Dancing on Stony Ground

I’m a little later than usual getting to this task. Partly because I am not preaching this weekend. It is the first sermon from our new Associate Pastor, Chris Millay, so join me in holding him in prayer. I’m sure it will be a great experience for the whole Aldersgate Community.

But the real reason why I am late is that Maddie had a dance exhibition today. I almost said contest, but it isn’t that. I don’t think. Her dance studio is putting on this exhibition as a part of the Three Rivers Festival. It is being held in the Grand Wayne Center downtown. Maddie danced a rumba with her instructor Charles. Charles is rather tall, and Maddie is ... not. I remember when she first started there, Charles told her to look over his shoulder while they were dancing. She can hardly see his shoulder, let alone look over it. But they have managed.

More than managed, they were great. If I do say so myself. She was graceful and confident and accomplished. I was blown away to say the least. She and her mother stayed to watch more of the dancers while I ran home to get to work on this bible study. Still beaming at her performance.

They danced to “I Will Follow Him” which was recorded by Little Peggy March in 1963, and then made popular again by the Whoopi Goldberg movie “Sister Act” back in 1992, where the song was turned into a quasi-religious anthem sung by the nuns at St. Katherine’s Convent in San Francisco. I didn’t realize it was a rumba. But then since I’m not clear what a rumba is, I’ll just go with it. I can follow them too.

It was an appropriate song for the dance. Maddie just followed Charles, and sometimes, I think Charles was following Maddie. And sometimes I wasn’t sure who was following whom. But then I didn’t have to know. I just watched them dance. And was suitably impressed. We had noticed that some of the other women had some trouble with the floor that the Grand Wayne had laid for this event. It must have been slick in places, or uneven. There were stumbles and bobbles aplenty. Except for Maddie. Ahem. Sorry had to toss that in. She was as sure footed as a gazelle, across the uneven and treacherous ground.

The same kind of ground that Jacob was dancing across in our passage for this week. Wait, you are thinking quickly after such a clumsy segue way. Jacob? Dancing? Dreaming perhaps, but not dancing, surely. Well, maybe not literally, but still ... Take a look.

Genesis 28:10-19a Jacob left Beer-sheba and went toward Haran. 11 He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. 12 And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. 13 And the LORD stood beside him and said, "I am the LORD, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring; 14 and your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south; and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring. 15 Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you." 16 Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, "Surely the LORD is in this place-- and I did not know it!" 17 And he was afraid, and said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." 18 So Jacob rose early in the morning, and he took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up for a pillar and poured oil on the top of it. 19 He called that place Bethel;

What you need to know, or to remember, is that Jacob isn’t out for a little stroll one day. He is running for his life. He cheated his brother, conspired with his mother against his father, and now is on his way to hide out with some distant relatives, who he hopes haven’t been reading his brother Esau’s Facebook posts.

So, he runs as far as his legs will take him and then he drops in exhaustion. And given that he wasn’t really prepared for this journey, he grabs a stone for a pillow and falls asleep. And while he sleeps, he dreams. Understandable really, must be that crick in the neck he is getting from sleeping on a rock. Anyway, the dream is quite a production. One of those you don’t want to wake up from. And if you do open your eyes to the reality you are living in, you shut them quickly and hope to drift back to the landscape you were just dreaming instead of the one out your window. That’s the kind of dream it was.

A ladder, or staircase or ramp - the Hebrew here is a bit fuzzy. And we aren’t clear whether God stands with Jacob at the top of the ladder or at the bottom. But the words come through loud and clear. “You are blessed, Jacob.” And more than that, “you are not alone.”

What a message to hear when you are running for your life. What a note to receive when you are sleeping with a stone for your pillow. You would think, and I’ll be he expected to hear the voice say “shame on you, Jacob, for being such a trickster, for being so self-centered mama’s boy. You are in big trouble now.” And maybe that’s what he should have heard. But he didn’t. He heard a different message. He heard an invitation. He heard a reminder of family, of connection.

The rabbis pointed out that before he goes to sleep, Jacob took stones, plural. Our translation says one of the stones, but that’s to help it make sense to us. It really says he took stones for a pillow. So, he was sleeping on a pile of rocks. But after the dream there is one stone under his head. So, they taught, it is the sign of the Spirit that what was many has been bound into one. The scattered pieces of Jacob’s soul have been stitched into a whole again, because of the presence and the protection of the Spirit of God. The broken dreams of a troubled man are given new hope and new life because of that visitation at night while he slept what must have been a troubled sleep.

