Rick's Green Grass

Jamaal the Camel

2012-01-11T07:16:00.000-08:00

Mary and Joseph were on their way to Bethlehem because Joseph was of the house of David, and their main city was Bethlehem. This wasn't just a friendly visit to relatives. They had to go because the Romans were doing a census. (Suddenly a plush Camel appears next to me behind the pulpit.)

The main reason Romans did a census was they wanted to know how many people they could tax. And Mary was just about to give birth to Jesus. About sixty-three years before, the Romans had conquered Israel. It was part of their plan to control all the lands surrounding the Mediterranean Sea.

(Finally, I notice camel.) What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay home. Folks, I'm sorry for the interruption, this is Jamaal, a friend of mine… as you can see he's a camel. Jamaal is a special camel – he was there when Jesus was born. He was kind of helping me out with my sermon, giving me details about that night. But he tells me he's decided he'd rather give the sermon himself. (Camel nods.) All right, we'll do it your way. What do you want to say to these folks tonight? (Camel whispers in my ear.) What? Oh, and Jamaal wants you to know that his name, which is also the Arabic word for camel, means "beauty" (Camel preens for the congregation.)

(Camel whispers in my ear again.) Jamal says the most important thing to know about that holy night is… he was lost. You see, he was just a young camel back then, and he had wandered away from his mom and dad in the caravan. He had seen some particularly appetizing thorn bushes at the top of a ridge, and had munched his way from the top clear down the other side the whole afternoon. By the time he paid attention again, it was getting dark, and he was getting scared. He raced to the top of the ridge, but the caravan with his family was nowhere in sight. He had never traveled alone at night, but he started down the hill hoping desperately to find them.

He had gone a long way and was getting tired, when he came upon a whole flock of sheep and some shepherds. The sheep pretty much ignored him – sheep tend to be cliquish. But the shepherds could see he was just a young camel and was lost. They spoke kindly to him, petted him, and shared a few of their sweet ripe dates with him. They even let him lie down with the sheep to get some rest. The sheep at first were horrified to have a camel sleeping with them – have I mentioned how cliquish sheep are? But after a while, even cliquish sheep get sleepy, and they realized Jamaal was fluffy and warm – so eventually, they cuddled up all around him.

Jamaal was just dozing off when there was a burst of light from overhead. The shepherds fell to their knees and covered their eyes. It was an angel! His mom had told him about angels! And Jamaal knew just what to do... when angels appear, everyone hits the dirt. Jamaal was already on his knees, but you should've seen the shepherds drop! He always thought kneeling when angels appear was just a kind of rule, like always looking both ways before crossing a caravan route. But it wasn't a rule… it was just you couldn't help but drop to your knees when an angel appears because they're both the most beautiful thing you've ever seen… and also the most terrifying.

The Angel seemed to radiate love captured in the light of a thousand blue-white stars, and when Jamaal dared to peek, he saw, on the angel's face, a look of indescribable joy! And the whole night had gone silent… the shepherds shook and hid their faces. And even the sheep, who even in their sleep tend to mutter about how much better their flock is than other flocks – have I mentioned sheep are cliquish? – even the sheep were completely silent for once. Then the angel spoke, and his voice was like deep organs and trumpets and drums and silver flutes, and yet at the same time, it somehow sounded like your best friend laughing and whispering a joyful secret in your ear. Jamaal didn't understand everything the angel was talking about: Something about a baby, and going down into the town, and how much God loved everyone. When he finished, there suddenly appeared thousands and thousands and thousands of other angels singing in million-part harmony about God's glory and love for everyone. It was like all of a sudden every star in the dark desert sky had come down and was exploding right overhead.

When they finished their song, and the last note was sounded, it seemed all that light and music and glory was drawn back up into heaven in a moment, and the night was dark and the silence echoed… and the stars glinted overhead as they had for millions of years. Slowly, the shepherds got to their feet. Finally, one of them said they should do what the angel said to do – go find the baby. So the shepherds started walking toward the town, leaving the sheep… and then they began to run. And Jamaal, who always loved adventures like all camels, got up and began running after them. The sheep stayed put and tried to get back to sleep. You see, in addition to being cliquish, sheep don't care much for adventures. They prefer just to stay home, chat about how much better their flock was than other flocks, and get to bed on time after a good supper.

But the shepherds raced toward the town, with Jamaal in hot pursuit. The sound of the shepherds’ sandals and their labored breathing along with the clatter of Jamaal's hooves echoed off the empty narrow streets of the town. But the strangest thing was, the shepherds were not looking in normal places for human babies like people's houses. Instead, as they ran, they checked each barn and shed and stable. Jamaal thought that was odd. Why would a baby be in the place where people kept their cows and horses and camels?

Exhausted, they finally turned the corner of the last street in the town a little after midnight. At the end of that street, was a small inn, and above the inn but a little to the left there was a star lighting up the night, just hovering there like it had lost its way. To the left of the inn, was the last stable in town, and it was glowing with the light of the star overhead. And the stable was lit from within by the flickering of the small wood fire. Jamaal could smell the usual smells of all the donkeys and cows that people who were staying in the inn owned, but he could also smell on the cold night air the wood smoke and the smell of freshly baking flatbread... there were humans staying in the stable! Listening, Jamaal heard the sound of a woman's voice quietly singing… ♪♫ "Hush, little baby, don't you cry. Mama's gonna sing you a lullaby…" ♫♪ Or something that sounded like that.

The shepherds came to a halt so suddenly, that a couple of them in the back ran into the ones in front of them. Then, quietly as they could, they walked forward into the stable. Around the small fire, there was a man standing, and sitting next to the fire, a young woman holding a baby in one arm, and carefully turning over the bread on the flat stone in the fire to bake on the other side. The man looked tired and a little scared, but the young mother looked up from her beautiful baby and her cooking, and smiled a smile so full of love and welcome, that one by one the shepherds knelt before her and the tiny baby boy. They began to tell the man and his wife about the angels who had appeared to them. The man, who was named Joseph, seemed amazed by the story of the shepherds, but the mother who was named Mary just nodded and smiled in complete understanding, almost as if… she had dealt with angels before. The baby slept on.

Jamaal was hungry and after a while he couldn't stand it any longer, so he leaned his long neck over to where Mary had made a small stack of freshly baked flatbread, and helped himself to a piece – like all camels, Jamaal loves freshly baked flatbread. The shepherds yelled at him, but Mary just laughed, handed him another warm piece of bread, and said there was plenty for everyone. And Mary began to tear off big chunks of the savory bread and hand them out to the shepherds and Joseph, and then she mixed more bread and spread it on the flat stone to bake.

And so they talked through the long, cold night, sharing warm freshly baked bread, and spoke of Angels and God's love for everyone. Mary had long since fallen asleep with the baby in her arms... even Joseph was nodding – and the shepherds knew it was time to leave. One by one, they knelt again before the baby, and he opened his eyes, but he didn't cry. He just smiled and looked at each shepherd as though he knew each one of them by name, and it was like all of God's love was shining through his eyes. Last of all, Jamaal knelt down before him too... and the baby smiled even more than before and reached out a pudgy little hand to pat Jamaal's soft nose… and the baby giggled.

A light, gentle snow had begun to fall, as they returned to the sheep on the hillside, exhausted. They slept through most of the next day. The sheep spent most of that day munching grass and griping about how such an incredible flock as they, deserved to have more attentive shepherds. Jamaal spent a lot of that day dozing, but when he woke he couldn't help but wonder why all this had happened.

From all of the words of the Angels and the talk of the shepherds with Mary and Joseph, he finally figured it out. You see, camels never forget how much God loves them, but humans do. Camels remember God loves them every time they can cross the desert without having hardly any water. Camels remember God loves them when their thick shaggy coat reflects the sunlight and insulates them from the heat of the desert sand. Camels can see how much God loves them because of their long legs that keep them high off the hot ground and their wide feet that let them travel the desert without sinking into the sand.

No, camels never forget that God loves them, but Jamaal finally realized that humans had forgotten how much God loves them. God had to do something incredible and special to remind them… and so God sent all of his love wrapped up in one little tiny package. God sent all of his love in one small baby, so they could see it right in front of them, and never ever forget again.

Jamaal says he has never forgotten that night, and he learned four important lessons:

First, if you're feeling lost and alone, the kindness of strangers can surprise you.

Second, always watch for angels… they tend to show up when you least expect them.

Third, if you ever see shepherds running, you run… follow them!

And last, but most importantly, he learned, that God loved us so much he sent all of his love shining in the eyes of one little baby. Who learned to walk, and loved his mom and dad, and stubbed his toes and cried… and finally grew up to become a man who had one simple message for everyone: Whoever you are, whatever deserts you have crossed in your life, no matter how lost you may feel… Never ever forget… God loves you so much… so much.

(Camel whispers in my ear.) Oh… Jamaal says it's getting late, and that's his story, but I need to say one more thing… (Camel whispers in my ear.) Oh, yes, we say… Amen. (Camel and I nod.)

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T12:22:00.000-08:00

The Irrational Season

2011-12-18T07:45:00.000-08:00

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, ‘Greetings, favoured one! The Lord is with you.’ But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 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. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘How can this be, since I am a virgin?’ 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. 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. For nothing will be impossible with God.’ 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. – Luke 1:26-38

I saw an angel once.

