like faith is not the same as knowing, and loving with my own will isn’t the same as loving with God’s will. Or Jesus’ will. Or the Spirit. But some days we get it right. Some days we are on track. And I believe it is because of the closeness. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes, when things aren’t going so well, what we think we need is space. A little distance would be good. And perhaps there are times when that does give you a little bit of perspective. I value alone time as much as anyone, and probably more than most. But I can’t help but think that this forced closeness has been good for us. Good for me anyway. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">James says draw near to God and God will draw near to you. (<i>James 4:8</i>) It’s a promise, of sorts. But more a description of what happens. The only way to know someone, to know God is to draw near. You can’t know from a distance. Oh, you can know of, you can know about. But you can’t know. And even more, you can’t be known. Which is what we want, in the end, isn’t it? To be known. All day long.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Derek </div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-31981317153577179022020-07-25T10:08:00.001-07:002020-07-25T10:08:11.763-07:00Day One<div style="text-align: justify;"><b>2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17</b> As to the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our being gathered together to him, we beg you, brothers and sisters, 2 not to be quickly shaken in mind or alarmed, either by spirit or by word or by letter, as though from us, to the effect that the day of the Lord is already here. 3 Let no one deceive you in any way; for that day will not come unless the rebellion comes first and the lawless one is revealed, the one destined for destruction. 4 He opposes and exalts himself above every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, declaring himself to be God. 5 Do you not remember that I told you these things when I was still with you? ... But we must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the first fruits for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and through belief in the truth. 14 For this purpose he called you through our proclamation of the good news, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. 15 So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter. 16 Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, 17 comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">“We’ve never done it that way.” It’s a threat, or so it feels to many church leaders. Or not a threat so much as a warning. Or an incantation against change of any sort. Some have said they are the last words of the institutional church. We’ve never done it that way. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yet, it not hard to imagine that sentiment. The desire to cling to what has always been, there is security in sameness. There is comfort in familiarity. Indeed, there seems to be an inherent good in preservation. Paul tells the Thessalonians to “hold fast to the traditions.” That seems to be a call to resist change. To keep doing the same things over and over. We like our traditions, they define us. We’ve been doing them since day one, we say, since the very beginning. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But what are those traditions to which Paul calls us to cling? Are they indeed the practices that we have been doing since day one? Are the traditions that Paul tells us to stand firm upon the behaviors and the actions, indeed even the words, the familiar words that we have spouted since we learned the faith? Well, maybe. In part. Ritual is important even in our day. Repeated actions can give us a sense of belonging, of connection and even of understanding. We partake of the holy meal again and again, and sometimes something shines through. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Perhaps, however, what Paul is really trying to get the Thessalonians to consider is not so much the doing, but the foundation. The tradition is the love that fosters the behaviors. That’s what Paul wants them and us to stand firm on. Actions change by necessity. Words evolve new meanings and understandings. But the love that gives birth to words and action remains the same. Stand firm on that love. That’s what has been with you since day one. Hold fast to that.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Loving God, teach us to love, even when it is hard, even when it takes effort. Let us hold fast to what makes us your church. Amen.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That’s our prayer and our hope. That’s what has defined us since day one, that love. Love of God and love of neighbor, Jesus said that they are the same. You can’t have the one without the other. In Revelation, John the Evangelist tells the church of Ephesus that they may be doing some good things, they may have an understanding of the law and want to drive out evil-doers, but that their biggest problem is that they forgot their first love.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Revelation 2:1-4</b> "To the angel of the church in Ephesus write: These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand, who walks among the seven golden lampstands: 2 "I know your works, your toil and your patient endurance. I know that you cannot tolerate evildoers; you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them to be false. 3 I also know that you are enduring patiently and bearing up for the sake of my name, and that you have not grown weary. 4 But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The letter goes on to say that unless they reclaim that love, unless they stand firm on that tradition, that their lampstand will be taken away. In other words they won’t be the church any more. If what you are doing as the church, if what drives you is not love, love of God and love of neighbor, then you aren’t the church anymore. You are something else, maybe doing something good, maybe causing more harm, but you aren’t the church. You aren’t the representative of God’s grace and glory in the world. Because that is what defines us. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Make all the law based arguments you want. Go back and cherry pick exclusionary behaviors scattered throughout the scriptures. And there are plenty to choose from. But if you aren’t starting from a position of loving neighbor ... And don’t try that tough love thing, that hides a deep disgust and animosity toward those who are different. Don’t try that the most loving thing to do is to force them into obedience, condemn them into transformation. That simply hides an Ephesus-like loss of love. If you aren’t starting from a position of love, you aren’t the church. You aren’t a follower of Jesus Christ. Because that is the foundation of what we do, that is the tradition upon which we stand. Rituals won’t matter a lick if we aren’t doing them out of love, love of God and love of neighbor. Tradition won’t matter at all if we aren’t doing them out of love, love of God and love of neighbor. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We’ve never done it that way before. Well, maybe that is our problem. It was G. K. Chesterton who said “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.” Even though our foundation, our tradition from day one has been one of love, maybe we’ve never really tried it. Maybe it is time for a new day one. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Derek </div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-51932940071317092272020-07-12T15:35:00.000-07:002020-07-12T15:35:53.684-07:00Dancing Day<div>Psalm 149:1-9 Praise the LORD! Sing to the LORD a new song, his praise in the assembly of the faithful. 2 Let Israel be glad in its Maker; let the children of Zion rejoice in their King. 3 Let them praise his name with dancing, making melody to him with tambourine and lyre. 4 For the LORD takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with victory. 5 Let the faithful exult in glory; let them sing for joy on their couches. 6 Let the high praises of God be in their throats and two-edged swords in their hands, 7 to execute vengeance on the nations and punishment on the peoples, 8 to bind their kings with fetters and their nobles with chains of iron, 9 to execute on them the judgment decreed. This is glory for all his faithful ones. Praise the LORD!</div><div><br /></div><div>For all the range of emotion that permeates the psalms, the collection ends on a crescendo of praise. In this penultimate song there is unbridled exuberance, from raucous music and dancing, to shouting from the couches, to those who are called to bring justice to the nations. We are to take joy in our living to the glory of God. God, too, takes pleasure in God’s people, the psalmist asserts. We are in a relationship of celebration and joy, even when we do the difficult task of seeking justice.</div><div><br /></div><div>“Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day” is an English carol that presents the mission of Jesus to invite us all to join in the dance. In his own voice, and with his life, Jesus calls all to dance with joy this gift of life eternal. It could be argued that a saint is someone who says yes to that invitation. All Saints Day might be a stumbling block for some. While we all have those we might consider saintly, most of us would never consider ourselves to be so. Saint sounds like perfect, a word we know better than to apply to ourselves. </div><div><br /></div><div>If Psalm 149 can be believed, the beloved of God are those who accept the invitation to dance. A saint is one who knows something of the joy of living, even in the hardest moments of life. A saint is someone who knows something of the exuberance of praise, even when the tears fall like rain and sweat like great drops of blood. On All Saints Day we remember those whose dancing with their Lord has given us all hope. And we aspire to follow the music and dance.</div><div>“Tomorrow shall be my dancing day; / I would my true love did so chance / To see the legend of my play, / To call my true love to my dance; Sing, oh! my love, this have I done for my true love”</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, it seems odd to be writing about All Saints Day here in the middle of July. But what’s even stranger is that I’m writing about All Saints Day 2022! And then my next project for work is to plan for the Advent worship series for this year. Whew, it’s hard to keep it all straight. I feel somewhat disconnect from time. </div><div><br /></div><div>I used to work ahead, that’s true. I began a process of setting a preaching plan a year out, so yes I was thinking and working months out. But the intense work happened closer to the time. Now it all seems somewhat disjointed. Like I don’t really know what day it is, or month, or time. </div><div><br /></div><div>That’s the effect of the pandemic, too. I saw a meme with the declaration that “from now on the days of the week will be “this day” and “that day” and “the other day”!” Makes sense to me, I suppose. The days flow together, the rhythms are off. We all want to get back to normal, even though we realize we never will.</div><div><br /></div><div>But what if this is just an exercise in eternity? How will the days be marked in heaven? Will we know one from another? Maybe we don’t need to know. Maybe the object is simply to lose ourselves in the dance. Maybe heaven will be marked not by time, but by opportunities to love, occasions to praise, moments of music and dancing. </div><div><br /></div><div>We already know a good movie by how we lose track of time when we’re watching it. We know a good party when we don’t even realize that it’s gotten so late. So, why don’t we start living in eternity now? Just say yes to the One who invites you to dance and lose yourself in loving.