I would like to say that everything went better for Jacob from that night on. That his act of worship transformed him into a new man. But it wouldn’t be true to the story. He still had a lot to learn, he still tried to dance his way through life and relationships, and frequently found himself on uneven and stony ground.

But he was never alone. The promise was that he would have a dancing partner, no matter what. No matter how uneven the floor, not matter how stony the path. That’s our promise too. A dancing partner across the stony ground of our lives. What better news could there be?

Now, maybe we should try a rumba. “I will follow Him, wherever he may go. There isn’t an ocean too deep, a mountain so high it can keep me away. I must follow Him, ever since he touched my hand I knew. That near him I must always be. And nothing can keep Him from me. He is my destiny. I will follow Him.”

Watch your step there. Everybody dance.

Shalom,
Derek

Messy Business

So, last Sunday morning I woke at 5 am wondering where my shoes were. I could have worn my tennis shoes with my suit and robe, I guess, but I think it would have drawn more attention than it deserved. Luckily, my sleepy wife knew exactly where they were.

The past week has been a constant series of “where is my ...” sort of conversations. Alongside the “where are we going to put ...” questions. Not to mention the “why did we keep all of these” complaints. Moving is an adventure in the best sense of the word, and a messy business in the worst. Or maybe that should be the other way around. I’m not sure. I just look around me and see the rubble of too much stuff, and the disorganization of not knowing what would be needed where. We’d love to invite you over, but we don’t want you to see the mess.

You know how that is, don’t you? “You should have told me you were coming,” we’ll say to a surprise guest, “I could have cleared a path!” We try to make light of it, but deep down we are bothered by the debris of our lives. We wish that everything, every bit of stuff, every emotion, every thought, every mistake or good deed had a place. We’d like things on the shelf, put away, tucked out of sight, so that we can present our lives as an ordered whole. This is me, we could declare. A place for everything and everything in its place.

At least we dream about that. And on some levels we can accomplish it. But life for most of us is a messy business. Which is why we resonate with and are disturbed by our parable for this week. It is a familiar one. And a favorite of some. An easy one, some think. Straightforward. And yet there is something niggling at the back of our minds and souls about it. At least in mine, anyway. Take a look:

Matthew 13:1-9 That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. 2 Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. 3 And he told them many things in parables, saying: "Listen! A sower went out to sow. 4 And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. 5 Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. 6 But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. 7 Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. 8 Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. 9 Let anyone with ears listen!"

Ah, the parable of the sower. Or the parable of the seeds. Or the soils. Hmmm, what is this thing about anyway? It is one of the few parables that includes an explanation. A few verses later (after this interlude where Jesus says “I tell parables just to confuse people.” Huh? That’s for another day) Jesus says “Hear then the parable of the sower,” and then he proceeds to explain it.

Except if you look at it (verses 18-23) he doesn’t really explain. He just describes. And he calls it the parable of the sower but then never mentions the sower. So, I think he just messing with us, like he was messing with the disciples who begged an explanation from him. He didn’t tell everybody what it meant, just the few who stood scratching their heads and followed him like a little puppy that hopes its going to get something special if it begs long enough.

But I didn’t add in the explanation this time. I just wanted to let the parable itself speak to us before we just to interpretation. Just live in the story for a moment. Read it again and tell me what comes to mind first. I’ll wait.

Messy. That’s what comes to mind. Or it would if you were a farmer or a gardener. I know you gotta get your hands dirty if you are going to work in agriculture. But this seems beyond the pale. I know, I know, I’ve read all the back in that day reflections that talk about farming practices in the first century. But still, it seems wasteful. Doesn’t it. Just tossing seeds here and there. And three-fourths of them won’t amount to anything of value.

Surely we can do better than that. That’s what we want from our parables anyway, isn’t it? To figure out ways of being better. So, we’ve turned this one into a recovery project for bad soil. We all want to be good soil, don’t we? We’ll stop being distracted and shallow and hard hearted and then you too can produce good fruit. Right? A soil reclamation project, that’s what we need in the church.

Well, maybe. Certainly paying more attention, and trying to get deeper into our faith and opening those hearts is a good thing. So, it isn’t a bad interpretation to turn this into a “lessons for living” approach. That would be a good use of the words that here. Certainly.