I was standing in the check-out line at a 7-11 one day. In front of me was an old man, stooped like he was carrying a heavy burden. The clerk was a short, heavyset Hispanic girl – acne scarred her young face. She was not particularly attractive. He finished his purchase and then just began to talk to the girl, "My wife died a month ago…" he said. He went on to speak of her cancer… the long months of losing her bit by bit… and his loneliness now that she was no longer in his life after so many years. As his sad story unfolded, I glanced at the girl, and she had the most gentle, listening expression on her face. And, maybe it was my imagination, but as she listened, it seemed to me there was a glow, a gentle light all around her, and she changed… she became one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. When he was done, he just kind of nodded quietly to himself, picked up his purchase, and left. The glow around this girl seemed to fade and she became just an ordinary kind of homely girl once again. She seemed to come out of the trance, and looked at me rather embarrassed and asked, "Why did he tell me that?" All I could say was, "He needed to tell someone, and you were kind enough to listen."

Angels show up in the most unusual places. Angels showed up in the middle of the desert to an old man and his wife. In Genesis 17, they appeared and told Abraham that, at ninety-nine years of age, he and his wife Sarah, who was ninety, were going to have a son. Sarah listening behind the tent curtain laughed. Quite impossible. Irrational. And yet, at that same time the next year, a beautiful baby boy was born, and they named him Isaac, which means laughter.

In Exodus we read of Moses telling the greatest empire of his day, Egypt, to let God's people go. Completely out of the question. Ridiculous. Yet in Exodus 14, we read of God's angel who led a captive people, the Israelites, out of Egypt by acting as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Who would've thought an angel would've shown up to help out a bunch of slaves?

And in our Gospel today, the Angel Gabriel shows up in this little backwater town of Galilee called Nazareth, terrifying and beautiful, his wings woven of starlight, radiating power and love, and speaks to this teenaged peasant girl, and promises the impossible… that Mary would have a child. But even more irrational and impossible, that God would no longer be far off, sending others with messages for his people, but that God would come among us in the flesh – not in fire, or thunder, or lightning, or smoke – not with trumpets and fanfare – but that God would come among us, small and tiny and helpless; and that we could touch his soft velvet cheek, and his mom could play piggies with his toes… and God would smile and giggle.

The most impossible, irrational, ridiculous thing of all happened: No longer would women and men have to reach up to God, because God was coming down to meet us here. Because of the bravery of one teenage girl, all of human history changed.

Thank you, Mary for not being afraid of what others would say; for not being afraid of shame; for not being afraid of what Joseph and your family would think. Thank you, Mary, for saying yes to the impossible… to the irrational.

Isn't it amazing how much of God's plan God was willing to place into fragile human hands? God was willing to place into the aged, wrinkled hands of Abraham and Sarah the birth of a nation.

God was willing to place into the hands of a sheepherder and a former murderer, Moses, the deliverance of the Israelites.

God was willing to place the nurture and care and love of his only son into the arms of this teenaged peasant girl.

God was willing to place the protection of his son and mother into the rough hands of an uneducated carpenter, Joseph.

And God is willing to place into your hands and my hands today God's plans for our own time.

Angels appear in the most unlikely places, at the strangest times, telling us of impossible, irrational things. For some people, Angels appear slowly over time… they come as a feeling or a certainty about what they should do. For others, they strike like the blinding light struck Paul on the road to Damascus in Acts 9. Some people just glimpse God's plan for them out of the corner of their eyes… it's elusive… if they turned to look at it directly it seems to disappear, but it's always there.

In Alice in Wonderland Through the Looking Glass Alice said, "One can't believe impossible things."

“I dare say you haven't had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

So what seems impossible to you this morning? Maybe you're struggling with the loss of someone so dear to you that it seems impossible you could ever smile again. Maybe your life has been in such a mess that you feel like it's never going to straighten out. Perhaps something has caused you to lose your faith, and it seems impossible you're ever going to regain it. Whatever burden you might be carrying today that seems impossible to deal with, I offer to you the irrational words of the Angel Gabriel:

"For nothing shall be impossible with God."

It's not just we as individuals who have a problem believing impossible things; the whole world has this problem. And to these things that the world thinks are impossible, that the world considers irrational, the Angel Gabriel has a ready answer.

“It's impossible to feed all the poor of the world.”

And Gabriel says, "Nothing shall be impossible with God"

“It's impossible to return love for hate.”

And Gabriel says, "Nothing shall be impossible with God"

“It's impossible to make sure every child has good prenatal care.”

And Gabriel says, "Nothing shall be impossible with God."

“It's impossible to love my neighbor as I love myself.”

And Gabriel says, "Nothing shall be impossible with God."

“It's impossible that we can establish complete equity and justice in our land.”

And Gabriel says, "Nothing shall be impossible with God."

Nothing… nothing…… nothing!

God came down to us at Christmas… The most impossible thing of all… So that we might believe the impossible is possible.

So, the next time the Angel Gabriel stops by your house, what are you going to say? Will you say…

“Who me?”

“I can't do that.”

“I don't have the time.”

“I'm too old to change.”

“I’m too young.”

“I'm just one person.”

“That's irrational!”

“That's impossible!”

Or maybe, just maybe you will you take a chance and trust the God of the impossible…

and burdens you been carrying in your life will be lifted…

and you will be able to love people who are completely unlovable…

and the hungry will be fed…

and justice will be done…

Maybe, just maybe, you like Mary will say to the angel, "Let it be with me according to your word." And the world will never be the same again.

Madeline L’Engle, the author of A Wrinkle in Time, and a great writer in our Episcopal tradition once wrote:

This is the irrational season

When love blooms bright and wild.

Had Mary been filled with reason,

There had been no room for the child!

Amen.

This Sermon is Sponsored by Walmart

2011-11-24T17:17:00.000-08:00

‘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? 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? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?^* And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 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? Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God^* and his^* righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. – Matthew 6:25-33

Happy Thanksgiving! I am so thankful all of you are here.

Budgets are tight across all America – even in our churches. So, to bring in a little extra cash into the church, my sermon this morning has been sponsored by Meadowood Mall, Summit Mall, the Legends at Sparks Marina, Walmart, and Target. So, on behalf of "More Choices" Meadowood, "Shop in Style" Summit, "100% Style at Up to 60% off" Legends, "Save money. Live better." Walmart, and "Expect more, Pay Less" Target, They wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.

But given the economy, each of the sponsors of my sermon this morning asks that you not to be too thankful. You see, tomorrow is Black Friday – to be precise at 12:00 AM tomorrow / midnight tonight – and, if you are too thankful for what you have, you're not likely to be rushing out to buy lots of stuff. And that is bad for corporate America. Alright, I'm kidding. I have written to all these stores asking for sponsorship of my sermon today, but I haven't heard back yet. So, the sponsorships are still pending.

Today's Gospel somehow doesn't sound very in tune with the commercial shopping season, does it?

The messages we've on our TV's and radios since Halloween (or was it Labor Day?) all say, "Buy stuff - buy stuff - buy stuff!" But Jesus this morning says, "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?" This seems completely unrealistic. Preparing this sermon, I had to ask myself, "Have I ever really done this?" I mean, have I ever really not worried? I don't know that a day has gone by in my life where I haven't worried about my kids and my family, and/or my job, and/or, the poor polar bears and global warming, and/or traffic, and/or weather, and/or whether people liked me.

And I worry about money, even though – did you know? I'm a very rich man. I didn't realize it until I did a little math. I know you were promised that if you came to church on Thanksgiving, there would be no math, but stick with me. Let me tell you about my results. Worldwide 1.7 billion people are in poverty - this is just 11% absolute poverty; it doesn't even include relative poverty. The United Nations' definition of absolute poverty is living on less than $1.25/day. I figured that for most of us here at Trinity we earn in about half a day, what takes an entire year for the poorest people on earth to make.

It does no good to say, "Well Rick, you got an education and worked hard for many years." I put my heart and soul into what I do, but you can't tell me I work harder than poor people. If we paid people based on how hard people work, mothers in famine stricken parts of Africa should be billionaires. So... I'm a very rich man... and over and over in my mind I keep hearing the words of Jesus in Luke 12:48: "To whom much is given, much is required."

We have gotten out of practice of being grateful. About 400 years ago on another continent there was a Lutheran pastor named Martin Rinkhart. He lived in Eilenberg in Saxony and it was during the siege of the Thirty Years War. We've just been through a devastating fire that destroyed 35 homes – Eilenberg was a walled city that was surrounded and 800 homes were burned, and the people within suffered from the plague, from starvation, and it got to the point where the pastors within that town, within that village were burying 12 people a day. Pretty soon the pastors themselves started to die and Martin Rinckart was the only pastor left. He was conducting 50 funerals a day, can you imagine? Fifty funerals a day. He buried over 5,000 people that year, including his own wife.

When the war ended in 1648 he sat down, and listen to the words that he penned:

Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices,
Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices;
Who from our mothers' arms has blessed us on our way
With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.

You probably recognize the words – they're hymn #397. This was a man who knew horrors beyond all we can think and imagine, getting on his knees and leading people in praise and thanks to our God. [Deb Kielsmeier, "Thanksgiving," Nov. 25, 2004, Christ Presbyterian Church Web Site, christpresbyterian.com.]

Once you realize how blessed you are, and how grateful you are, you can't help but begin to see the ways each of us squanders and wastes and hoards. It creates a tension in your heart, doesn't it? Now, I'm not recommending calling off Thanksgiving or all shopping, but instead, I'm saying we should go deeper into it.