</div><div><br /></div><div>And forget what day it is. Happy All Saints Day! And Advent season. And July 2020. All at the same time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Shalom, </div><div>Derek</div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-39867714638541689882020-07-05T09:09:00.003-07:002020-07-05T09:09:55.414-07:00On That Day<div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Luke 20:27-38</b> Some Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, came to him 28 and asked him a question, "Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man's brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. 29 Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; 30 then the second 31 and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. 32 Finally the woman also died. 33 In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her." 34 Jesus said to them, "Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage; 35 but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. 36 Indeed they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. 37 And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. 38 Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I remember that day. Over 42 years ago. That day I stood up there before God and everybody and made promises that were impossible to keep. Oh, I didn’t think so at the time. I was sure it was within my power to love and honor and cherish as long as we both should live. I was ready to take this leap, ready to remake my life around this other life, this woman I loved. It was exciting, I was happy, I was ready. Little did I know. Over 42 years I’ve learned how little I knew. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had to learn that this kind of love is beyond us as human beings. This kind of commitment is out of our reach. At least it is beyond us on our own. For this covenantal love to work it takes mutuality; two wills, two hearts working in tandem. It also needs a supportive community to surround the couple. Also the abiding presence of the Spirit, pouring out love and forgiveness in abundance. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Sadducees weren’t asking about this, of course. They were asking about eternity. Since eternity is understood to come through offspring who carry on the name, how does this eternity thing work in resurrection? Jesus side-stepped the whole question. Or rather he answered the question behind the question. Eternity works by different rules than you thought. It isn’t your effort that makes it work, it is God’s. It isn’t what you can do to ensure eternity, it’s what God does.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Who knows how Jesus would have answered if the question was different. If it was about intimacy and commitment and about love, and not about manipulating a place in eternity. Maybe it would have been an assurance that love and relationship is what makes us alive, and that does continue in the resurrection.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Covenant God, inspire our hearts to love like you taught us to love, like the love Jesus showed us. Every day. Amen.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I know, it says 42 years and it’s only 40. But the above is for the devotional that I’m writing and it will be for the year 2022. Published in 2021, but the Disciplines for 2022. There’s a part of me that says that’s a long way off and who knows what I’ll be thinking or doing, or what the reader will be thinking or doing by then. Things seem to be changing all the time these days. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At the same time, I’m finding reservoirs of love and grace that I had forgotten were there in this time where it is mostly just me and her. And 57 cats and a dog. OK 2 cats, but some days it feels like more. We see other people, I zoom with other people, we text and video chat our kids all over the place. But most of the time, the day to day, it’s just me and her. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Someone made a meme that says after the pandemic the ones making money will be hairdressers and divorce lawyers. Maybe that’s true for some. (And I did have to get a haircut recently, now that we are slowly opening things here in Tennessee.) But what I’m finding is that maybe that day I did something right. This person who has followed me all over the world, who has set up house in more places that I can even recall easily, who has taken our residence and made it home, that she really is a gift from God. And I’m eternally grateful. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Eternally. No, we can’t capture eternity in our minds. It is beyond us. I’m troubled by Jesus statement. But I’ve learned to trust Him. So, I guess we’ll find out what He meant on another That day. I’ve been blessed by many loves in my life. But none like this one. And I can’t imagine it not being there. Even in the eternity we are promised. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Life continues, Jesus says, love continues in eternity. So I think His response to the Sadducees was stop trying to figure out that time, and live eternity in this day. In this life. In this love. Because when you do, then you have an inkling as to what it might be like. On that day. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Derek</div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-52434206267300042662020-06-27T11:36:00.001-07:002020-06-27T11:36:22.922-07:00Someday<div style="text-align: justify;">The theme is coming into view. The theme for the week of devotions I’m writing. My deadline is just over a month away, and I’m finding my writing falling into place. Still, it is hard to keep it to the proper length. I want to weave more words into the story. But I’m doing what I’m told, and following the rules.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One thing that has helped is writing prayers for our Daily Prayers for Change feature through Discipleship Ministries online. We are joining with all the agencies and the council of Bishops and creating resources for anti-racism. One of the elements are daily prayers that you can receive through your email. Over 1,000 United Methodist’s are receiving these prayers Monday through Friday each week. You are invited to sign up if you’d like to be a part of the group praying for change. Here’s a link:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/articles/praying-for-change-daily-prayers-for-anti-racism"> https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/articles/praying-for-change-daily-prayers-for-anti-racism</a>. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But I mention it because I’m writing some of them each week and we need to keep them brief. So, it is helping me be in the mindset of writing quickly to get to the point. Folks won’t necessarily read and pray the prayers if it takes too long. So, I’m trying to get to the point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This devotion comes from 2 Thessalonians, which purports to be written by Paul. Some scholars dispute this, however, as they do. But whoever wrote it, it is telling the church of that day and this day that we can rely on God and believe in the promise, even as we are called to be careful about who we put in charge of our vision and our hope. So, here is the devotion I’ll be submitting (after the scripture, I mean!) </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17</b> As to the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our being gathered together to him, we beg you, brothers and sisters, 2 not to be quickly shaken in mind or alarmed, either by spirit or by word or by letter, as though from us, to the effect that the day of the Lord is already here. 3 Let no one deceive you in any way; for that day will not come unless the rebellion comes first and the lawless one is revealed, the one destined for destruction. 4 He opposes and exalts himself above every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, declaring himself to be God. 5 Do you not remember that I told you these things when I was still with you? ... But we must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the first fruits for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and through belief in the truth. 14 For this purpose he called you through our proclamation of the good news, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. 15 So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter. 16 Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, 17 comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Waiting is always hard. You can smell those cookies baking. You watch the clock hands move. And it seems interminable. So you try to hurry it along. You open the oven before the cake is done. You attempt to make the clock hands move faster by sheer force of will. But nothing. Waiting is inevitable. And difficult. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That’s why Jesus never just says “wait!” There was always something else. “Watch and wait.” Or “keep awake and be ready.” Waiting is not empty time. It is time for doing. Not just busy work to keep you distracted. We’re waiting for Jesus, for the Kin-dom of God, for fulfillment. So our waiting is learning to live as though it was already here. We practice Kin-dom living every day. Yet, we always know there is more. That’s what 2 Thessalonians is telling us. Don’t assume we’re done, don’t assume this is the best it can get. We don’t wait with eyes closed, acting as if this life doesn’t matter because there will be a day when someone else sets it all right. No, we wait by working with the Spirit to build the Someday that is coming.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We need a Someday; a vision of what might be possible. Not to distract us, or lull us into laziness or push us into despair. The Someday we long for is fulfillment, the blessed community, the experience of love. When we get a taste of it, we can rejoice. We can comfort our hearts and take strength from that experience; that kiss of grace that comes from a surprising place. We strive for more, for justice, for peace, for mercy in this life. We can smell those cookies baking and wait with hope.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Loving God, we wait for the fulfillment promised by your Son. May we never give up hope, may be never stop leaning into Someday. Walk with us, that we might see and know the Kin-dom. Amen.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Derek </div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-44668680815154649892020-06-14T09:01:00.001-07:002020-06-14T09:01:11.673-07:00Every Day<div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Psalm 145:1-5, 17-21</b> I will extol you, my God and King, and bless your name forever and ever. 2 Every day I will bless you, and praise your name forever and ever. 3 Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; his greatness is unsearchable. 4 One generation shall laud your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts. 5 On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works, I will meditate. ... 17 The LORD is just in all his ways, and kind in all his doings. 18 The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. 19 He fulfills the desire of all who fear him; he also hears their cry, and saves them. 20 The LORD watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy. 21 My mouth will speak the praise of the LORD, and all flesh will bless his holy name forever and ever.