Except that it seems to missing something. Something messy. Maybe this parable isn’t about being a better person in three easy steps. Maybe it isn’t about neatening up your life the parabolic way. Maybe like all of Jesus parables it is giving us a gift. It is revealing a secret. And it isn’t so much a secret about us, but a secret about God. And that secret, in this case, is that God is messy.

God doesn’t seem to care that some are hard-hearted or distracted. God isn’t bothered by those who seem to be living an inch deep. At least when it comes to sending the blessings, letting the sun rise or the rain fall. It just pours out. It is scattered willy-nilly. It is just ... there. Everywhere.

That’s the secret of the thirteenth chapter of Matthew. Jesus tells a series of parables about the Kingdom of God. And the common threat is that it is just there. It is just here. Everywhere. In the least expected places. Making a mess of everything. Oh, it isn’t fully realized yet. But it is there, in potential. It is a seed ready to burst forth into some spectacular plant, flower or tree, who knows? It is yeast, ready to bubble up giving texture and flavor to the bread or cake or who knows what. It is a treasure hidden in a field, it is a pearl you gotta hunt for, it is a net hidden underwater but catching all sorts of unexpected fish. It is there, just there, waiting. For you, perhaps. Or for that guy, you know the one who makes you uncomfortable every time you are in a room with him. Or for that woman, the one who looks like she wouldn’t know what to do with it if it fell in her lap.

God’s kingdom spills out everywhere, on everyone. And it bothers us, to be honest. We’re pretty sure we could do a better job of keeping the Kingdom for those worthy. Those like us. The good soil. And let’s face it, we are good soil. It sounds like bragging, but we are. We are doing our best. We are following the rules, we are keeping our noses clean. We want to do our best to be the kind of dirt that Jesus can use. Right?

Except that at our best we couldn’t do what is needed here. We couldn’t be the good soil that Jesus describes here. Farmers at the time would say at best you could reap seven fold. Seven times what you plant. That’s pretty good farming! But Jesus says the good soil produces a hundred fold, or sixty or thirty. That is way beyond us. If this parable is really about us pulling up our big boy pants and doing our best, then we are in big trouble. But if it is about the messy business of God, then we can clap our hands with joy as the Kingdom continues to spill out all over the place.

Now, back to the mess of moving.

Shalom,
Derek

Sabbath

We’re here. In the new house, I mean. After two days of hard labor. Well, OK, after weeks of hard labor and two days of insanely hard labor, we have relocated. Change your address books once again. The Weber’s are no longer on Candlewick Drive. We have moved about 5 miles and world away. Our new address will be printed in the bulletin next Sunday at Aldersgate, or you can get it from us directly. (Sorry for not posting it here, but can’t be too careful these days. Give me a call (our home phone number stayed the same) and I’ll let you know what it is, as soon as you fill out these here forms in triplicate – no sorry, just kidding there.)

Anyway, we are all here. Two tired and a little bit grumpy teenagers, two loud and nearly crazy terriers, one extremely surly cat and a kitten who’s just in it for the adventure. Plus two adults who are older than we thought we were when we started this process. What’s old cliche? I’ve places that are sore that I didn’t know were places. Or something like that. It doesn’t sound right, but I’m not in the mood to look it up right now.

Oh there is still a lot to do. We still can’t get the cars in the garage. Every room is a virtual obstacle course getting around the boxes and unassembled furniture. We don’t where things are going to go, but we know it isn’t going to stay the way it is for very long. Count on it!

Of course the only reason we are as far along as we are is because of the many friends and relatives who came to help us out. Special thanks have to go to Greg Childs who came and helped both days, and was a whiz at packing the truck. Dr. Ron Scheeringa, who came from rounds with an open bed trailer and took two loads of bulky outdoor/garage stuff to the new house. Rhys’ two school friends, Aaron and Chris who hefted boxes like they were lifting weights in the gym. Maddie’s friend Maddy (and don’t think that wasn’t confusing) who worked as hard as any of the boys. Then my brother and his wife showed up from South Bend and Hank is simply non-stop energy and strength, and Carlene managed to find ways to pack stuff we didn’t think could be packed.

On Friday, Bob Kent and Nancy Shantz came with pick-up trucks and loaded in stuff so fast that I hardly could keep track of them. Roberta Watson came and helped unload clothes and stuff off the U-Haul, though I did resist her suggestion of driving it on the lawn to get it closer to the door. Derek Gulley showed up to help us get some of the final rearranging done here at the new house. He and Rhys were tossing couches around like they were styrofoam. (Oddly enough, the movers who were hired for the big stuff (Hoover the Movers - cute, eh?) had a Derek on the team too. So for a while yesterday afternoon we had three Derek’s in the house!)