I pray that today's Thanksgiving will open our eyes and ears to the Creator of all things. That it will open our imaginations to a God who passionately loves all life. That on this day, we open our souls in thanksgiving for all our fellow human beings and creatures and the earth itself. That we open our hearts to affirm that all that we have comes from God who gives everything away and would teach us that same path of stewardship and living. May we open our very beings to a God who says to you and to me, to rich and poor... to every race, to every country...every nation, to those of us who will go home to roasting turkeys... and to those who will not, "Could you worry a little less? Be a little less anxious about your life?" "The outcome is not in doubt; there is enough in my abundant creation for all."

We pray, "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as in heaven..." Just imagine this Thanksgiving Day if we weren't anxious; if we didn't stockpile and hoard; if we didn't buy into the myth of scarcity! But instead, if we truly believed in God's abundance and providence. If we opened our hearts and our hands. What would the world be like? If we truly believed we had enough and maybe didn't need whatever the hottest selling must-have gizmo is going to be at the stores tomorrow. Everyone would have enough. Everyone would be fed and clothed and have access to clean water, the way God intended! Most wars are over wanting what others have. Maybe even war itself would end, peace would come, and we would finally take the time to sit down as one world and learn to truly love our fellow human beings.

And that... that might just be the Kingdom. Amen.

Occupy Church!

2011-11-19T10:09:00.000-08:00

Take a look at this inspiring video. Whatever you think of the Occupy movement, if we could capture this same spirit in our churches, what a difference it would make!

Thank you to Counterlight's Peculiars for making me aware of this!

Don't Feed the Donkeys! Don't harrass the a... um... burros!

2011-11-05T13:27:00.000-07:00

Only in Nevada would you read a story like this!

The federal government has a warning for sightseers passing through Nevada’s rural roads: Don’t feed the donkeys.

A person who harasses the asses may also be fined (It was just too good not to say!) Read the whole story here.

Saints

2011-11-01T07:03:00.000-07:00

Saints

by Matthew R. Brown

It is the glory of the Church that it cannot name all the saints.

It is the glory of the Church that it cannot remember all the saints.

It is the glory of Christ that we cannot count all the saints.

Saints are found behind all the rocks of the mountain.

Saints are found among the trees of the wood.

Saints hide in blossoms, ride birds, top clouds; follow passages under the earth.

They sweep the floors of the universe.

They take out the garbage of the cosmos.

The seeds they scatter soften and green the hillsides; leaves open their hands; joyful beasts wander among trees, cling to grassy slopes.

The faithful cling to the roots of the saints, growing up from the ground.

One of You is the Messiah

2011-10-31T09:57:00.000-07:00

The following is my own adaptation of a well-known Yiddish folktale. If you are part of a church or synagogue that has struggled to bring in new members, I think there is a message in the story for you. As a Christian, the church is my mother; but Judaism is my grandmother, and I love them both. For all the incredible gimmicks that purport to attract and keep new members – everything from "Invite a Friend to Church Sunday," to bringing in visiting consultants, to expensive media campaigns – we might do better to listen to the wisdom of our grandmother.

Once upon a time in the old country, there was a synagogue that had fallen on hard times. Only five members were left: except for one young boy, all of them were over sixty years old.

In the mountains near the synagogue there lived an old retired rabbi. It occurred to the five to ask the rabbi if he could offer any advice that might save the synagogue. One of the more able members, a 62-year-old man by the name of Moishe, made the arduous climb up the mountain arriving late in the afternoon. The old rabbi welcomed him humbly. Sitting down to tea the old rabbi had prepared, the member of the declining synagogue spoke at length about the discouragement his congregation faced. He described all of the different ways they had tried to attract new members: invite neighbors, provide programs for younger people, make their worship more upbeat and joyful, even going door to door inviting former members of the synagogue to return. Nothing worked. Finally, the member ran out of words as evening came on. In desperation, he asked, "Rabbi, what should we do?" After a long silence, the rabbi simply responded by saying, "I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is, the Messiah is one of you." Stunned by this great news, Moishe, returning to the synagogue, and told the four other members what the rabbi had said.

In the months that followed, the synagogue members pondered the words of the rabbi. "The Messiah is one of us?" they each asked themselves.

They began to look around themselves at the other people in the congregation trying to figure out which one of them could be the Messiah.

"Surely it couldn't be Schwartzman. He's so old, he was around when God created dirt." But as they thought about it, they wondered if maybe he could be the Messiah. He certainly has a lot of wisdom, and he has been around longer than all of us – maybe he could be the Messiah.

And then they thought, "Certainly it can't be young Jacob. He's just a boy." But as they thought about it, they wondered if maybe he could be the Messiah. He certainly was a bright and good boy.

And then they thought, "Of course, it can't be Miriam. She's got a personality as sour as old gefilte fish." But as he thought about it, they wondered if maybe she could be the Messiah. Certainly the Messiah would be discouraged by some of the things that go on in our village. The Torah and the prophets said nothing about the Messiah being a woman, but maybe God was doing a new thing.

And so it went… as they thought about these possibilities, they all began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off-chance that, one among them might be the Messiah ... and on the off-chance that each member himself or herself might be the Messiah, they also began to treat themselves with extraordinary care.

As time went by, people visiting the synagogue noticed the aura of respect and gentle kindness that surrounded the five members of the small synagogue. Hardly knowing why, more people began to come back to worship at the old synagogue. They began to bring their friends, and their friends brought more friends.

I've been a fan of Yiddish literature since I was in college, and I believe there is an incredible depth of wisdom contained in them. If you are interested in exploring Yiddish literature further, I would recommend the original book that caused me to fall in love with this genre: A Treasury of Yiddish Stories edited by Irving Howe and Eliezer Greenberg. My personal favorite is entitled "If Not Higher" by I. L. Peretz.

Angels Trapped in Granite

2011-10-23T19:32:00.000-07:00

When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, ‘ “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’ – Matthew 22:34-40

     The Pharisees huddled in a corner of the temple trying to structure a question that would trip up Jesus. Finally they thought they had it: “Teacher, which is the great commandment of the law?” They were going to give him just enough rope to hang himself. They were to let him talk, and then, whatever he said, pick him apart like the front runner in a GOP presidential candidate debate in Las Vegas.

     According to Jewish tradition, the Torah contained a total of 613 distinct commandments. It seemed a foolproof trap: kind of like asking an attorney what's the most important of the twenty-seven amendments to the constitution? If you say the First Amendment (freedom of speech, the press, religion, and right to assemble), you immediately will be attacked: "What about the Fifth Amendment? Don't you think it's important to have due process if you're accused of crime? Do you support the right of government to just throw someone in jail because they don't like their political views?" If you say the 19th Amendment which as we all know gave women the right to vote, you'd be attacked: "You think that's more important than the 13th Amendment? The one that abolished slavery in the United States?" Jesus knew what they were up to. He said, in essence, “You missed it again, guys. It really takes two commandments to make the great commandment.”

     He started with what is called the Shema. They all knew it – all pious Jews had to recite the Shema, a quote from Deuteronomy 6, twice a day:

Hear, O Israel: the lord is our God, the lord alone. You shall love the lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.

     The love of God has priority over everything else. Jesus takes that memorized set of verses they recited twice a day and extends it. He says the commandment to love your neighbor is like unto that first commandment, making it equally the greatest commandment. "You shall love your neighbor as yourself" from Leviticus 19:18 is preceded by, "You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people," then comes, "but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” It seems like Jesus is explaining that to love God with all our heart and soul and mind, we can't be filling our hearts with grudges against others. Our lists of wrongs take up precious space where we need to be absorbing the infinite goodness of God. I think Jesus wants us to see that we are taking up precious "soul space" with grudges... space within us that could be used to hold God instead.

     So how do you know if you love God? Teresa of Avila once said, “We cannot know whether we love God, although there may be strong reason for thinking so, but there can be no doubt about whether we love our neighbor or not.” 1 John. 4:20, 21 says, “Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also."

     It's an easy concept, but how do you do it? How do you go about loving your neighbor in the real world? C. S. Lewis in his book Mere Christianity talks about how to do this practically:

Do not waste your time bothering whether you ‘love' your neighbor, act as if you did. As soon as we do this, we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. If you injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him more. If you do him a good turn, you will find yourself disliking him less.

     In 2002, a newspaper report said that German police were investigating reports of screams coming from an apartment in the town of Offenbach found a 76-year-old woman practicing for a yodeling diploma. The police statement said, “The officers weren’t able to judge whether the neighbors were unfamiliar with Bavarian folk music, or whether the lady still requires a lot of practice.

     We won't always love our neighbor perfectly, but we can practice, and the feelings will follow.

     So we understand we're supposed to love God, and we get the point that we do that by loving our neighbor, but so often we skip over the last part of what Jesus said: "…love your neighbor as yourself." On the surface it seems natural to say that of course we love ourselves. We certainly have selfish motivations. I want my own way. We do things that feel good to us, no matter how they hurt other people. But I wonder if most of us truly love ourselves in the sense of accepting ourselves as we are – our good parts… and our broken pieces. We say such terrible things to ourselves: "What's wrong with me? Why am I so stupid? It's my own fault!" We look at others, and we just automatically assume they're happier than we are, their marriages are better, they don't have the same worries we do. But all of us carry around terrible burdens on our hearts. I guarantee you the person sitting next to you in the pew is carrying some kind of burden on her or his heart that you don't know about. But if we were just a little bit gentler to ourselves, maybe we'd realize that everyone is carrying the same burdens… burdens of their own… and then we could be gentler to them. So many people are hurting. If we broaden our definition of neighbor, we might see it.