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Every day I will bless the Lord. Every day? Yes, every day. What about the days I regret, the days when everything goes wrong, when I make bad choices or fall into bad circumstances? Every day. What about the days when it seems like the world is heading to hell in a hand-basket? What about the days when loving my neighbors seems impossible because I can’t stand some of those neighbors and the ways they choose to live their lives? What about the days when I get so disgusted reading social media because every one’s opinion seems so far from mine and theirs make so much less sense? Those days too? Every day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It seems to be asking a lot, this Psalm 145. And it certainly would be, if praise was a response to circumstance. Let’s be honest there are days when praise is easy. It just kind of rolls off our tongues, just oozes out of our pores. Praise as a response is a fun and uplifting kind of thing that we all enjoy. But Psalm 145 isn’t talking about praise as a response. It is talking about praise as a way of life. Or perhaps an act of will. Every day I will bless the Lord is a decision and not a reaction. Every day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">You can then see the rest of the psalm, after the every day declaration, as a list of ways to maintain the pledge. Meditate on God’s works, see God’s justice, feel God’s nearness, listen for answers to prayer. All these ways can keep us praising, even the days we don’t necessarily feel like it. But then there’s a challenge to accept with this praise way of life, and that is to get others to praise along with you. Maybe the buddy system for praising keeps us on task. Every day I will bless God’s name. Every day. And today.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">OK, I’m still working on my devotions for the Upper Room Disciplines. The above is one. It still needs some editing and a prayer added in. But there it is. If anyone wants to make a comment to let me know what you think of the shorter format, I’d appreciate it. Thanks for being a faithful reader.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Derek</div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-82215623773953835292020-05-30T22:37:00.001-07:002020-05-30T22:37:33.650-07:00How Does It Look to You Now?<div style="text-align: justify;">I’m discovering my role on the team. I work with some amazing people here, on my team and in the agency in general. They continually amaze me with their knowledge and experience and the passion with which they do their jobs. Even in this strange times we find ourselves in these days. Which means that I see them on Zoom, little squares of people as we gather for meetings large and small. I’m old enough that the first images that comes to mind when I think of our Zoom communication is the intro to the Brady Bunch. You remember that sitcom - “It’s a story, or a lovely lady ...” You’re singing it now, aren’t you? Well, some of you. But they were in those boxes looking down and around at each other. That’s the first Zoom meeting, it seems to me. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Where was I? Oh, yes, my role in the incredible team. I’m the writer. I know, I thought I was going to be the preacher, but no. There aren’t enough opportunities to preach. But write. It is all I do it seems. Except for Zoom meetings. Which makes it odd, I guess, that on the weekend, I write. Still. I love it. I love words, and putting them together and making sense out of a world that doesn’t really make much sense any more. Or attempting to make sense. So, I write, a lot. I write preaching notes and worship ideas for every series that we produce. I write articles about worship and preaching. I write responses to questions that come in. I write reports, and proposals. I just write a lot. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Don’t get me wrong, the others write too. And do it well. I’m just often tasked with putting our conversations into written words, or coming up with descriptions of the podcasts that we record, or putting into words emotions that arise among us and threaten to choke us up. I do that. And I love it. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Which is why I was honored to be asked this spring if I would write a week’s worth of devotions for the <b>Upper Room Disciplines</b>. This is different from the monthly <b>Upper Room Devotional</b>. This is whole year’s worth of devotions published in one book together. I’m writing the week that includes All Saints Day (Nov.1) in 2022. It’ll come out in fall of 2021, so watch for it. :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But I thought I’d test out my devotionals here in this space. The problem is they have to be very short, 325 words. Considering my last post here was a little over 5 times that amount, it seems really short. That’s why the long introduction. I’m given four texts and because I have All Saints Day in my week, I get four more. And I’m supposed to use them all over the week. So, for the next few weeks you get to read my musings on these texts and figure out (and maybe help me figure out) which 325 words I can use for the devotional.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And I thought I’d start with the hardest one. At least from the first reading a while ago. (I admit, I set this aside for a while, but the deadline is now closer, so I need to get working on this, along with the other things I have to write!) I love the Hebrew Bible stories, but there are parts that I don’t pay a lot of attention to. And this is one of those. Take a look.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Haggai 2:1-9 In the second year of King Darius, in the seventh month, on the twenty-first day of the month, the word of the LORD came by the prophet Haggai, saying: 2 Speak now to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and to the remnant of the people, and say, 3 Who is left among you that saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Is it not in your sight as nothing? 4 Yet now take courage, O Zerubbabel, says the LORD; take courage, O Joshua, son of Jehozadak, the high priest; take courage, all you people of the land, says the LORD; work, for I am with you, says the LORD of hosts, 5 according to the promise that I made you when you came out of Egypt. My spirit abides among you; do not fear. 6 For thus says the LORD of hosts: Once again, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land; 7 and I will shake all the nations, so that the treasure of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with splendor, says the LORD of hosts. 8 The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, says the LORD of hosts. 9 The latter splendor of this house shall be greater than the former, says the LORD of hosts; and in this place I will give prosperity, says the LORD of hosts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Huh. Not necessarily Huh? But certainly just huh. What do we do with that? This is very specific, look at all those names and dates. It’s like a bad history class. Names of people we don’t know from Adam. Or Archduke Ferdinand. Or Chaing Kai-Shek. It just seems like a mess, right? A right zerubbabel, you might say. And a date that seems somewhat arbitrary. July 21st. Seventh month, twenty-first day. Except it wasn’t July. July hadn’t been invented yet. Actually, it was called Tishrei, and it was a very important month. Rosh Hashana happens in Tishrei, as does Yom Kippur, and Sukkot (or the Feast of Tabernacles) and Hoshana Rabbah which is the seventh day of the Feast of Sukkot and a special synagogue service marked by processions and the sounding of the shofar and it happened on the twenty-first day of the seventh month. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Did you get all that? It was a loud day, a party day. It was a celebration of what God has done for God’s people, and marked my movement and music and food and joy. On that day the Lord spoke to Haggai. That day. Haggai probably said “What?” and held his hand behind his ear. “Was that the shofar or was that God?” </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But somehow God got through the noise of that celebratory worship. And what was the message? It was all about God’s house. The temple and how it was rebuilt, or not rebuilt. It didn’t have the style it used to have, didn’t have the glory. And even on this loud day of celebration there was a ho hum quality to their worship. It ain’t what it used to be. “How does it look to you now?” Is God trying to shame them? King Zerubbabel? Prophet Haggai? Everyone? You’ve given me a shack, God says, a dump, an eyesore!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">No, it doesn’t seem that way. I wonder, in fact, if God is actually hinting about something beyond the building anyway. Yeah the second temple wasn’t as grand as the first. But God says, don’t worry about it. I’m with you. I’m always with you. And guess what? Things are going to get shaky. Stuff is going to happen. You’re going to be afraid. You’re going to wonder what’s up. You’re going to feel ... shaky. And then you’re going to figure out what really matters. What the treasure really is. And it’s mine. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Wait. God’s going to threaten us? For a ransom? No, I don’t think so. Shaking happens. Is happening. And pat of what gets shaken is our priorities. But as always, we have a choice. We can choose to go after God’s treasure, the stuff that really matters. Like loving God and neighbor, like self-sacrifice and service, like building up and making better, like equality and justice, and peace. Or we can choose the shaky stuff. The temporary stuff. The stuff like the second rate temple building that doesn’t really satisfy anyone. We can cling to our lifestyle and our rights and our so-called freedom. And still miss out on the splendor of God. The splendor God promises to fill our spaces with.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There are those to value buildings and festivals and the right to ignore science and safety. And while they are doing it, blowing their own horns and making all the ruckus. There are those who value a way of life that over-values some while devaluing others, they shout about their right to hate. And it is during the noise of this protestation that God says “how does it look to you now?” </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">No so great. I vote for the glory of God. Fill our spaces with your presence, as we care for the most vulnerable among us. Shake us up until we begin to see what we are doing to one another, to those who are different, and finally begin to see the treasure that they are. The treasure that we all are. Only then, will God’s splendor return. The latter splendor, the splendor of peace, the splendor of justice, the splendor of equality will be greater than the former. Because we choose love.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shalom, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Derek </div>Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-48798527099362591312020-05-22T19:41:00.000-07:002020-05-22T19:41:04.016-07:00Festival of Homiletics 2020, Virtual Edition Day Five: Lament and LongingPeter Mayer and his family are singing as I write these closing thoughts from the last day of the Almost Festival of Homiletics. Peter Mayer is a guitarist, played with Jimmy Buffet, and maybe still does, I don’t know. But I know that he’s really good. He sings with his son Brendan and others from time to time appear. He isn’t really here, but it’s like watching to original MTV, when it was music videos. It is the best of Peter Mayer, music videos. Peter sings songs of faith, when he isn’t with Jimmy. Not that Jimmy Buffet isn’t a person of faith, don’t want to upset any parrot heads who might read this.<br />
<br />
It was an interested final day of the Virtual Festival. After we were welcomed and blessed by another of the organizers, I forgot to record her name. But she thanked everyone she could think of, and had a better list than I did. It was a usual end of event kind of welcome. Thanking everyone who made it happen. Everyone who made a major shift to make this happen in this new way in a short period of time. And it worked. No, it wasn’t the same, but it worked. I am grateful for those who went out of their way to make this happen.<br />
<br />
Then we worshiped together. I did catch the musicians names today. Uriah Moore was the pianist and singer, and Una Brown was the singer. They did a great job all week. The preacher for the service was Rev. Dr. Raphael Warnock, Senior Pastor of Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta. Yeah, that one. I sometimes struggled to follow the pastors I had to follow. To preach from the pulpit made famous by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would be daunting to say the least.<br />
<br />