Of course the toting and carrying wasn’t the whole story of the help provided. Amy Smith arrived early Friday morning with a wonderful breakfast, Suzi Lundergan brought a delicious dinner with precise heating instructions that even bleary-eyed workers could figure out. And lunch was delivered while I was at the other house, but I believe it was Aldersgate’s UMW at work again, with enough to feed the movers and the workers and a couple of folks who just wandered by. Many others provided drinks to keep us hydrated on hot and sweaty days. And Heather Bleeke dropped in with flowers and candy, Lisa Floyd brought some needed groceries and Dee Gulley brought joy and moral support. It was a real community couple of days.

But now I’m beat. And can hardly think straight. And need to come up with a sermon for this fourth of July weekend. And I’m a little worried about it. Then I read the scripture I chose a month or so ago. And not for the first time, I wondered Who is really in charge here?

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 "But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, 17 'We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.' 18 For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, 'He has a demon'; 19 the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, 'Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!' Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds." ... At that time Jesus said, "I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. 28 "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Rest. That’s what sounds wonderful right now. Not just sleep, though that would be good too. New house, new sounds, things forgotten and undone in all the mess (sorry Covington Commons), aches and pains that make it hard to relax completely. No, sleep would be a good thing.

But I have never thought that Jesus was inviting us to come and take a nap on His couch. As great as that would be, I don’t think that is the offer. “Come unto me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” There’s more to it than pulling a comforter over your head and dozing off. Especially since the next line is “Take my yoke.”

Wait a minute. That’s rest? Being yoked to something, or someone? That sounds like work. Sounds like labor. Well, it is. Jesus wasn’t offering us time off for good behavior. This isn’t like earning enough vacation time by working really hard and then getting a few extra days because we’ve earned them. When it comes to Jesus, you’d better lay off the earning language. Or you might be on the wrong end of that scale.

The offer has to be for something else than a good night’s sleep. It must have something to do with working alongside of or guided by Jesus. But working. Moving. Being. All that stuff, all those action words. It is, yet again, not about checking out, but about diving in. About going deeper. About living. Jesus invites us to restful living. Restful working.

What? Sabbath was never about being lazy. It was always about being centered of God, and the life that God intends for us. It was about obedience. It was about working in the fields of the Lord. Which means what, exactly? Well, I don’t know for sure. But I think John Greenleaf Whittier caught a glimpse of it in the part of a poem that we sing called “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind.” He talked of the Sabbath rest in one verse. But it is the fifth verse that speaks most clearly of what that Sabbath rest might be: Drop thy still dews of quietness / Till all our strivings cease; / Take from our souls the strain and stress, / And let our ordered lives confess / The beauty of Thy peace.

That’s what I really want, the end of strain and stress, the striving after that which never satisfies - never dancing when it is time to dance or mourning when it is time to mourn. Being out of step with where Christ wants us to be. What I want is an easy yoke. Not one that isn’t hard work, but one that fits me and fits the time. One that is right for me. Then I can rest easy, trusting I am where God wants me to be.

And I hope it is here, for a good long while!

Shalom,
Derek

Maintaining the Bond

OK, here’s the deal. We are moving house in less than a week. Which means it is crunch time. Final approach. Down to the brass tacks. Time’s running out. The clock is ticking. Hey, I came prepared with a bucket full of cliches, just for this occasion.

My point here is that there are lots of things I need to be doing today. And this bible study has fallen down the list a bit. Not because it isn’t important. By no means! This is one of the primary ways I have of preparing to preach on a Sunday morning. Even when what comes out on Sunday is very different than what is written here. It is still preparation for that most important of tasks.

Plus I have heard from many of you who appreciate the opportunity to spend a little time reflecting on the bible with me. Not all can come to the bible studies at church, but this mode is a little more accessible, a little more convenient, and it often causes people to stop and think, or so I am told. And that is always a good thing.

So, I’m not saying that my opinion of this task has diminished in anyway. All I’m saying is that since I am not preaching, and since the sword of Damocles is hanging over all our heads here on Candlewick Drive, I need to shorten our reflections a tad and get back to packing.

Of course, I could also use it as an opportunity to invite all of you and all of those you know to come to a loading/moving party next Thursday and/or Friday. But that would be a misuse of the forum. Wouldn’t it? Yes, I think so. Darn.