     When I was teaching, I used to tell my students they were all my favorites. I'd say, "Sally gets to pass out papers because she's my favorite," and then ten minutes later, I'd say, "Mark gets to be first in the lunch line because he's my favorite." Someone would always say, "Hey, I thought you said Sally was your favorite!" and I smile and say, "She is." And they’d look at me as if to say, "You're the weirdest teacher we've ever had,"…and they were right.

     I had a student once named Ian, and that boy was a pain. He never did his homework; he always had an excuse. He never turned anything in on time, and everything was sloppy and half completed. Ian got to be my "favorite" a lot, I think because he really wasn't… and I felt guilty about that. Part of the population of my school came from the daily motels and rundown small houses scattered around the edges of downtown Reno. Around Thanksgiving, my school would collect enough food to create boxes of entire Thanksgiving dinners for poor students, and then we would go out on Thanksgiving eve and deliver them. Ian's house was on our schedule that year. We pulled up to the curb, and there was this rundown house sitting in the middle of a mud field. Ian was just standing there in the middle of the mud field huddled in his coat. It was a miserable, cold day, and it was getting dark, and I assumed Ian was playing outside, but he didn't look like he was playing – he was just kind of standing there. I carried the box of Thanksgiving dinner across the mud, trying not to think about was happening to my dress shoes. I tried to be cheerful, "Ian!" I said, "We’ve brought you Thanksgiving dinner!" He looked as excited as if I had told him he'd just won a trip to Disneyland. Then I found out why he was standing in the middle that field. He said, "I'm not supposed to go into the house until my dad gets home, but there's a broken window in the back, and I can let you in." We went up to the house. There was a pitiful old dog chained in the mud. Ian reached through the broken window in the back and opened the door. The house had maybe three tiny cold rooms. Ian told me I could set the box of food on the heater – it was a big square standalone thing in the center of the living room with a bare pipe running into the wall. I said, "Ian, I don't think it's a good idea to set a cardboard box on your heater." Ian cheerfully replied, "That's okay it hasn't worked since last year." I trudged back through the mud to my car and all I could think was, "God forgive me for not understanding the burden this little boy was carrying." After that, whenever I said Ian was my favorite… I meant it.

     When you think of things that are holy, what you think of? The altar? This church? The water in the font? Rarely, does the thought of your neighbor enter your mind first. C. S. Lewis said, "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal ... But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors ... Next to the blessed sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.”

     The great painter and sculptor Michelangelo once bought a piece of inferior-looking granite which no one else would buy. Asked why he'd bought it he said, "Because there's an angel in there, and I must set it free." When Michelangelo was working on a sculpture, he didn't use the usual method of working on the figure from all sides. Michelangelo used to work from the front and carve back so that the figure emerged, as if it had been trapped in the stone, as if he was freeing it. Michelangelo looked at the piece of granite, which no one else wanted, and saw an angel needing to be set free. God looks at us, and sees our fears and our limitations, the things which lock us in. God also sees our abilities, our inner beauty, our potential. God sees the angel inside us waiting to be set free. God is the sculptor who brings forth our true created selves. As we open ourselves to God, allowing that sculpting to take place, we become aware of that beauty within ourselves… and within others.

     When you read about the death of Moses in Deuteronomy 34, you learn he never made it to the Promised Land; he only got to look over at it. What you think of when you think the Promised Land? Milk and honey? Rest? Peace? So many of us are like Moses. We look over at the Promised Land, but we don't cross into it. Don't be like Moses. Don't just look over into the Promised Land. Cross the Jordan. Go into that good land. When one thinks of the Promised Land, one big thought that comes to my mind is a land where holy and just people live – a people who are loving and compassionate toward each other. They see the burdens each other is carrying and, day by day, they try in small ways, to lighten their load.

     There is a road that God has built that leads into the Promised Land, but the road often passes by dilapidated houses sitting in the middle of mud fields, and broken windows, and heaters that don't work, and little kids huddled into their coats. It passes by heartaches that we carry inside ourselves that no one else sees, but we pray that someone else… some day… will see.

     There is a road that God has built that leads into the Promised Land. It starts at your front door… but it leads… it leads through your neighbor's yard.

A Month of Gratitude on Facebook

2011-10-19T11:26:00.000-07:00

Spend the month of November exploring "Gratitude". Scripture readings, writing prompts, surveys, movies, and prayers will be posted daily, Monday through Friday of each week. Check in every day for something new or just drop in when you have the time. Click the "Like" button below to be part of the experience! Everyone is welcome!

"Do you have services?" – The Trials and Joys of Serving in a Downtown Church

2011-10-07T07:17:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, the doorbell buzzed at the Parish Hall. I was close, so I answered it. Outside, waiting impatiently, was a man in a suit. I opened the door and greeted him, and he asked, "Do you have services here?" I responded, "Yes..." but before I could give him our service times, he thrust a piece of paper at me and said, "I need twelve copies of this."

<<< sigh >>>

Simon's Cat in "Double Trouble"

2011-10-07T06:57:00.000-07:00

For anyone who, like me, has a house with two cats in it...

The New Google+ vs. Facebook

2011-09-20T20:06:00.000-07:00

     My close friends know that I was kind of shamed into rejoining Facebook after a long absence by a circle of older ladies who were incredulous I was so behind the times. It's odd that I didn't immediately take to Facebook since I am kind of a technogeek. Balancing out my technogeekyness, however, is a very strong sense of my own privacy. It would not occur to me to share personal details I see posted on Facebook (by people other than my own friends, of course, who only post intelligent and sensitive observations that enrich and inspire.) Since I'm already on that slippery Facebook slope, the technogeek in me won the battle to check out the new Google+ service that became available today to everyone without an invitation. You may click here if you're so excited about this you wish to join Google+ immediately without reading the rest of my review of this new service ► https://plus.google.com/ For those of you who can contain yourselves a bit longer, here's my thoughts on it.

     First Impressions: Not much different than Facebook. The box along the top asks you to post a status update. To the left you'll see your various "circles" or groups of friends, much like the new groups update to Facebook. To the right you'll see suggestions of new friends and a place to receive invitations to events.

     Privacy Controls: Naturally, the first place I want to look at was my privacy settings. They're not much different from Facebook's new ones. I also had to go into my settings and turn off the options that E-mail you every time there's any activity on your Google+ account. My thinking with both Facebook and Google+ is I'll check-in when I feel like checking in; the last thing I need is a bunch of updates in my E-mail inbox telling me what everyone else had for lunch and that they've uploaded new baby pictures.

     Digging a Little Deeper: There are some unique and kind of cool things on Google+ you won't find on Facebook.

Major Cool Feature #1: Hangouts – What they are is basically Skype, but you can videoconference with more than one person at the same time. You can choose which circle of friends or family have access to a hangout you create. For me, instead of just Skyping with my daughter in Texas, we can now hold family conversations with all of us in the same room. Everyone with whom you’re videoconferencing shows up in boxes underneath the main picture. There's also Hangouts with Extras, which has some cool features (see below) that might be very useful if you're actually working on a group project. For me, it's just kind of neat to be able to have my whole family in a single room seeing each other and talking.

Major Cool Feature #2: Huddle – Naturally, Google+ has an app for your smartphone. Huddle allows you to create what amounts to a conference call while you're texting. Everyone sees everyone else's text in the group, so if you're planning a dinner, for example, you can text with everyone simultaneously and get a date and time set. This will also probably be a major cool feature for young people to chat with their friends.

Now we move from the Major Cool Features to what I would describe as the "Meh" Features.

Meh Feature #1: Instant Upload – Pictures on your smart phone will automatically sync with the private album on your Google+ account. Instead of having to upload pictures one at a time, you'll have them right there for easy access. It simplifies things, but I don't know how I feel about Google having instant access to every photo I take.

Meh Feature #2: Sparks – This sounds to me basically like a glorified Google search. Supposedly, you enter things in which you are interested such as "The Episcopal Church" and Google+ will steer you toward websites, blogs, etc. in your area of interest so you'll always have something to read. I'll give it a try, but it sounds more like I'm being mined so Google can produce more targeted ads.

While Google+ has some great new features, the biggest drawback I can see is none of my friends are on it yet. I'll certainly encourage my family to open Google+ accounts so we can use the Hangout feature, but it seems like a lot of work for most folks to migrate over to a new platform. We'll see – that's probably what they said about MySpace when Facebook came along.

Fear

2011-09-18T22:20:00.000-07:00

The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. – Exodus 16:2

For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. – Philippians 1:21

Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner… – Matthew 20:10,11

      Fear.

     It's what I felt ten years ago as a teacher trying to explain to young children what had just happened at the World Trade Center in New York City. The children were afraid, and my job as a teacher was to reassure them that they were safe with me in school, even though I was just as afraid.

     Fear.

     It's what I felt Friday night as I watched over two hours of coverage of the tragedy at the Reno Air Races. Finally, I just had to turn the TV off. I had gone from being afraid and horrified to simply being numb, as the video of the accident looped over and over again. I gave up working on my sermon, and just went to bed, turned out the lights, and prayed.

     We spend so much of our lives afraid. We naturally experience fear when we have to deal with terrible tragedies: The shootings in Carson City last week; the devastation of the hurricane on the East Coast; the suffering of the Japanese in the wake of the tsunami; the poor people of the nation of Haiti. But just in the day-to-day living of our lives, so much of what makes our decisions for us is fear.