Dr. Warnock preached from the prophet Joel, and he called us to Lament. It’s a language unique to God’s people, he argues, a language that we seem to be losing in our self-sufficient culture. A language that just might save us. Lament. Not a whine. Not a complaint. Lament. It is a cry out to God. It is an acknowledgment of a difficult situation, it is an admission of helplessness. Lament. It is a surrender. It is a invitation to be opened up to new possibilities. Which begins when we learn how to praise even as we lament. How to cling to faith and cling to hope, even when despair seems the more logical step. Lament.<br />
<br />
Later in the afternoon, the preacher was Bishop Robert Wright, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Atlanta. His text was Psalm 42 and his title was “Like a Deer.” I think he should have named it Longing. That was the theme, or one of them anyway. His over all theme, with the theme of the Festival, was about the care of the planet. But Psalm 42 calls us to care by longing. Longing for a better world. Longing for a more faithful witness. Longing for a faith secure in the promises of God, not in the resources of our economy. Of course we need to live, we know that, God knows that, at least Jesus said so. But we don’t need to destroy. We don’t need to deplete. We don’t need to take from others that we might have more. We’ve got to live. But that we is an inclusive we. We all have to live. Bishop Wright quoted that well known theologian Theodore Geisel, or as some of us knew him, Dr. Seuss. The bishop quoted from that book that was banned in some circles because it seemed too radical, too environmental for our culture, The Lorax: “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” Maybe caring a whole awful lot means starting with Lament and moving toward Longing.<br />
<br />
Part of what I long for is a place to preach more regularly. I do enjoy the freedom to have a Saturday, I must admit, and to face Sunday without the anxiety of proclamation weighing on me. But still, it miss it. It was a part of my life for a long time. Perhaps that is why I wasn’t terribly excited about the lecture titled “Less Stress Preaching and Prep.” It felt like an intro to preaching course. Admittedly the Rev. Dr. Raquel S. Lettsome, Associate Minister at Union AME and Managing Partner of Say AMEN!, had a solid presentation and she brought in the unique pressures of preaching during a pandemic and the shelter at home phenomenon. But I found my mind wandering as I imagined how I would be preaching now, what I might say and what I might try to do. Name your anxieties, Dr. Lettsome advised. So, I did.<br />
<br />
The interview was with Rev. Neichelle Guidry, Liturgist and Scholar, Dean of the Chapel and Director of the Wisdom Center at Spelman College. She spoke with enthusiasm and passion about women who preach, and about helping victims of abuse find a voice and community of welcome. She talked about preaching as a corporate act, not dominated by a preacher, but shared as a conversation within the body of those who gather, believers and those who aren’t believers yet. I admit, it was fun listening to her passion for what it is that she offers.<br />
<br />
There was music, as I said at the beginning. Peter and Brenden Mayer, and also Fran McKendree, who sang and played while we watched a slide show of previous Festivals, you know back when you could shake a hand and give someone a pat on the back. There were also slides of the behind the scenes people who made this year’s Festival possible, and screen shots of the speakers and preachers we heard. It was not the same, but it was good. I am thankful, but am still praying that next year we’ll be able to go to Denver and sit in the same room and worship together. Just like I am sure many of you are hoping that soon you can gather with your family and worship together. Let’s long for that together.<br />
<br />
Shalom,<br />
Derek<br />
#Homiletics2020Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-50795950584929667652020-05-21T14:41:00.001-07:002020-05-22T19:40:20.913-07:00Festival of Homiletics 2020 Virtual Edition, Day Four: Truth that Matters<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today I was part of the recording of a Podcast, and then quickly having to write a description of the same Podcast because the web folk were working quickly because of the holiday weekend. I wrote up and sent off a proposal for an online Preaching Webinar about tips and techniques for Preaching Online, not sure when that will be released, but soon. And I managed to attend a full day of the Almost Festival of Homiletics!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Virtual, I mean, not almost. The Virtual Festival. Another good day and again I give credit to the planners and organizers. I’m actually writing while the last session is underway. It’s a music group called “The Fleshpots of Egypt” or the “Fleshpots” for short. A group of seminary professors and pastors playing bluegrass gospel songs. You have to see them to believe it. They have a lot of fun. Even in the streamed version, they are enjoying themselves tremendously. Full disclosure, I’m not a big bluegrass fan, but these guys are a lot of fun.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But let me go back to the beginning of the day with the Festival for my reflections. We began with the welcome and blessing of Rev. Antony Bailey hosting us from his home in Toronto Canada and he walked us through the schedule for the day and then had a little devotion for us. Originally from Barbados, Antony is a frequent host at the Festival and brings a gracious spirit with him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This was more like a “normal” day at the Festival, in that I heard three sermons today, and a lecture and an interview, before the Fleshpots. You just have to keep saying the Fleshpots, it seems to me. It’s not a word I type all that often. Anyway, the first worship experience was led by our musicians and liturgists. Most of whom are invisible. The prayer time, for example, is floating words, inviting us into a spirit of prayer. The voices are prompters and not performers. Sometimes we have landscape pictures to help us in our spiritual imagination. Sometimes the words alone, or a candle flame flickering with our virtual breath in the space we create. The musicians likewise are often obscured by images. Once in a while we get a glimpse of them, a young African American man on the piano and an older African American woman at a microphone. I think their names appear briefly as they begin to sing. I’ll have to pay attention more tomorrow. I’ve been appreciative of their ability to lead us, usually with familiar hymns of the faith. I am grateful for what they add to the worship feel.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The preacher for the first time slot was Dr. Cynthia Hale, Senior Pastor of Ray of Hope Church is Decatur Georgia. I think every church should be named Ray of Hope, don’t you? We should declare what we are doing with our name. Her sermon was titled “Don’t Panic: God is in Control!” With exclamation point. And that’s exactly how she preached. With exclamation points. She was hampered, I am sure, by the lack of response in her call and response style of preaching, but it didn’t slow her down. She leaned on us to trust in the promises. It was a recitation of words that have brought the people of God hope for centuries I have to confess I was looking for something deeper, something surprising. To be honest, based on the title, Don’t Panic, I was also expecting a few Douglas Adams quotes from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, but there were none. But maybe we need to be reminded of the eternal truths from time to time. God is still in control. Amen? Amen.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Following Dr. Hale was a lecture titled “‘Is it True? Does it Matter’ Preaching that Saves Lives.” The lecturer was new to me, but I confess to being swept up in her topic quickly. Her name is Rev. Dr. Katie Hays, and she is the Senior Pastor of Galileo Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Fort Worth Texas. She planted that church and has intentionally directed her attention to the marginalized peoples of our society. In their mission statement it states that Galileo Church is “a next church community of belonging that seeks and shelters spiritual refugees, especially LGBTQ+ people and those who love them.” </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Her lecture challenged all of us who preach to consider not just truth, but truth that matters. Telling someone something that is true might not save them, might not bring them the hope that they need, might not be meeting them in their brokenness and leading them into deeper and more profound relationships of truth and salvation. What is our preaching trying to do? That was the question she was asking us. Are we preachers giving answers to questions no one is asking, while we ignore the deeper needs, wounds and potential of the people around us, inside and outside the church. It is a message that we need to return to again and again as we examine our preaching. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I am preparing, for instance, to present a webinar on how to preach online, a part of my content must pay attention to the why of preaching and not just the how. My shelves are full of books on the how, but those who pay attention to the why are more rare. I took another look at my outline as I listened to Dr Hays speak today.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Two sermons followed in quick succession. And they were stand alone sermons, outside of the context, even the almost context of this virtual world. They were just dropped in on us from above. Antony Bailey’s voice introduced them, but that was the only contextualization of these two sermons. It was unsettling to say the least.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But then they were unsettling sermons. Maybe that was part of the intent. Lenny Duncan, who is introduced as “pastor/author/speaker/activist”, preached on Awaiting the God who Answers from Habakkuk. It was a plea to pay attention to who is left out, left out of the recovery efforts, left out of the health care system, left out of our attention. But also what does it mean to say we await a God who answers? Where are the answers? How do we know them, recognize them, listen to them? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
William Barber continued that theme in his sermon that followed. Rev. William Barber is a life long advocate for the poor and the head of the Poor People’s Campaign in Washington DC. He, as he often does, astounds us with statistics about the depth of poverty in this the greatest country in the world. And like Lenny Duncan before him, asked us how we can justify doing nothing about the injustice rampant in our nation? How can we call ourselves followers of Christ and yet be content with death on such a scale. Duncan and Barber both reminded us of the national debate when it comes to the reopening of our economy and how often it devolved into a discussion at to which lives are worth saving. Sermons that came out of nowhere and left us breathless and trembling, if we just paid attention. What truths really matter, as Dr. Hays might ask.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We concluded with an interview of Jonathan Wilson-Hargrave, a Spiritual Writer and Public Speaker, according to his bio. He didn’t let us off the hook either. Insisting that spiritual life has to manifest itself in social justice, we were encourage to take words of those like Barber and Duncan to heart as we seek to walk with Jesus. Walking with Jesus cannot be a walk in the garden alone, despite the gospel song. To walk with Jesus is to walk through the truths of the world as it really is, as we are living it out every day, as individuals and as a nation. In fact, I might have to read some of his writing because he said in the interview, that coming from North Carolina, he was aware of just how much the bible says “y’all” and not just you. I believe that I’ve heard that before somewhere.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Fleshpots have sung themselves off the stage and it’s time to wrap this up. One more day of the Festival and what I hear, I’ll share with you.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shalom,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Derek</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