So, I feel drawn, if not compelled to get to other tasks. I feel I need to do my share of the preparations, to carry my load, to maintain the bond of peace and unity here in my house. Of course, considering I don’t even think the kids are out of bed yet means I do have a couple of minutes to at least show you the passage that will be read in worship tomorrow.

Ephesians 4:1-6, 25 - 5:2 I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2 with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3 making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 4 There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, 5 one Lord, one faith, one baptism, 6 one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. ... So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. 26 Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, 27 and do not make room for the devil. 28 Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. 29 Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. 31 Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, 32 and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. 5:1Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, 2 and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

It was all those ones in the first part of the reading that got me. Paul seems on a unity bend here in Ephesians. Makes you wonder what was going on in the church. Whether they were arguing about service times or the color of the carpet. Something serious that was dividing the church into factions. Or maybe it was theological, what was right, what was acceptable, what were the proper words to say at baptism or communion. Or maybe it was that some weren’t doing their share. Boxes were being packed and stacked and some were sitting at computers staring into space.

Sorry, got a little too praxis there. But you know what I mean. There are so many things that divide us. Sometime it is conflict or disagreement. Other times it is divergent interests or responsibilities or commitments. Or a culture that invites us to think of ourselves first, not what would be good for the whole.

And for some it is that they don’t belong to a whole. Families often live as independent of one another, each doing what is good in their own minds, instead of contributing to a sense of unity. Corporations don’t value loyalty like it seemed they once did. Even nation seems more about individual rights and freedoms than it does about community, about sacrificing for the good of all.

Paul surrounds this talk of unity - and the long list of “one” - by talking about call. Live a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, he says in verse one. And then “just as you were called to the one hope of your calling” there in verse four before he gets back to his litany of one. We tend to think of call as an individual thing, each are called. We discern our call. And that is certainly true. But, Paul points out here that our call is to community, to set ourselves aside long enough to participate with the body in building the kingdom. We are not called just to be special in and of ourselves, but we are called to participate in something bigger than ourselves.

Which is why the second part of the reading, from verse 25 through the first two verses of chapter five (and you do remember that the chapters and verses were added in hundreds of years after the letters were written and are somewhat arbitrary) is all about how we can get along as a community.

Paul knows that living together isn’t easy. Tell me about it. When a moving deadline approaches, it becomes even more evident that living together isn’t easy. And the first six verses aren’t implying that we will all be the same, having the same thoughts and inclinations and ways of operating. No, we are still who we are, we still bring the gifts we have been given to the community. And that is great in that if adds to the vast and diverse tapestry that is the human community called the church. But it is also difficult because we bump up against one another and sometimes get upset by different points of view.

So, to both acknowledge this inevitability and to build in systems and procedures that will help us deal with these difficulties, Paul talks to us about how we go about getting along. He reminds us the lying, even when we think it is safer is a dangerous thing. He reminds us that anger left unchecked causes more damage than we realize, to us and those around us. He says there are no short cuts in the life of the community, just a need for labor and effort on everyone’s part. And then that sniping, the pulling down, that tearing each other up is the very antithesis of what community is about. We are in the business, he reminds us, of building up. Why do we find tearing down so much fun? All that stuff (wrangling, for example, what the heck is that? Oh, wait, I’ve got teenagers. I was a teenager. Never mind. Wrangling. Got it.) All that stuff gets us off the track of trying to be like Christ. Trying to love like he loved. Trying to participate in the community of faith called the church. So, get back to the ones, he says, and remember to what we were called.

Speaking of calling, someone is calling me. There is another box to be taped up. Gotta go.

Shalom,
Derek

What's in a Name?

OK, time to take the “bible study” part of the title seriously for a little while. Most of the time what I do in this space is provide musings about the passage with a little exegesis (that’s fancy seminary talk for doing bible study!) thrown in here and there. Mostly to sneak up on you. Sorry, seen too many eyes glaze over when doing some of this stuff.

But this time I need to be up front about the study part of it all. Set aside for the moment the musings, the contemplations that deal with reactions to the words and images. And the reason I need to do this is because it is Trinity Sunday.

I’ve never been a big fan of Trinity Sunday. One reason is that it causes us to change colors from the dramatic red of Pentecost, back to the white of majesty. White is used at Christmas and at Easter and the seasons that follow, and on Trinity Sunday. It is about authority, about purity, about Lordship. A powerful color, appropriate for these occasions. But we have just gone from a white season - Eastertide, and are teased with red for one Sunday and then it is back to white again. And technically, the tradition is that after trinity Sunday we switch to green for the whole summer - or Ordinary Time as the old calendars had it, Sundays after Pentecost we call it in our tradition today.