     In our readings today, the Children of Israel were afraid: Afraid that there wouldn't be enough to eat; afraid that they would die of thirst. We live in constant fear of both living and dying. Yet in our reading in Philippians today, we hear Paul saying he's neither afraid to live nor afraid to die. And because he had let go of fear, he was able to act, and to teach, and to love. Even in our Gospel reading today, we see the commonest of all fears: Those who had worked in the vineyard all day were angry that those who had only worked a couple hours were paid the same. That anger was based in a common fear we all share: The fear that someone else will do better than we will. That they will somehow get ahead of us in this life that we so often turn into a rat race. And because we live in our own skin, we think our own personal fears are unique, but they're not.

     Michael Bernard Loggins is an adult living in San Francisco with developmental disabilities. He wrote a little book about his fears entitled Fears of Your Life. He says of his book, “I write down my fears, my scariness and my frightfulness. This is an understanding process. It helps me real good.” You and I may not seem to have a lot in common with a developmentally disabled 40-year-old man, but I invite you to listen to some of his fears and see if we don't share some just like his.

Fear of hospitals and needles.
Click here to order book.
Fear of school and dentists.
Fear of black cats.
Fear of monsters being under my bed.
Fear of intruders coming to the house to steal things and hurt us all.
Fear of being followed.
Fear of dogs.
Fear strangers.
Fear of timebombs.
Feared of being left in the house alone afraid that there would be an earthquake in few more seconds.
Feared that if you are bad or naughty no one's isn't going to love you anymore.
People are fearful of me which I wonder is they think I am all that terrible or I'm thinking that they think I'm not human at all because when they sit next to me than they get back up and move away from me i may be a stranger but that doesn't make me a created monster or something like that… They don't think who's feelings they hurt at all they just do it no consideration for whatever.
Fear of you never known you were gonna lose your mother is very sad and scary experience you have to face and learn from and you wonder why she has to die I love her – and I had loved her once while she were alive. Especially if she was the mother that raised you and the others through birth and you only wish that you could have done all you can to help save her life. It gonna be a worse times and hard times for Michael Bernard Loggins and his sisters and brothers too. Especially when Mother's day comes.

Yet, this man who faces so many challenges in his life also shares his wisdom about fears with us:

Does fear makes you smart or does it takes you over? It tries…
Want to know more about fears: and what it can happen to you if you still be afraid and you hasn't really truly over come the kind of fear that you happens to have on you? You look like you'll almost never get your chance of over coming it like if you are home alone.
Life will be… no matter what the circumstances will be. Whether it's good – bad – or worse than what it seems or even those things kind of get wacky, or slightly out of hand, soon or later, these things blows over and return to what they will be.

      I think Michael Bernard Loggins is right: Fear can take over your life. You'll never get over fear hiding alone at home. And finally, in life these things blow over and return to what they will be.

     It is tempting to blame tragedy on God. But God was not behind the throttle of the airplane Friday. There was just a good man by all accounts, an excellent pilot, yet human frailty or a mechanical failure – we don't know – overtook him. It was an accident.

     But I know where God was because I saw him on TV. I saw God in over a hundred people in the grandstands who responded to the plea for anyone with medical training to come help. I saw God in the many people who had no medical training who stayed and helped get the wounded to safety and comfort the terrified and grieving. And I see God in all the good, good people of this Valley who hold the victims of this tragedy up in prayer.

     Last week on 9/11, we talked about forgiveness. This week we consider fear. Next week, we will talk about the future. I am convinced that without forgiveness; without letting go of harm that has been done to us either intentionally or just because of the randomness of life… all that remains is fear. I am convinced that without looking to a future of love; without believing the God whose name is love is already standing there waiting in all our tomorrows no matter what they bring… all that remains is fear. I am also equally convinced that if we will unclench our fists and allow God to carry the burden of our fears… all that will remain is love.

A Prayer for The Tragedy at the Reno Air Races

2011-09-17T12:27:00.000-07:00

     O merciful God, you have taught us you do not willingly afflict or grieve your children: look with pity upon the sorrows of the family and friends of those who died and those who were injured at the Air Races. Remember in your mercy, those who died and hold their souls close to your heart. For the injured and those who grieve, and for we who are simply stunned and aching because of this accident, nourish all our souls with patience, comfort us with a sense of your goodness, lift up your countenance upon us, and give us peace

     We pray also for the emergency workers, doctors, nurses, and all healthcare providers. When those charged with the urgent mediation of your healing power feel overwhelmed by the numbers of the suffering, uphold them in their fatigue and banish their despair. Let them see with your eyes, so they may know all their patients as precious. Give comfort, and renew their energy and compassion.

     O Christ, you came into the world as one of us, and suffered as we do. As we go through the trials of life, help us to realize you are with us at all times and in all things; that we have no pain you do not see; and that your loving grace enfolds us for eternity. In the security of your embrace we pray. Amen.

If I truly loved my neighbor

2011-09-03T15:36:00.000-07:00

Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. The command-ments, ‘You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet’; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbour; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law. Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light; let us live honourably as in the day, not in revelling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. – Romans 13:8-14

A comedian once joked that the biblical command to love your neighbor and love your enemies were side-by-side in the Gospels because usually they were the same people. In Romans, Paul says, "Any other commandment(s), are summed up in this word, 'love your neighbor as yourself.' love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.'"

Loving your neighbor is something we say we’ll do every time we repeat our baptismal covenant: The celebrant says, "Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?" and the people respond, "I will, with God's help." If you check the Internet, you'll find people have made up all sorts of lists of what they feel it means to "love your neighbor" in practical terms. Here are some of the more interesting ones I found:

Ask your priest if someone on your church’s sick list would like a visit.
Mow your neighbor’s grass.
Volunteer to tutor a kid at your local elementary school. (try to get to know the kid’s family.)
Plant a tree.
Serve in a homeless shelter. For extra credit, go back and eat or sleep in the shelter and allow yourself to be served.
The next time you're out shopping, let the person behind you in line go first.
Take a prayer walk. With the lovely days of late summer upon us, go for a walk around your neighborhood, and pray for your neighbors as you stroll.
Listen to other's stories.
Share a meal.
Go to an elderly home and get a list of folks who don´t get any visitors. Visit them each week and tell stories, read the Bible together, or play board games.
Confess something you have done wrong to someone and ask them to pray for you.

     But of course, other people's lists might give you ideas, but you really have to make your own. As I studied this scripture this week, I kept coming back to the same thing: If I truly loved my neighbor, as I profess, how would my life change? Some of you have mentioned you like my sermons... thank you. If you haven't gotten the chance to tell me, you’re more than welcome to leave a comment at the end of this blog entry. I'm going to share with you one of my secrets for writing a sermon: I'm always preaching to myself. If you ever hear something in my sermons that feels like I'm urging others to do something or criticizing something, it's honestly directed at me... I just happen to be sharing it with you. So, I thought I'd just share with you the list I've come up with this week as I contemplated what it would mean in my life:

     #1 - I would have to get to know my neighbors better. The neighbors to the south of me moved out, but there are new ones moving in. I've not met them... aren't I going to have to do that so I can truly love them? The man and his family to the north of me I know. We speak every now and then. He's got a lawn care business; his lawn is gorgeous... something straight out of a Better Homes & Gardens photo spread. The man is an artist. I am a guy... like all guys, I used to see it as a competition. I used to try to have a nicer lawn than he has, but I've given up. My only goal now is to keep my lawn nice enough so I don't embarrass him when his friends come over. But I truly don’t know many of my other neighbors.

     #2 - I wouldn't judge so quickly. I wouldn't take offence so quickly, and then would handle it as Jesus suggested in Matthew 18: I would go to the person privately… or I would let it go. I wouldn’t gossip. I wouldn't be so quick to think negatively of people. I know I'd like people to do that for me.

     #3 - I won't complain about Rin Tin Tin. That neighbor with the beautiful lawn has a new German Shepherd puppy... who whines and barks constantly. But I saw that dog when the man's son first brought him home... He slipped his leash, ran straight to me in my garage, and rolled over so I could pat his tummy. My neighbor and his son ran over to retrieve the dog, and as I patted his tummy, I asked the dog’s name. My neighbor said proudly with his heavy Hispanic accent, “Rin Tin Tin.” That man's son had dreamed for years of having a dog of his own... and now he was here, and the boy looked so happy and proud. So, because I know my neighbor and his son, I won't complain when he barks and whines all the time, he's just a puppy – a puppy as big as a small horse... and the boy… you should see him… the boy is so happy.

     #4 - I would be a better driver. I'm a pretty safe driver as it is. Maybe a little too cautious. But if I thought more of my neighbor, I’d probably be more than just a careful driver… I would be a kind driver. I probably wouldn't honk at all… yes, sometimes I do – I try not to do it when I’m in collar. Let's be honest: They call the horn a "safety feature," but it's only used for two main reasons: One, to say, "You idiot!" or two, to say, "Can't you see the light's green, you idiot?" Neither of which sounds too neighborly to me.

     #5 - I would listen more and speak less. I guess that would be because I would care more about what my neighbor has to say... I would want to listen more carefully.