#Homiletics2020</div>
Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-75362916515064974812020-05-20T19:25:00.002-07:002020-05-20T19:25:25.512-07:00Festival of Homiletics 2020, Virtual Edition, Days Two and Three:Certain Uncertainty<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because of work responsibilities I am only getting a partial experience of the Festival in this “almost” experience. But even if I could hang on every spoken word, I would still be getting only a partial experience. One of the elements of the Festival experience is gathering together with colleagues from all over the world into a shared space and hearing the sound of 1,500 voices singing the great hymns of the faith, and leaning into the proclaimed word, caught up in the Spirit that moves through. Sitting up here in the spare room, the “room of requirement” that can become whatever we need it to be, except that it can’t become the cathedral like sanctuary of Peachtree Road United Methodist Church, which is where we were supposed to have been. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Still, I don’t want to moan too much. A little moaning is OK, isn’t it? But not too much. And I have to give credit to the organizers, they are trying really hard to capture the moment as best they can. And there have been some good sermons in this unusual setting, some good conversations and some amazing music. And maybe that’s what we need right now. Almost. Something that speaks of what was, what we remember together, and also recognizes that everything has changed. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Day Two began with the Rev. Otis Moss III preaching in his empty sanctuary in Chicago about the Certain Uncertainty. He too, like many of us, is almost done hearing “these uncertain times.” And yet, what better description can there be about the life of the follower of Jesus? Everything is uncertain, except the certainty of the presence of the One we follow. And in the end, that is enough. What we need, Moss declares is to look beyond the frame. To look for the support that stands with us. Here the camera he was using pulled back and revealed his wife sitting in the pew next to him. We lean into the support of the God who calls us, but we feel it in the people around us. Who is supporting you, who is praying you through, who is just out of the frame and on your side? In the certain uncertainty, we need to remember those who brought us to where we are.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was in and out yesterday and didn’t catch all of anything else. But I heard parts of Dr. Ellen Davis, biblical scholar from Duke University, talking about “Telling the Truth: Ungodly Facts, Real Power, and Holy Fear.” Dr. Davis’s thesis was reminding us of the Exodus event, and how Moses was called to speak truth to power, even at the risk of his life, and the fear that his own people had when he chose to do that. Sometimes, slavery seems safer than the risk of resistance. Sometimes, the destruction of the world is safer than the risk of changing a way of life so that life may continue.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I caught most of Dr. Joy Moore’s sermon titled “Breathless Anticipation.” Her sermon was based on Romans 8, reminding us what a shocking statement Paul made when he said “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing to the glory about to be revealed to us.” Which was immediately followed by “Creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.” The breathless anticipation is because of the great need, the great suffering that all of creation endures, while it hopes for the people of God to finally understanding stewardship of all that is. The glory is not just the someday of the coming new age, the Kingdom, or Kin-dom as many of us are now naming it. But it is in the translation of this world to that one. It is in the rescuing for what the world has been and can be, once we stop our mad dash toward destruction. Creation waits for us to be who God calls us to be.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dr. Leah Schade was the subject of an interview in the next time slot. I got to hear a part of it before having to go to yet another zoom call. I met Leah at a conference last December, she made a presentation of her major work, “Preaching in the Purple Zone.” The purple zone is trying to walk the middle of our great national divide between the red and the blue, attempting to speak into this polarity and be heard. Or better yet, let the gospel be heard. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I came back in time to hear Grace Kelly sing and play us out. Grace has been a part of the Festival before, and I remember being amazed at her talent and heart. She is a jazz saxophonist and singer of blues and jazz. And she’s Asian American. Sometimes it’s like I am looking at Maddie sing the blues. It seems incongruous on the one hand, but oh so amazing on the other. Grace sings and plays of a spirit that connects, that teaches love, risks loving. It was a beautiful ending to day two.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Day three was even more sketchy than the previous. We had an all staff meeting a Discipleship Ministries in the morning and then an all programming staff meeting in the afternoon. So, I missed a lot today. I did, however, hear a sermon for Olu Brown, a pastor from Atlanta who planted a church near the airport and somehow managed to grow it into a multi site church and now online church with a reach in the multiple thousands. Oddly enough, tomorrow the Worship Team is recording a podcast with Olu about the use of technology in worship. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
His sermon was titled Imagine, based on the end of the book of Revelation, Olu was asking us to not let our imagination sit on the sidelines as we work toward what Christ as promised for all of creation. To not settle for what is but continue to long for what can be, what might be, what God intends for each person. Too often we are apt to say, that’s just the way things are. And have stopped asking why are they this way? And why are we content with this? Whether we’re talking about our own lives, our human community or the condition of the planet as a whole, we need to imagine a better reality, a more God-breathed reality. Don’t stop imagining.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then I was able to hear most of Karoline Lewis’s lecture on leading with the sermon. Preaching, she argues, as do many others (I’ve even been know to talk about this when I teach) that the sermon is not just a Sunday morning moment of uplift or inspiration, but a way of shepherding the flock into becoming the body of Christ. Much of what she shared I knew, and yet it was good to hear it outlined the way she did. My only problem was that she started by saying she had 8 elements of the sermon as leadership, but I only got 7. So now I’ll have to wait until the recording is publish in a few weeks to find number 8.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then I was caught up in office stuff, and managed to come back in time to catch most of the closing music and worship experience led by a group called “The Many.” I was amazed at what they were doing, able to do in this disconnected medium. They sang and they prayed and they even shared in a few minutes a meditation that took my breath away in its simplicity and grace. I hope to learn more about The Many, and I’ll let you know. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shalom,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Derek</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
#Homiletics2020</div>
Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-60220711348260659262020-05-18T14:43:00.002-07:002020-05-18T14:43:26.381-07:00Festival of Homiletics 2020, Virtual Event, Day One: Almost Bent Over<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, here I am at the Festival of Homiletics, 2020. I’m not alone this time. Dora, the upstairs cat, is sleeping on the pile of boxes next to her window here in the room of requirement in #S303 here on Sawyer Brown Road, Nashville TN. Yeah, like so many other things this year, the in person Festival was canceled and replaced with this virtual edition. So, I’m up here in my home office, which sounds like an awfully grandiose title for the spare room. Or the comic book room, because that is where the comic books reside. And the room of family genealogy papers that La Donna is working her way through. All of which is why we call it “The Room of Requirement.” For the non-Harry Potter fans out there, it is the room where what you need to have happen, happens. So, since mid-March, it has been where my computer and books reside so I can do whatever I need to do for Discipleship Ministries. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This week what I am doing is attending the virtual Festival of Homiletics. As well as various other things that work requires. That’s the problem with not going away, you end up trying to it all. So, I’ll miss some of the Festival, while I maintain my virtual presence as a part of the Worship Team, and the larger Strategic Programming Team, and the Discipleship Ministries Team. It’s hard to keep all those things in motion all at once. Especially in “these difficult times.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That is the subtext of everything happening at the Festival this year. The theme is “Preaching a New Earth: Climate and Creation.” But the pandemic has focused the thinking and acting and the whole structure of the event. We’re scaled down this year, no overlapping or concurrent events, we’re not starting at 8am and ending at 7 or 8pm. Instead we’re “live at 12noon Eastern time and we end at 4pm with some music. Today, for example, after an opening welcome we had a sermon by Rev. Traci Blackmon/worship experience, a lecture on Christians and Climate Change by Climate Scientist Katherine Hayhoe, then a talk on Genesis in reverse, or undoing creation by Bill McKibben, an interview with Bishop William Willimon, and music by Ashley Cleveland. That’s Day One. Seems like a lot, but it is a light day for the Festival. Trust me on this.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, I have to give credit to the organizers who have been scrambling for these past few months to figure out what and how. It was still a significant event. The beginning of a significant event. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Rev. Traci Blackmon serves as pastor in the UCC and also is the Executive Director of Justice and Local Church Ministries. Think about that for a moment. Justice and Local Church Ministries. I don’t think, or rather I hope that isn’t two different jobs cobbled together. But rather a denominational position. Justice and Local Church Ministries. Justice isn’t something that happens somewhere else, by people apart from the functioning of the local church. No, justice is what the local church is about. What the local church does. And Rev. Blackmon says it begins by seeing. Her text was Luke 13:10-17, the woman bent over whom Jesus heals on the Sabbath causing all sort of conniptions amongst the people of power. Blackmon points out that this woman didn’t come to be healed. She was just coming to the synagogue. Coming for prayers. Coming to make her offering. She doesn’t come with a request. She is bent over, has been for 18 years - and there isn’t any indication of her age, we assume elderly because bone density and curvature of the spine is an affliction of some in the old age, but she might have been this way from birth, maybe she was 18 years old and didn’t know any life but this bent one. We don’t know. But she might have been there, worshiping beside us for years, and we knew it, we know her, but we don’t see her. That’s Blackmon’s point. The bent ones among us, the ones burdened by the injustice of this world, the one’s carrying this society’s burden of not being the majority, not being the right race, the right gender, the right ethnicity, the right economic class, she and they are bent over trying to carry all that has been piled on them, all that has been thrown at them and we don’t even see them. By choice, often. We don’t want to see them. Because seeing them might carry responsibility to do something, to heal something, to bring justice. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That’s why workers of justice in our society want us to know the names of those who are bent over by injustice, those broken, the Ahmaud Arberys and the Breonna Taylors, and the Atatiana Jeffersons and so many others who have become statistics and not people who are bent over in our society. Jesus healed her because He saw her. Not because she asked, not because she “deserved” it more than any others, but because He saw her. Can we do less than to see those around us. In part because we hope someone will see us when we are bent over.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Like those who hope we will see a world bent over, in need of healing. I missed Dr. Hayhoe’s lecture, but I heard Bill McKibben speak about an issue that he has spent most of his life trying to get people to see. The earth is bent over, he argues, has been for years. And, he claims, everyone knows it. Even those most at fault, the oil companies and fossil fuel companies, who have known for years the impact of their industy on the planet. They’ve made some changes in what they do, not to halt the devastation or to lessen their impact, but to ensure that they can keep making money. One example, they raised the level of their oil drilling platforms off-shore to account for the rising sea levels that they predicted decades ago. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Frankly it was hard to listen to Bill. You could hear the despair in his voice, the fear that we will continue not to see, to want to sustain our lifestyle to such an extent that the world we give to our children and grandchildren will not be able to sustain life. Will we see? That’s the question that Bill McKibben is asking us. Will we see what’s bent over around us?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bishop Willimon talked with Karoline Lewis, who is the host of the event from Luther Seminary in Minneapolis. The subject was preaching in this difficult moment. And let me sum up the Bishop’s advice, listen to God. He says we need to turn back to the Word and hear what God has been saying to God’s people about who is in charge and who isn’t. Sometimes it isn’t our innovation that is called for but our confession and our surrender. Then maybe we can stop thinking we’re in charge, and let God direct our eyes to see who is bent over.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ashley Cleveland echoed that with two of my favorites from her repertoire, God Don’t Never Change, and Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning. May we indeed! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shalom,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Derek</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
#Homiletics2020</div>
Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-28902141932668205012020-05-17T14:21:00.004-07:002020-05-17T14:25:25.075-07:00Disappointed by Hope<div style="text-align: justify;">
I’ve written about my favorite week of the year in this space before. No, not family vacation or holidays of any sort. It is not the usual kinds of weeks that many of us look forward to. No, this one is strictly mine. Well, mine and almost two thousand others. It is the week of the Festival of Homiletics. A week full of preachers preaching and preaching teachers talking about preaching and sometimes teachers preaching and preachers teaching, with some music and liturgy thrown in just for good measure. It is as close to heaven as a preaching geek like me could ever hope for. I found it almost 20 years ago and have been going faithfully every year since. I even had to miss a birthday or two along the way, since it always falls around Maddie’s birthday. Which was Saturday, by the way, May 16th, she turned 25 this year. Not quite sure how that happened. Soon she’ll be older than me. Somehow. Anyway, the Festival falls between Maddie’s birthday and my anniversary. Well, our anniversary, since I am pretty sure La Donna was there too. Which is next Sunday, May 24th. Forty years this year, wow. Not quite sure how that happened either. Soon our marriage will be older than I am. Somehow. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was all signed up, paid my fee, was supposed to be in Atlanta right now waiting for the event to start. But no, here I am, sitting at home, here in Nashville. Oh, sure, like so many other things, they aren’t canceling the Festival, it is just going to become virtual. Remember when virtual used to mean almost? Well, it sort of kinda does still. I know it means online these days. But it also kinda feels like almost. We’re almost going to have a Festival this year. Almost. I’ll hear some of the preachers, and I’ll be a part of the worship, from a distance. Almost. But because I’m here, in my virtual office, I’ll also have work things to do. Zoom calls and projects to complete, a podcast to record and a virtual meeting about a preaching teaching series I’m going to do. So it won’t be the same. I will get access, because I was already registered and paid, to the recorded sessions of the Festival, so even though I’ll have to miss some of it, I won’t miss any of it, almost. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But it won’t be the same. You see, while the heart and soul of the Festival for me has always been the words spoken, proclaimed really, and the opportunity to hear from some of the most incredible preachers in the mainline tradition and variety of cultures and approaches, all of which will be captured as best as possible through the virtual medium employed; that has never been the whole story. Or indeed what it is that brings me back year after year. There was something deeper, more profound going on in me and those who gathered year after year. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ministry is hard. I won’t say harder than other jobs, because every job has struggles and difficulties along the way. But one of the things that makes ministry and preaching in particular difficult is that you often are told in a variety of ways that you are wasting your time. And worse, wasting their time, those who come to listen. That’s often why preachers want to come up with simple tips on how to live a good life. Do these three things, follow those five rules, observe these 7 traits and you’ll be right with God. You’ll be assured of your salvation. You’ll have your ticket to heaven, or a better life, or all the answers. If we just read the Bible right, we preachers think, we can decode the tips, the steps, the elements of the life that Jesus led. And by golly, we find them. And they work. Until they don’t. Until we find the next set of things. The next tips on living. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We do this, we tell ourselves, because it is what the people want. All the popular preachers do it. They make life, they make faith, they make following Jesus sound so easy. And fun! So, we all look for the five fun things that we can give to the people on a fill-in-the-blank bulletin insert and feel like we’ve done our job. Except that even while we do it, week after week, we have this nagging suspicion that it isn’t working. It isn’t what we’re supposed to do. It isn’t what is going to give people life. And we don’t know what to do. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then sometimes, we are beaten down. Directly or indirectly, told by churches that we aren’t doing our job, we aren’t making them happy, we aren’t leading them in the directions they want to go. We’re told we’re failing because we haven’t found the magic program or worship style or seat cushions that will make our church grow like the mega-church on the edge of town. And we begin to investigate other career opportunities. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was in one of those moments that I found the Festival. Those “beaten down, what are you doing with your life” moments. And I went, not expecting much, except for the chance to be away and not feel too guilty about being gone. What I found, however, was a reminder that the Word matters. It matters in the world because it gives us a sense of the presence of God. The Word, which at one time, put on flesh and walked around among us, with skin on, and eyes to see and spit that made mud and tears that flowed and hands that held and a mouth that spoke. It spoke, that Word on two legs. It spoke and it told stories and it called followers and it made riddles and shared history and it challenged and threatened and comforted and loved, but it never once explained everything. Even when the gospel writers said the Word with a mouth explained everything, to the followers, if you listen carefully you’ll realize nothing was explained. There is no road map, no virtual GPS that will get you through the tough times. There are no three steps or five or seven steps to an easy life, in fact the Word that talked said if your life is easy you’re doing it wrong. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On Great Performances this past week, PBS broadcast the 2019 Ravinia Festival’s production of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass. It was originally written for the opening of the Kennedy Center in Washington DC in 1971. It was controversial then and still is today. Some love it, and some hate it. I’ve always loved it. It is about faith and about doubt and about how they live side by side in an uneasy relationship. It doesn’t provide answers, it barely offers hope. Bernstein, of course, was Jewish, but he was writing in honor John F. Kennedy, the only Catholic President in our history. The central figure is a priest and his journey through this show is too complex to outline here. But he too, travels through faith and doubt and hope. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the middle of the opera there is a song titled “The Word of the Lord.” </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<i>"For the Word, / for the Word was at the birth of the beginning, / it made the heavens and the earth and set them spinning. / And for several million years, / it withstood all our quorums and fine ideas. / It’s been rough, / it’s been rough but it appears to be winning.”</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i><br />
<i>"For the Word, / for the Word created mud and got it going. / It filled our empty brains with blood and set it flowing. / And for thousands of regimes, / it endured all our follies and fancy schemes. / It’s been tough, / it’s been tough and yet it seems to be growing. // Oh you people of power, / oh you people of power, your power is now. / You may plan to go forever but you never do somehow. // So you wait in silent treason until reason is restored, / and we wait for the season of the Word of the Lord. We await the season of the Word of the Lord. / We wait, / we wait for the Word of the Lord.”</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This song seems to be a pivot around which the whole show revolves. I’m not a music critic, I may be wrong. But I am a preacher and this seems to be the ground which holds us, even when things get shaky. We don’t have the answers, but we have the hope. We have the faith. We have confidence in the Word, even when we don’t understand it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Romans 5:1-5</b> Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am disappointed that I won’t be going to the Festival this year. But I know it is the right thing. And I have hope that the Word still matters. Even during a pandemic. Maybe especially so. I’ll share whatever insights I glean from the almost Festival this year, so watch for that. In the meantime, I am not disappointed by hope, while I wait for the Word of the Lord.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shalom, </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Derek</div>
Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-88862733377616663122020-05-10T10:05:00.005-07:002020-05-10T10:06:26.613-07:00Latest Last Chance<div style="text-align: justify;">
Online shopping has been convenient, and necessary during these days of the pandemic. I also enjoy online looking and not buying, just to see what is out there. The problem with all that looking is that you get on the email lists, even from the ones you don’t give out your email! Not only that, but you look at something online once and then your browser ads are full of that same item immediately. How do they do that? No, wait, I don’t think I want to know.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The problem with being on everyone’s email list is that you get flooded with requests, requests? No more like demands, to buy. More and more, the same stuff that you already bought, or the companion pieces. Like Amazon’s helpful little “purchasers of this usually also got that!” line. Oh, really, you think? Then maybe I ought to have that too. Maybe. But probably not. Or as my wife would say, definitely not. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The one that really has been getting under my skin lately though are the ones that declare “Last Chance!” Last chance to save a lot of money, for example, but only by spending a lot more money. Last chance to get this unique item that we only have a few million of. Last chance before the price goes up. Last chance before everyone has one and we’re on to the next thing that you’ll get a last chance to purchase. I’ve got a couple of them that send me a last chance on an almost daily basis. It’s wearing me out.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You can’t help when you’re inundated with last chances to hear something ultimate in that. Something apocalyptic even. Last chance. It’s all over. It’s the end. Our minds go there, don’t they? Too often really. We are obsessed, as a culture, with the end. How many post-apocalyptic movies have we seen in our lifetime? How many dystopian novels have we read? Is this really our last chance? Is this the end of all that we know? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You’ve seen, no doubt, the conspiracy theories running rampant in some branches of the Christian community. Conspiracy and end times pronouncements are getting a lot of play, going viral in this time of fears of the virus. I’ve never really understood the fascination. Or the fear-mongering. There are some interesting psychological analyses that I’ve read recently as to why people get caught up in conspiracy theories and end time prognostications. You can look it up yourselves, if you’re really interested. But the one bit of information that I gleaned from that research is that argument won’t fix it. You can’t reason someone out of a conspiracy theory. You can’t give them enough information that will change their minds. So, don’t bother.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, what do we do? How do we refute them, or avoid them, or ignore them? You can’t really. I wish you could. Just like opting out of email lists doesn’t guarantee you won’t get email telling you this is your last chance anymore. Believe me, I’ve tried. But then why? Why can’t we avoid them, the end time pronouncements? Because Jesus did it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Matthew 24:32-44</b> "From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 33 So also, when you see all these things, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 34 Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 35 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. 36 "But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 37 For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 38 For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, 39 and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. 40 Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. 41 Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. 42 Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 43 But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sometimes I wonder why Jesus said things like this. Surely He knew that His followers would just go nutzo with this kind of thing. Surely He knew that it would cause dissension and division and distraction by parts of the church to come. Surely. Yet, He did it, and kept doing it. This is only one of the times when Jesus spoke like this. What exactly did He want us to do with this information? Be afraid? Spend our lives looking over our shoulder? Certainly not share it with an air of superiority or condemnation to the world around us? Yet, that’s what many people do. Are doing. Blaming. Pointing fingers. Getting angry.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I think there are mainly two reasons why this kind of thing was shared by our Lord. And both of them are about keeping us humble. The first reason is to remind us that we don’t know everything. Or to put it another way, we aren’t in control. It has always astounded me that here we have Jesus, the founder of our faith, the incarnate God walking among us, saying “I don’t know when this is going to happen” and there have been people and are people saying “I know!” It just seems to me that saying you know more than Jesus is the highest form of arrogance. To claim that you’ve been given knowledge that Jesus didn’t even get is a heresy that we should avoid. Jesus says, I don’t know and implies that you don’t need to know. So, quit trying to figure it out.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But then, He does say keep watch. Isn’t that a call to figure it out? No, I don’t think so. I think it is a call to pay attention. Pay attention to the world around you and the work before you. Pay attention to whether what you are doing is Kingdom work or selfish work. Pay attention to the opportunities you have to let God’s grace flow through you, so that a little bit of the Kin-dom (<i>I love that phrase that we’re using. Kingdom values imply the inter-relationship of all creation, we are longing for a Kin-dom</i>) can shine through you.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I always loved the story, whether it really happened or not, of a conversation St. Francis of Assisi had one day as he was hoeing his beans. A pilgrim came upon the saint in the garden and called out to him. “Francis,” he said, “what would you do if you realized this was your last day on earth?” Francis paused a moment and wiped his brow. Then he picked up his hoe and went back to work. “I would continue hoeing this row of beans,” he said over his shoulder.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don’t think this is really our last chance. Last chance as a nation, as a stable economy, as the people we are becoming. But even if it is, maybe we ought to just keep hoeing our beans. What Jesus was asking us to do, I think, was to stop worrying about the end, it’s not in our hands anyway, and we can trust the One in whose hands it resides. But to keep hoeing our beans trusting that what we do matters. And if it doesn’t matter, don’t do it. Do what we can, as we can and walk with God in all that we do. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just keep hoeing your beans. To the glory of God.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shalom, </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Derek</div>
Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-64835463360599416572020-04-19T13:28:00.003-07:002020-04-19T13:28:51.727-07:00That They Might Have Lifestyle<div style="text-align: justify;">
How is everyone? Seriously. I’m wondering. If you want to comment here, or email me. Remember if you are one of those who receives this by email, if you hit reply it goes to everyone. Which might not be a bad thing. Unless everyone responds and some folks feel overwhelmed by the emails. But I really want to know. I promise to check the blog for comments, I promise to respond to your email. I just want to know how you’re doing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We watched the “One World: Together At Home” concert event last night. We heard amazing stories, terrifying and wonderful stories. There were moments of tears and worry, alongside those of hope and amazement at the compassion of people. We know many folks in the medical profession and are worried about them. But then we also know folks in the food industry of all kinds (grocery, restaurants, farms), and those who deliver packages and mail, child-care workers, and service workers of all kinds. We know those who are suffering and those who are worried about the future, we know those who are safe and doing their best to follow the rules (anyone else tired of washing hands so much?). We know of those who have contracted the virus, those who have succumbed to it, and those whose lives will never be the same because of it. And we are concerned, but hopeful. We have faith. Faith in the goodness of people. Faith in the strength of our humanity. Faith in decision-makers and leaders, scientists and researchers who are working for the good of all and not just for some. Most of all we have faith in God. God is with us. God’s body the church is with us even when the doors are closed. The church was never a building anyway, we just got confused at times. We love our buildings, but they aren’t the church. If there is one thing this time is reminding us, confirming in us it is that the church is more than a building.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We are the church. You are the church. Claim it and live it in whatever ways you can right now. And remember, as I and too many others have said, we do what we not just to keep ourselves safe, but for the safety of others. We do this because we were taught to love by the One who loves us unto death and rose from the grave out of love for us. So, how can we do otherwise? How can we not love one another as He loved us?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It’s easy to be frustrated. It is easy to think that this is all an overreaction. That, sure, a few might get sick and a few might even die from this, but the risks we take by this shut down are worse. We are, some have said, killing our lifestyle to save a few lives. The protests to open up the economy are making that argument. We want to save our lifestyle. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No one appreciates our lifestyle more than I do. I like the stuff I have, I like the freedom that I have to just go and get something that I want, whether I really need it or not. I like having enough money in the bank so that I won’t worry about the future when I retire. I like the benefits and the privileges I have here. I really do. But, who am I willing to sacrifice in order to keep it? Because that’s the culmination of the argument being made. Some lives are worth sacrificing in order to keep our lifestyle. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Wait, some will say, we make sacrifices all the time. Someone, a “Doctor” with only one name, went on TV and pointed out that we don’t shut the country down because of the car fatalities, or the cigarette fatalities. He’s right, we don’t. But then as far as I know car accidents aren’t communicable. You can’t spread them by breathing. On the other hand, we have shut down certain facilities to smoking, and there were those who complained saying we were going to ruin the economy by declaring no smoking zones. But we decided that life was more important than lifestyle. So, we lost the smoke filled rooms, good riddance. We adapted, we adjusted. There’s a pub in our neighborhood that everyone was worried about, said it was a shame that it had to close. But now they are so busy we couldn’t place an order for take out. We adapt, we adjust. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because we believe life is more important than lifestyle. Someone taught us that. Here’s another of my favorite passages: John 10.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>John 10:9-16</b> I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. 11 "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away-- and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. 13 The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. 14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“I have come that they might have lifestyle,” no, wait, that’s not it. Oh, I know He says “abundant life.” And our image of abundant life is all the stuff we could want. But I don’t think that’s what He meant. I think He was offering us a life that meant something, to us and to everyone else. A life that was rich in love, that was spent in service not because it was what we were supposed to do, but because we couldn’t help it. Helping, serving, loving, caring just flows out of our heart like streams of living water. It isn’t what we do it is what we are. We are the ones who believe that life matters. Life, not lifestyle. We believe that all life matters.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“I have sheep that do not belong to this fold.” You’ve noticed that, haven’t you? Yeah, He meant the Baptists down the road. He meant the Lutherans and Presbyterians, He meant all those who are just like us with a different label. Right? Maybe. But I don’t think so. I think He meant the ones we would least expect. The ones living in a care facility where a stray virus can run through like a tsunami. The ones struggling to breathe, carrying around oxygen in a tank, hooked up to tubes to bring air. He meant the ones who can’t shelter at home because they don’t have a home. He meant the ones who are crowded into inadequate housing, gathered into home unequipped to care for them, to feed them, to love them, or keep them safe. He meant the ones dumped into refugee camps and prisons and ships at sea. He meant the ones have suddenly become “essential” and yet still don’t make enough money to feed their children. He meant the ones across the globe who look to us to set an example of what it means to love our neighbor as ourselves. Those are the sheep of other folds. Sheep we may never see, may never love in person, and yet by choosing to do all we can, all we can including sacrificing some of our lifestyle, in order to love we bear witness that life is more precious than lifestyle. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are supposed shepherds who are running away because the wolf is at the door. Let’s admit it. So, let’s look to another shepherd. One who invites us to value life. Not just our lives, but life. (I wonder how many of those protesters at various statehouses also call themselves “pro-life”) I love too many people who are vulnerable to say we’re ready to go back to our lifestyle as we knew it. In fact, I would venture to say we will never go back. But we will go forward and live differently because of what we have learned and how we value life. We go forward and maybe even begin to understand what abundant life really means. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And maybe that’s what we’re learning right now. Thanks be to God. And really, how are you?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shalom, </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Derek</div>
Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438182880979307335.post-49488485439076465562020-04-11T14:23:00.007-07:002020-04-11T14:23:58.038-07:00Living in Saturday<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>John 19:39-42</b> Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. 40 They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. 41 Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. 42 And so, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation, and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Luke 23:50-56</b> Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, 51 had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. 52 This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. 53 Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. 54 It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was beginning. 55 The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. 56 Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments. On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Mark 15:43-47</b> Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. 44 Then Pilate wondered if he were already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him whether he had been dead for some time. 45 When he learned from the centurion that he was dead, he granted the body to Joseph. 46 Then Joseph bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock. He then rolled a stone against the door of the tomb. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where the body was laid.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Matthew 27:62-65</b> The next day, that is, after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate 63 and said, "Sir, we remember what that impostor said while he was still alive, 'After three days I will rise again.' 64 Therefore command the tomb to be made secure until the third day; otherwise his disciples may go and steal him away, and tell the people, 'He has been raised from the dead,' and the last deception would be worse than the first." 65 Pilate said to them, "You have a guard of soldiers; go, make it as secure as you can."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Twice in during this odd kind of Holy Week I heard a preacher say that because of the quarantine, because of the pandemic, we are Easter people living in a Good Friday world. That we usually are people able to embrace the possibilities of life and thus it is easier to proclaim hope and joy to the world and ourselves on a daily basis. But now, the shadow of death hangs over us like never before. We hide in the darkness of our homes, afraid of normal human contact because of what might overcome us or those we love, or the vulnerable among us. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I understand their point, and might have made one like it myself had I been still attempting to preach to a scattered congregation through technological means. I agree that this shadow darkens our existence in such a profound way that we are not even fully aware of it until we find ourselves staring into space, or with an ache in our hearts that we can’t really explain even to ourselves. The symptoms of depression seem all too evident around us and within us. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Maybe it is because of my new role, one that makes me an observer, a participant in worship rather than a proclaimer, but that didn’t ring quite true even as I heard it coming through my television on a livestream feed from my church here in Nashville. True, but not completely true. It wasn’t until much later in the darkness of the night that another metaphor came to mind. I was watching the news before going to bed on Good Friday night. The weather person was warning us about storms to come. Not the next day, but the day after that. Strong storms, bands of storms, three maybe four bands would roll through our area all day that day, starting early in the morning and then continuing throughout the day. The danger, she reported sternly, was that these bands were far enough apart that the temperature could begin to rise in between the fronts. When the temperature rises before a cold front, the air begins to circulate. If it rose enough before dropping in the trough of the front, tornadoes could form. High winds certainly, maybe hail, and lots of rain. Flood level rains. That’s our Easter forecast. Her advice? First decide where in the house we should go when it gets really bad. Second, have the egg hunt on Saturday, it’ll be a nicer day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I was in the parish, I struggled with local traditions in many places. Easter egg hunts are fun and active and a family occasion. I have no problems with egg hunts. Even enjoyed chatting with the Easter bunny in between her hopping around delighting children on a green lawn that sunny day. My problem was a part of me thought we shouldn’t have them until Easter. Not on Palm Sunday, or the Saturday before Palm Sunday, or, and this one was the hardest for me, on Holy Saturday. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I pulled out all the Gospel descriptions of Holy Saturday. There isn’t a lot there. Most of them don’t even mention it. Because it was the Sabbath all the good Jews would have been at home. Not working, not preparing a meal, not planning a funeral, just being at home. So, after they got the body down off the cross and carried it to the tomb late on Friday, as the sun was setting and the Sabbath was rolling in the like the tide, they went home. They washed their hands. They sat down. They said their prayers and they tried to eat the ritual meal that was prepared to welcome the Sabbath. The candles they lit seemed dimmer somehow, as if even that flame couldn’t pierce the gloom that settled in their souls. The prayers they prayed from memory sounded like a language they barely knew. Then they waited. For a long sleepless night and a dim silent day. They looked at the walls of their house as if it had become a prison trapping their hopes inside. They kept their distance from each other, no doubt. Social distance. So that no one would see their pain. Their shame. Their doubt. And they waited. Though if you were to ask them what they were waiting for, they wouldn’t have had a clue. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Matthew says things happened on Saturday. Those Romans didn’t know a Sabbath from a Saturday. And wait, there were Priests and Pharisees there too, breaking the law to make sure that the lawbreaker didn’t have an escape clause worked out with his followers. They were the essential workers of the society. Doing the work that had to be done. Maybe they wore a mask so as not to be infected by the gentiles they spoke to on the Sabbath. Maybe it wasn’t after dark, Matthew just forgot what time it was. Maybe it didn’t matter to them, or to anyone that day. Maybe it didn’t feel like Sabbath to them. Even them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I think we are living in Holy Saturday. It is an in between kind of existence. And even though we know how the story ends, there is still so much uncertainty before us right now. We don’t know when this will end, maybe soon, maybe not. Maybe it will end only to begin again as the virus takes hold when we step out of our tombs, out of our waiting to greet the Risen Son. And what will be like when it ends. We keep saying “when things get back to normal.” But do we know what normal is any more? Will normal feel normal, or will there be a new normal? When my neighbor coughs will I flinch? When your co-worker sneezes will you say bless you or rush to spay down the tables and chairs? What will community be after this?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We don’t know. And maybe we’re afraid. Afraid of the fallout, the collapse of the economy, which was much more precarious than we realized. Afraid of the other, not just those across the water or across the border, but those across the street, or across the hall. Will we trust again? Will we live again. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Holy Saturday was a quarantine of earth shattering proportions. It was a hinge day around which all of creation swung. When the world started over the next day, there was fear and great joy. And a proclamation. He is going before you. When we reenter the world after this Holy Saturday time, we can be assured He will be going before us. Thanks be to God.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shalom,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Derek</div>
Derek Weberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14658449391162716207noreply@blogger.com0