So Trinity Sunday bumps the red off the chancel, and I’ve never liked that. (I do sneak some red back in for the early part of Ordinary Time, just to keep the excitement up. Yeah, I’m easily amused.) So, I would usually give Trinity Sunday a passing reference, but not much attention. But I’ve decided to mend my ways and jump into it this year. And I’ve selected the Psalm as the reading for the week. So, here it is. See if you can figure out how this is a Trinity Sunday passage.

Psalm 8:1-9 O LORD, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. 2 Out of the mouths of babes and infants you have founded a bulwark because of your foes, to silence the enemy and the avenger. 3 When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; 4 what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them? 5 Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them with glory and honor. 6 You have given them dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet, 7 all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field, 8 the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, whatever passes along the paths of the seas. 9 O LORD, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

How majestic is your name. That’s the line that stands out. Maybe because the Psalm begins and ends with those same words. How majestic is your name. Sounds wonderful. Can’t read those words without hearing the Michael W. Smith song in your head. “O Lord, Our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth.” It is one of those 7/11 songs that people complain about. “Seven words you repeat eleven times.” You’ve heard that, I’m sure. And yet sometimes it works. Sometimes it is the repetition that carries the meaning. It is only in saying it over and over and over that it makes any sense at all. Like the seraphs flying around the temple in Isaiah 6, and they kept singing “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory.” Over and over they sang those words. And it was in the singing, and in the repetition that it began to make sense.

Or did it. What was that sense, what do these words mean? “How majestic is your name”? Does it mean that God’s name is kinda cool? Well, sort of. But in an Old Testament sense, not in a modern day “hey I like that name Raymundo!” kind of sense.

In the Old Testament, knowing a name was a way of having power. That is why it is so incredible that God would give away the name. That’s why that burning bush is such a singular moment. And the people of God knew that, so they were reluctant to say the name of God. The letters YHWH form the name of God in the Hebrew text. We would pronounce it Yahweh, because our understanding is different. Words are just words, names are just names. So, you’ve heard the name “Yahweh” in some circles. And perhaps rightly so, since God gave us this name to use.

But the early followers didn’t want to abuse the gift, so whenever the text would have those letters, YHWH, then the reader of the text would substitute the word “adonai” for the name. Adonai means Lord, it is a title instead of a name. Adonai was used for human beings at times, to acknowledge a superior. It was an honorific.

So, now when translators heard the word “Adonai” inserted where they saw the letters “YHWH” they substituted the vowels from the first into the consonants for the latter and came up with a new word. “Yahovah” or since they were German translators where the “Y” letter is pronounced like a “J”, the word was Jehovah. We now use that word as a substitute for both the name and title of God. But in fact it doesn’t appear in the original text of the bible anywhere.

OK, fascinating, but what does it have to do with Trinity Sunday or the Psalm for that matter? Well, I’m not sure. Except that it is a bit of a mystery. This name thing, I mean. And how can a name be majestic in all the earth? And does constant repetition of praise bring glory to God’s name? And what aspect or dimension of God are we praising anyway.

The Psalm is about the Creator God. Which we usually understand to be the Father. (Oh, right, Happy Father’s Day, dad. And all other dad like creatures out there.) So, how is this a Trinity Sunday passage. Where are the other dimensions? Or aspects? Or persons? Or whatever you call thems?

“When I look at the heavens, the work of your fingers...” I’m amazed, I’m astounded, I feel small. Not a bad feeling to have every now and then. That in the vastness of this created universe we are but a tiny speck. And yet this isn’t a humbling psalm. It isn’t about our speckness, it is a psalm of amazement that we are anything but speckish. We are a “little lower than God, crowned with glory and honor.” We share in God’s glory, by God’s choice. We are significant because God made us so.

That is the aspect of God we know as Jesus, or the Son. The Redeemer aspect of God is what lifts us up beyond where we might be, could be, perhaps should be. Elsewhere we are told this was done because of love. Because God so loved us, we might know eternity, we might stand in glory.

So, how else could we respond but by saying “O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” Like babes we coo and gurgle to the one who cares for us, or so says the Psalmist. And those coos and gurgles silence those who say there is no God. And those coos and gurgles are what brings majesty to the name of God. It is us, our words, our lives, our power that gives majesty to God’s name. We are bearers of that name. A name that is beyond us, bigger than us, more than we can carry, unless we are strengthened by the God whose majesty we proclaim with our words and deeds and being. Unless the Spirit, the consolation, the comforter and guide is with us.