     Amazing. Paul in Romans tells us to be holy... to fulfill all that God really wants out of us, we don't have to go away and live as some kind of religious hermit in a cave. We don't need to work any great miracles. We don't need to sell all our possessions and put on sackcloth. We don't even have to have a Doctorate of Divinity from a recognized seminary. No, all we have to do is work a bit more on loving our neighbor, and any other commandments just fall in line… they’re taken care of. You've heard my list... how my life would change if I truly, truly loved my neighbor… now, it might be interesting to make up your own.

The Moses Choice

2011-09-02T07:56:00.000-07:00

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, ‘God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.’ But he turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’

Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?

‘For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. – Matthew 16:21-27

In April 2010, thousands of shoppers unknowingly signed their souls over to a computer game store after failing to read the "Terms and Conditions" on their website. To make a point about how none of us reads the "Terms and Conditions" of any website or software we install, GameStation in England had added an "immortal soul clause" to online purchases that read:

“By placing an order via this Website on the first day of the fourth month of the year 2010 Anno Domini, you agree to grant Us a non-transferable option to claim, for now and for evermore, your immortal soul. Should We wish to exercise this option, you agree to surrender your immortal soul, and any claim you may have on it, within 5 working days of receiving written notification from gamestation.co.uk or one of its duly authorized minions.”

GameStation representatives later generously stated they will not be enforcing their rights and will now E-mail customers nullifying any claim on their souls. For all I know, I’ve sold my soul hundreds of times over to the iTunes Store.

Wouldn't life be so much easier if losing your soul was just something that you had to watch out for when you signed a contract? I sometimes think that's why people love laundry list religion: Don't do these twenty things; do these three or four things, and you're home free! Although, to be honest, I've always wondered why the "do not" list is always so much longer than the "do" list.

Jesus says it isn't as easy as a simple check-off list. Instead, it's a lot harder and more complicated to keep our souls... to not lose who you really are... who God meant you to be. He said, "Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Jesus challenges our natural human inclination to be self-centered – have it be all about us – and asks us to accept the only way to avoid getting lost along our way in this world... the only way to save our souls... is to let go.

Unfortunately, losing your way in this world... your soul... your life... happens to people for so many reasons. The book of Exodus describes God's people as losing their souls in Egypt – what it meant to be human, their very being was undermined by the crushing cruelty of their enslavement. God heard their cry and sent Moses. Now, despite the burning bush, Moses had his own ideas about his future: He was herding sheep in Midian, he had a wife, and he wasn't interested at all in going back to Egypt to help God's people get free. But Scripture tells us Moses was a humble man. He set aside his own life and instead, chose to save the lives of others.

Some people lose their way in this world, their souls, for a lot of reasons. Paul mentions some of them in Romans 12. Some people loose who they are because they are consumed with wanting to get vengeance on another. In Oct. 2006, Charles Roberts went into an Amish school in West Nickel Mines, PA, shot ten girls, killing five before committing suicide. He wasn't Amish, but Amish families knew him as the milk truck driver who made deliveries. Since the tragedy, people around the world have been inspired by the way the Amish expressed forgiveness toward the killer and his family. According to an article on NPR (10/2/07) members of the Amish community went to the killer's burial service at the cemetery. "Several families, Amish families who had buried their own daughters just the day before were in attendance, and they hugged the widow of the gunman, and hugged other members of the killer's family." The Amish community also donated money to the killer's widow and her three young children. One counselor later said that while their acts of forgiveness were inspiring, they also caused a misperception that the Amish had quickly gotten over the tragedy. He said, however, that because the Amish can express that forgiveness, and because they hold no grudges, they are better able to concentrate on the work of their own healing. I have two daughters – It certainly made me examine my own ability to forgive.

Some people lose their way – who they are – because of grief. Grief over missed opportunities, past mistakes; grief over the essential unfairness of life; grief over the end of a relationship or when, because of death, you've had to say goodbye to the person you love most in this world. That's why I think Paul encourages us to "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." I don't believe any of us are meant to get through this world on our own... we need each other. That's why we have families, friends, and one another here in the church.

It's so tempting to do it our own way instead of Jesus' way. That's what happened to Peter in our Gospel reading. He loved Jesus, and didn't want him to suffer. No, Peter had his own ideas about how Jesus should be the Messiah. Jesus would go to Jerusalem on a white charger with trumpets blaring and crush those in political, economic, and religious power. Jesus used the harshest words ever directed toward one of his disciples: "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me." It would never have occurred to Peter that instead of a white charger, Jesus would be riding a donkey... instead of trumpets blaring, there would only be the voices of children crying "Hosanna". Peter was echoing the same temptation to choose the easy way that the voice of Satan had tried with Jesus during his temptation in the wilderness.

In Luke 4: "Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, 'If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, "He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you," and "On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone."'"

Just a note here: Even Satan can quote Scripture.

Trinity with the courthouse in the background

Herod's Temple was one of the larger construction projects of the 1st century BCE. It was the equivalent of a nine to twelve story building – Twice as tall as the new courthouse next door to our church. I don't like heights. Hanging my Christmas lights every year from the pinnacle of my little one-story house is an adventure in the wonders of the Christmas spirit, punctuated by moments of sheer terror. It makes my palms sweat to think of standing on the pinnacle of something twice as tall as the courthouse. Priests, court officials, Roman guards, attendants, the entire nation of Israel came to the temple! It was the center of their universe. Oh, yeah. That would have been sweet! All Jesus would have had to do is... step off... and he would float gently to the ground upheld by angels, as everyone watched, and all bowed. Hey! Beats the heck out of three years on the road preaching and teaching, getting rejected, and eventually crucified.

But, for your sake, and for my sake... for the world's sake, Jesus made the hard choice instead of the easy one. He made the hard choice for himself to help us find our way, to not lose ourselves, our souls... to set us free. He taught that if we are to follow him, we too must be ready to make hard choices instead of easy ones so we can help others find their way; to set others free. Jesus never expected you or me to be him... he only asked that we try to be like him... make just a few more of those hard choices to look outside ourselves and see all the people who are hurting... losing their way in this world, losing who they are, forgetting how very precious and beloved of God they are. There are so many people we encounter every day of our lives, who are discouraged, beat down, hurting; enslaved every bit as much as were Moses' people in Egypt. And if we can make that Moses choice... that hard choice to forget our own busyness and problems and see, truly see others... and allow our hearts to be open to them. By a kind word, by our forgiveness, by a gentle touch of faith, we can lighten their load, we can help set them free. And little by little, day by day as we practice losing our own lives, letting go, and instead, focusing on freeing others, we’ll wake up one morning surprised to discover that, just as Jesus promised, we have gained the best life of all.

I think Demetrius Dumm, a Benedictine monk, said it best: “Sometimes,” he said, “I think the only question we will be asked at the Last Judgment will be, quite simply, 'Were you a Pharaoh or a Moses... did you leave others in slavery, or... Did you let my people go?”

Blessings from today…

2011-07-03T20:41:00.000-07:00

A beautiful walk this morning with the sun just coming up over the mountains.
I finally cleaned out the inside of my car yesterday, and so I didn't feel like I was driving to church in a mobile trash heap.
The kids were fun at the 9:00 AM service, and a parent did a great job on the story!
Folks were enthusiastic about both the liturgy and the Fourth of July at the 10:30 service.
The Port of Subs kids got the giggles when they saw a priest at their drive-up window at lunchtime. I forgot to take my collar off before stopping.
A great mesquite grilled chicken sandwich!
A nap!
Evening prayer.
Spending time practicing my cello this evening. Fred and I are actually getting better (Yes, I named my cello Fred.)
Getting a head start on next week's sermon!
A gentle summer evening with a nice breeze.

I've never wanted an IPad... until now.

2011-05-24T08:01:00.000-07:00

IPad and Android Tablet games for cats have been released. I just pray my cats haven't seen this video.

The Darker Side of the Rapture

2011-05-20T19:05:00.000-07:00

Certainly we've seen the sad and the humorous sides to the whole Rapture prediction business, but this article in the Washington Post today delves into the dark history of End-of-the-World predictions and what it does to the followers.

Click here ► If the end of the world is not on May 21, what will Camping’s followers do?

The Rapture: Yearning for Home

2011-05-19T22:15:00.000-07:00

It’s easy to make fun of the folks planning to be swept up in the Rapture tomorrow. The media attention has been unrelenting. I even understand there are supposed businesses that will take care of your pets when you’re raptured… for a small fee. I got caught up in the silliness this evening as I chuckled and clicked “Like” next to a friend’s status on Facebook where it seems he’s planning to attend a “Post-rapture Looting” event to snag some sweet stereo equipment. I’m always amazed people don’t know that the Rapture and in fact the entire kettle of strange end-times fish are rather recent innovations that appeared in the 1800’s, but have never been part of historical Christian teaching.

But I wonder… what causes people to buy into what appears to be a burgeoning industry of predicting the end of the world? If we stop dismissing these folks long enough to really look at them, I suspect we would find something we can recognize in each of us: the yearning for home… the yearning for certainty in a very uncertain world. How comforting to know when that ticket home can be expected! How humanly gratifying to also see all the bad guys get their comeuppance and the good guys (you being one of them, of course) win the grand prize, eternal bliss! I understand yearning for home. I understand getting weary of all the vagaries of life. And I love Bruce Willis and Clint Eastwood films where the bad guys get what’s coming to them. I get it.

With understanding comes just a bit of sympathy. I believe in heaven – oh, probably not like most people imagine it, but I do believe in that time outside of time and place outside of all places where things get fixed. I believe that God is in the process of drawing all things back into God’s self. There are rough days where I really yearn for this time where no kids will ever be hurt again, where no one will have to die, and where I will both know and be fully known. Yet, I know the kingdom is here; it is among us; there’s work to do. Jesus never promised it wouldn’t storm, he just promised he’d stay in the boat with us – we’re never alone. That’s why the incarnation was so important. That’s why he became fully human, while remaining fully God.