So, it is us in the end, or is it God in God’s self that brings majesty to the name? Yes!

Shalom,
Derek C. Weber

Violent Wind

What are you looking for this Pentecost Sunday? I know, not much really. Another Sunday, hymns and prayers, people in the pews, maybe an attempt to bring a smile or to boost one’s spirits. It’s another opportunity to give you the little bit of encouragement to face whatever is in store for you in the week to come.

It’s a nice place to be. A good place to be. And if you have to miss, no big deal, we can catch it the next time around. Like a soap opera you stop watching for a while and then come back only to find them in about the same place they were when you left. Not much has happened, same issues, same stories. Just a warm feeling that you did a good thing before getting back to the really important things in your day or your life.

Maybe I’ve undersold it a touch. But our expectations are understandably low. I say “understandably” because we never really see much happen in our worship experiences week by week. And so we have learned to come with everything on our minds but the possibility that we just might encounter God one Sunday morning. We’ve come to fix a problem, or to tweak a lifestyle, or to get a pat on the back or push in the backside to keep us moving on the right track. And any and all of those things just might happen and would be good outcomes for our investment of an hour of our time. But they seem so much less than what might be.

Here’s a story of worship gone awry, at least from a human perspective:

Acts 2:1-21 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. 5 Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs-- in our own languages we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power." 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, "What does this mean?" 13 But others sneered and said, "They are filled with new wine." 14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, "Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o'clock in the morning. 16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: 17 'In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. 18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. 19 And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. 20 The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord's great and glorious day. 21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.'

Pentecost was originally an agricultural festival celebrating the first harvest of the growing season. Later it became a commemoration of the giving of the land of Canaan to the people of Israel, and the even later it morphed into an observance of the giving of the law to Moses on Mount Sinai. All important times of celebration, but nothing to indicate the power that was unleashed in this day. I’m sure it caught the disciples by surprise too. They were used to a low key holiday (not like Yom Kippur or even Rosh Hashana) but instead found themselves in an encounter with God that literally blew them away.

The poet Amos Wilder wrote “Electric Chimes or Ram’s Horns” in response to an advertizement in Reader’s Digest July 1960. The magazine was recommending church attendance, suggesting that good things would come of it. Wilder gleefully agreed, but then proceeded to include a warning. He reminds us, in a creative way, that church is not just about being nice, but about being transformed. It is about being empowered, being cleansed, being commissioned. This isn’t something that we ought to take lightly. We are dealing with nothing less than the Creator of the universe. Can you take that lightly? Is that something that we can yawn through on a sleepy Sunday morning?

Wilder concludes the poem with these final two stanzas:

To draw near is to take your life in your hand.
Going to church is like approaching an open volcano
where the world is molten
and hearts are sifted.
The altar is like a third rail that spatter sparks,
the sanctuary is like the chamber next the atomic oven:
there are invisible rays and you leave your watch outside.

Go, therefore, not to be tranquillized
but to be exorcised.
Follow the pillar of fire and the pillar of cloud
with exultation and abandon,
with fear and trembling,
for the zeal of the Lord of Hosts
whether in the streets or the council chamber,
whether in the school or the sanctuary
waits not on the circumspect
and the flames of love
both bless and consume.

The Day of Pentecost came like the sound of a violent wind, Luke tells us. It was fire, it was power, it was chaos and noise, but it was meaning and it was hope. “Go, therefore,” Wilder writes, “not to be tranquillized but to be exorcised.” To have that which keeps us from being who God created us to be pulled out of us. And then to be filled with the power to be, the power to grow, the power to love like Christ loved.

That’s what Pentecost is all about. Not simply a birthday commemoration, just a marker along the road, a milestone passed. It is a moment of power, an offering of transformation. So, how about it? Ready to come to church on Sunday?

Who knows who you might be once you’ve been wind swept by the Holy Spirit.

Shalom,
Derek

Restoring Kingdoms

Ascension Sunday. Got your banners ready for the parade? Got your cards bought and the presents wrapped? Got the party plans in place and the invitations sent? What do you mean “No”? Come on, it is Ascension Sunday this week. Aren’t you pumped? Aren’t you jazzed? Aren’t you chomping at the bit to get there early so the best seats aren’t taken in Church?