There are likely to be a lot of disappointed and surprised people come Saturday. The media is going to be tough on them. I hope they don’t lose their faith over it, but I hope their faith matures. Their only crime is gullibility. But I understand their yearnings. I want the world set to rights too. I yearn for home. And if we’re honest, I suspect we’ve all had times where, like St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 16, we’ve whispered the word Maranatha! – Our Lord, come!

Sermon Prep Haiku

2011-05-16T21:32:00.000-07:00

Sermon prep for hours

Only to show once again

You are the beloved.

A Grown-Up Jesus

2011-04-23T08:43:00.000-07:00

There are things I used to believe when I was young: For every question in life there was one right answer; I could do anything; my father was not very smart; everybody would naturally like me; and probably… just probably, I was secretly the heir to the British throne and my parents were really just foster parents.

As I grew up, I had to learn some hard truths: Don and Joyce in Sparks, Nevada were my real parents; no matter what I do, amazingly, not everyone is going to like me; my father was actually pretty smart; I have limits: limits of strength and stamina and interest – I can't do everything. I actually need other people, and; for every question in life there are probably somewhere between five and a hundred right answers. And my right answer doesn't have to be yours.

I spent a lot of time thinking about God when I was young. I fell in love with the baby Jesus in the manger, and the young boy Jesus asking questions and listening to answers in the Temple, and gentle Jesus who was the kind and good Shepherd. Because I loved Him, in a few short years I decided I would follow Him always because: If you follow God you'd always be happy; bad things only happen to sinners; if I just prayed hard enough and long enough God would fix anything for me… the way I wanted it fixed, and; I would always be a good person.

But then as I grew older, what I was actually experiencing in my life didn't match these beliefs: I wasn't always happy; I saw bad things happening to good people… and people I loved died; There were things in my life that I prayed hard and long about that never changed; and I learned I was not always a good person. I learned I could be cruel and thoughtless and selfish.

Slowly, without realizing it, the boy Jesus was no longer enough for me. Jesus the kind and good Shepherd was no longer enough for me. The questions I was facing in my life were too hard. I had grown up… and I needed a grown-up Jesus. I'll bet you experienced the exact same thing in your life as you grew up.

The same kind of thing happened to Jesus' disciples. There were things they used to believe. They used to think that it mattered which of them was the greatest and Jesus rebuked them in Mark 9:

He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, ‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’

They believed Jesus would never experience defeat or suffering as He foretold in Matthew 26:

And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, ‘God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.’ But he turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’

Once Jesus was dead, they thought the story was done… and then Jesus approached them on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24:

They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, ‘Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?’ He asked them, ‘What things?’ They replied, ‘The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place.’

Yes, the disciples had some beliefs they had to grow out of. They had to grow up pretty fast in the last three days of what we now call Holy Week. What they thought they knew about life and death and power was turned upside down. They learned bad things happen to good people too. They learned that they were not always good people… they deserted him… they denied him. They learned they should've listened to the women. The four gospels were written for four very different Christian communities over a 30- to 40-year period, and in each one of them the women are named as witnesses to the resurrection.

But they also learned they did not have to be afraid anymore. In John 20, they learned they had power within themselves to lead:

… the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’

They had to learn that however things appeared on the surface, God was still in control.

The disciples needed a grown-up Jesus. I need a grown up Jesus. We all need a grown-up Jesus: A Jesus who really knows what it means to suffer, a grown-up Jesus who knows what it is to lose someone they love, a Jesus who knows what it feels like to be afraid. We all need a Jesus who knows what it feels like when the plans you made for your life burn to the ground and you're sifting through the ashes wondering what in heaven’s name you are going to do next.

Only in the Gospel of Matthew do we find the story of Jesus' death and resurrection framed by two great earthquakes: One when he died on Friday, and one when the stone was rolled away on Sunday. The disciples were quaking and afraid, locked in that upper room, and Jesus came to them and told them they no longer needed to be afraid. You see, the rules were changed on Easter morning. No longer would death have the last word. No longer would suffering be all there was. No longer would human beings have to live in fear because Jesus – the grown-up Jesus –had overcome all of these things! He pulled back the curtain and showed us that no matter what the world throws at us, no matter how we suffer, we are not alone. By rising again he showed us that love cannot be conquered. Bracketed between two physical earthquakes the greatest earthquake of all time – Jesus' resurrection – changed everything. Our world has never been the same.

Two thousand years have come and gone since the sun began to rise over old Jerusalem and the women came to the tomb that Easter morning. Two thousand years have come and gone since the Angel of God dressed in lightning rolled away the stone and tough battle-hardened Roman guards fell to the ground in mortal terror. Two thousand years have come and gone since they tried to make sure Jesus never walked this earth again, but they failed… and he stepped into that locked upper room and said, "Peace be with you."

Two thousand years have come and gone, and yet, the resurrection is still being reported by people who've been able to catch a glimpse of the risen Jesus in the midst of human life. He has been seen in the streets of Port-au-Prince, Haiti in the eyes of those who suffer. He has been seen in the compassion shown by neighbors helping others during the recent fifteen-state tornado devastation. He has been heard in the cries for justice and basic human rights and dignity for all of God's children that have echoed from every corner of our globe: From Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Theresa in India

to Martin Luther King in America to Aung San Suu Kyi in modern-day Myanmar. Sometimes it's just a glimpse: A look, a brief moment. Sometimes just his hands appear. And they say those hands look remarkably like yours and mine.

Simon's Cat in "Hop It"

2011-04-21T22:26:00.000-07:00

click here for more

I'll get back to serious stuff like working on my sermon for the Easter Vigil tomorrow. I just had to take a break for a blog post when I found out that genius, Simon Tofield, has posted another video to his Simon's Cat series entitled "Hop It". As you might have guessed, a bunny is prominently featured, matching wits with his cat. Happy Easter (almost!)

Ride on, King Jesus!

2011-04-17T14:02:00.000-07:00

Now here's the way to do Palm Sunday right!

The Poetry of Holy Week

2011-04-16T21:06:00.000-07:00

     Richard R. Niebuhr once said, "Pilgrims are poets who create by taking journeys." This week, Holy Week, we are invited to create poetry in our lives by taking such a journey.

     For over 2000 years, Christians have relived the events of Jesus' last week, beginning with Palm Sunday and Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem, continuing into Maundy Thursday where we have Jesus establishing what we call the Lord's Supper and the giving of the great mandate – in Latin, mandatum, from which we get the word Maundy – Jesus' great command: Love one another. This is where we wash one another's feet as Jesus did. Friday, we come to the day of his crucifixion – Good Friday. It sounds odd to our modern ears, but it's the word "good" in the ancient sense of "holy." And then, from sorrow to joy: The Great Vigil of Easter on Saturday night.

     I think there's a huge difference between reliving an event and merely reenacting an event. If you reenact something, you're acting out something that someone else lived, like Civil War reenactments: You weren't actually in the Civil War; you're just acting out a piece of history. But since what we have in Holy Week is nothing less than the battle between good and evil, life and death, and life again, we are not acting out something from someone else's life. We are living again something that is part of all of our journeys. We are not disinterested observers: We have a vital stake in the outcome of this week. We have a vital stake in the outcome of the issues of good and evil; life and death… and life again.

     As I live my own life, every year I journey through Holy Week, I can see myself as someone different. Some years, I seem closer to poor Peter denying the Lord three times, but then weeping bitter tears. Some years, I identify more with the women waiting at the tomb for the risen Christ as I wait for change in my life. Some years, I can see myself as the High Priest Caiaphas protecting my turf. Some years, I am Jesus himself. It seems that where I am in my own understanding of good and evil – life and death and life again – changes how I live Holy Week.

     Now, I would love just to take a shortcut and get to Easter without having to watch Jesus suffer, without having to re-examine my own life; without having to admit that many times in my own life I would have been one in the crowd crying out, "Crucify him!" But if I look away, I won't see what it looks like to live fully human and yet fully divine as God intended. I have to look, not to see some kind of a bloody sacrifice required by God, but to see God demonstrating what it means to truly love.

     Write poetry this week… Richard Niebuhr says pilgrims do that by taking journeys. We're going to be traveling some dark roads. The streets of old Jerusalem are narrow, and the crowds from all over the world are sure to grow larger as we go. There will be the chaos and confusion of other pilgrims from our day, and fellow pilgrims from past centuries. Know without a doubt that you journey this week from darkness toward the light. But we also know, you cannot take this journey… you cannot write this particular piece of poetry… and remain unchanged.

No, you fools! Not yet!

2011-04-15T12:27:00.000-07:00

lilacs budding in the snow

Every year, it seems like trees and flowers are tricked into budding early by a few days of unseasonably warm weather. We had a warm spell about three weeks ago followed by a week of on and off again snow. Walking out to feed the birds, I noticed my lilacs were getting ready to burst into blossom. "No you fools! Not yet!" I cried.

Lilacs are a hardy flowering bush, beloved of the early pioneers probably because few other flowers grew well in our desert climate and sandy soil. You can find their clusters of purple flowers and delicate scent in almost all the older yards in Nevada. If there's just a little water, you'll still find them flourishing near anywhere the pioneers settled.