Ahem. That little bit of foolishness is brought to you by the tradition of the disciples who miss the point. I love those guys. If it weren’t for the followers of Jesus back then, it would be our own dumb questions and our glazed looked that would carry the day. But, thanks to these guys, we can look relatively intelligent as we stumble around to figure out just what in the world Jesus is talking about most of the time.

Ascension is one of those moments. It’s a “huh” moment for us at best. A “how about that” or “who’d a thunk it.” Interesting in a pseudo-scientific way – “How’d he do that? Wires and mirrors? Magic elevators? Poof, he’s gone? Interesting in a theological way – He is who he is, who he said he was, who he needs to be. Interesting. But not terribly transformative. It doesn’t really affect our lives in any significant way. It just is something about him, about this Jesus. It is something he did, or is doing, or will do. That’s what matters. Right?

Well, that’s what the disciples thought. Take a look at our reading for this Ascension Sunday:

Acts 1:6-14 So when they had come together, they asked him, "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" 7 He replied, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10 While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. 11 They said, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven." 12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day's journey away. 13 When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying, Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. 14 All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

“Is this when you...” We’re ready to watch the show, they said. Bring it on, Jesus, the exclaimed. Oh, yeah, they still had those best seats in the back of their minds but they knew better than to ask about that again. James and John were still razzed about that every now and then. So, maybe it is implied in the question - “what’s in it for us?” But they don’t ask it. All they want to know is what is he going to do. Sure, he suffered and died like he said he was going to. But surely now it was time to kick butt and take names, wasn’t it. Is this when you will restore the kingdom to Israel? Is this when you bring us back from the margins to the center stage? Is this when you throw off the oppressors and raise us up little guys? Is this the moment when we get to shine? When we get to say “Told ya! Told ya!” When we get to thumb our noses at the Romans, when they go running back across the Mediterranean with their tails between their legs? Huh? Is it? Is it?

Well, no. And frankly, Jesus might have said, that’s exactly why you don’t need to know my timing. Because you are likely to use it for your own purposes instead of for mine. Anyone who has ever spent time trying to figure out the why and the how and the when - especially the when - has had, at best, mixed motives for sharing the information with the world at large. They tend to try to figure out ways to profit from the information. They may have started with the intention of sharing the “good news” of ultimate doom and destruction, but they invariably figure out ways to increase their own power and status and holdings. Which when you think about it is a contradiction of their own message. If they really believed in the end of everything, then wouldn’t they want to get rid of anything of this old and dying world?

Jesus says “It is not for you to know.” And that should be good enough. Especially since he doesn’t end it there. His last words before ascending are not, “it is not for you to know.” His last words are “Get to work.”

OK, not exactly. But my point is just when we are asking what Jesus is going to do and when Jesus is going to do it, he is asking us to get to work. And to get to work doing what he wants us to do more than anything else - living as followers of Him.

You shall be my witnesses, he says. You shall be exhibit A of how this faith thing works. You shall be the prime example of what it means to call yourself Christian. You are the answer to the question “how are we to live in this world?”

We hear this call to be witnesses and think it means that we are to make a nuisance of ourselves, banging on doors and hanging out in street corners with cardboard signs and shouting at passers by. We think we have to figure out how to insert the name of Jesus into every conversation that we have. And so we shy away from the main responsibility that Jesus gives us on his way out of town.

I don’t ever want to say that words aren’t important. And sometimes the only way we have of introducing people to Jesus Christ is by talking about why it is that we believe, or what believing does for us. But there is more to being a witness than telling our story every chance we get.

And what is that more? Living. Living openly and joyfully. Living connected to the community of faith and to the world around us. Living with hospitality and grace. Living higher. Maybe that is what we can claim form Ascension Sunday, a call to higher living.

While the event of Ascension Day is about Christ, claiming the seat at the right hand of God. Proclaiming himself as who he really is. The knock on effect is that we all can live higher because we are all called to live like Christ.

That’s the power that is promised. The power to maintain a higher kind of living. A life that is beyond us on our own. A life that emulates the love of Christ. A life that puts into practice the service of Christ. A life that restores the Kingdom on earth.

Which means, I guess, that Jesus could have answered the disciples’ question “Is this when you restore the Kingdom to Israel?” by saying “well, that’s up to you.” We are called to be in the Kingdom restoration business. Not in terms of power, but in terms of love. That is the life to which we witness.

Shalom,
Derek