Peavine

The tradition in the valley is you don't plant until all the snow is off Peavine Mountain northwest of Reno. Peavine only climbs to an elevation of about 8, 000 feet, much lower than the summits of the Sierra Nevadas to the West which reach 10,000 to 11,000 feet. Its lower elevation is a good barometer of how spring is shaping up. Trust me, there is still a lot of snow up on Peavine, no matter how warm it feels here in the valley. My poor lilacs, however, don't seem to know or care about this particular piece of local horticultural wisdom.

what I hope my lilacs will look like this summer

Desert Island Joke

2011-04-14T06:30:00.000-07:00

     Given the way people in America tend to both church shop and break off to form their own churches, I thought the following joke was hilarious. I heard it at our church fundraiser told by a woman in our congregation. Maybe it's an old chestnut, but I'd never heard it before.
     A man is rescued after many years on a desert island. As he stands on the deck of the rescuing vessel, the captain says to him, "I thought you were stranded alone. How come I can see three huts on the beach?"

     "Well," replies the castaway, "that one there is my house and that one there is where I go to church."

     "And the third one?" asks the skipper.

     "Oh, that's the church I used to go to."

Disconnecting the Landline

2011-04-13T16:42:00.000-07:00

     The one thing that has always kept me from discontinuing my landline and using my cell phone alone has been the fact that I didn't want to have to hunt all over the house for my ringing cell phone, which is usually in the charger, and then try to unplug it, swipe the screen to open the pad, and answer the phone – by then my caller would have long gone to voicemail. I guess I'm part of a generation that likes to pick up when friends and family call, if I can. I checked around assuming someone had invented a device to connect my cell phone to my house phones. My local Best Buy, the RadioShack, and even my cell phone carrier, had never heard of any such technology. The local Radio Shack guy was so cocky about his own knowledge he said that such a thing didn't exist. On my own, I finally found it, and it was an inexpensive solution.

     The new Cobra Phonelynx, which is only $35.00 at Amazon.com, was easy to set up: plug-in the power for the Cobra unit, unplug your phone from the wall and plug it into the side of the Cobra Phonelynx . It paired effortlessly to the Bluetooth on my cell phone, a first-generation Droid. I now have my cell phone charging right next to the Cobra unit, and have found call clarity to be excellent on all four of my regular cordless home handsets. Caller ID works too. When you make a call from one of your home phones, you press talk and get a real dial tone, then after you dial there is a short delay and then a beep which signals your cell phone is dialing the number.

     When I am away from home, I turn off the Bluetooth on my cell phone to save the battery; later, coming in from the garage, I turn on the Bluetooth again and within 30 to 45 seconds, the PhoneLynx has automatically reconnected, and all my home phones are ready to both make and receive calls.

      I contacted my cell phone provider and increased my minutes since I'd be using my cell phone for all calls, but after cancelling my basic AT&T connection, there was a net savings on my phone expenses every month. I purchased this thinking, "Oh well, if it doesn't work, I've only wasted $35," but have ended up so pleasantly surprised to have gotten such a great piece of technology, and at such a low price! It's rare when adopting new technology saves money; new technology usually ends up costing more.

     I've also been careful to alert my daughter when she comes into the house that she needs to use her cell phone to make a call if I'm gone, since the house phones will be dead. The Cobra Phonelynx can pair with two cell phones, but when I offered to pair her cell phone to my house phone using the Cobra unit, she didn't want her personal calls from her friends coming through the house phone where I might pick them up. Huh, go figure. I thought kids liked new technology.

Cute Roulette

2011-04-09T21:26:00.000-07:00

Stressed? Depressed? Generally out of sorts? I'm not sure the average parishioner understands how tough it is being a parish priest. Don't despair, there's a new website that will take care of your stress in just minutes. Cute Roulette shows you a random video of unbelievably adorable penguins, kitties, puppies, baby goats, etc. doing those incredibly cute penguin-kitty-puppy-baby goat things that makes even the most cynical and snarky of us go, "Awwww!" After you watch the lovable video, just click the "Next Cuteness" arrow for another.

If you're not a priest, but laity, you deserve stress relief too, but you're probably able to figure out how long you'll need to watch the videos on your own. Priests, however, tend to need some direction (just ask the Bishop). So, if you're a priest and you're not sure how much time you need to spend on Cute Roulette to relieve your stress, please refer to the handy table below:

Dove vs. Hawk

2011-04-07T22:22:00.000-07:00

a diving hawk

Out of the corner my eye I saw it streaking down out the slate blue sky. I was not even sure what it was until I saw it thunk heavily on a dove sitting quietly near one of my birdfeeders. It was a red tailed hawk. Without even thinking, I rushed to the back door and yelled, "You hawk! Leave my dove alone!" The hawk looked up startled to be yelled at and took off. The dove got up, shook itself, and seemed none the worse for its near-death experience.

I felt sheepish afterwards. Lord knows, hawks have to eat too, and I have no idea how the dove felt about being described as "my" dove. What I hadn't realized is those gentle doves that hang around my backyard had gotten to me. I kind of felt sorry for them. The little brown wrens bob all over the place frantically, the pigeons muscle out smaller birds, the blue jays stop by screaming loudly to get their fair share, and if I put out peanut butter suet, a type of blackbird stops by in flocks to devour it within half a day, but the poor dove will just sit and wait until everyone else is done and then quietly munch on whatever seeds are left. If I get behind in filling the birdfeeder, the wrens go looking elsewhere, the blue jays and the rest are long gone, but not the doves. They'll hunker down underneath the birdfeeders and kind of look at my back window with mournful eyes. Sometimes they'll get up on the roof, and I'll hear their sad cries reminding me I've neglected them. It may take me awhile to get to filling the birdfeeders, but still, they stay, waiting patiently.

Isn't it remarkable that of all the birds God could've chosen to symbolize the Spirit, he chose a dove in Matthew 3?

And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.

I sometimes get the impression that a lot of Christians would prefer to see the Spirit as a hawk – diving, attacking, strong. Instead, God chose the dove, the gentlest of creatures. If I am to let the Spirit do its work in my life, perhaps I need to stop looking for dramatic changes radiating power and drama, and instead accept the gentleness, the quiet, the faithfulness of the dove.

doves on the fence, huddling together for warmth

The Anglican Communion: Pace of the Slowest Hiker or a Campfire?

2011-04-03T22:22:00.000-07:00

     If you've not heard of the Anglican Communion, it includes churches that trace their lineage back to the Church of England such as the Episcopal Church in the United States. Some of what could be termed the more conservative national churches in the Communion think the Episcopal Church is a bit too progressive: we ordain women, we make them bishops, we do the same for those who are gay, we welcome all to the table of the Lord. We take that part of the baptismal covenant seriously that says we will "respect the dignity of every human being." It's kind of radical, and I guess it makes some people uncomfortable.

     Metaphors do not prove facts, but sometimes the illustrations we adopt can help explain our own inner truths. Perhaps without realizing we have done so, the Episcopal Church and other parts of the Communion are living different metaphors to explain to themselves and our joint life in Christ.

     When hiking in the Sierra Nevada Mountains that shelter my little valley, there is a safety rule that says the pace of the hike is always the pace of the slowest hiker - that way, no one will be left behind. This seems to be the metaphor the Archbishop of Canterbury, as one of the leaders of the Anglican Communion, has adopted. He wants the Episcopal Church to wait, to not officially recognize the gifts all people bring to the church, to delay justice until most everyone can agree. I'm sure it's a very safe metaphor to live.

I wonder, however, if there is not a different hiking metaphor that explains our attitude in the Episcopal Church: the campfire circle. We all gather round – those who took today's hike quickly; those who walked slowly. We're all bound together because we were on the same journey. It doesn't matter that your story or your pace is not the same as my own – in fact, it is the different stories that make our evening around the campfire all the more interesting and magical. The campfire crackles and snaps, and a million stars wheel overhead, and my journey is made all the richer because I've heard how it looked to you.

Urban Legends and Bad Teachers

2011-03-20T19:43:00.000-07:00

     I'm surprised at how many people believe it's impossible to terminate an incompetent teacher because of the work of unions. This seems to be one of those urban legends that has taken on a life of its own. The fact is all a teachers' association can guarantee is due process, not a job – I can tell you that as former president of both a local and state teachers' association. For employers who wish to behave like monarchs ("Off with their heads!") yes, it is frustrating for them to have to justify and document their treatment of a professional educator. Due process is, however, something we give the lowest criminal in our society, how much more our teachers? Schools are not improved and children are not served by autocrats being able to fire on a whim. Has this urban legend grown simply because the average American has gotten so used to employers being able to show anyone the door for any reason, at any time, without notice? No chance of improvement; no discussion; you're gone. The discussion should not be whether teachers deserve a fair hearing in their employment, but whether all employees should be given such justice.

     Having taught for thirty years, I also have a unique perspective on the second part of this urban legend that says there are legions of "bad" teachers out there. First, I'd admit there are some, but truly not as many as you'd think; most really care and give their all for their students. Many of those we might term as "poor" teachers are simply in need of help in the form of a mentor or additional training. It's only a very small percentage that truly should leave the profession (I have, by the way, found these same percentages to hold true for most professions.) Second, if we fired every teacher someone at some point thought was bad, we'd have none. In my thirty-year career, I've had individual parents claim I was not fit for the classroom because: a) I insisted a child in 6th Grade do his homework; b) A girl got her first "B" on her report card; c) A boy was given detention for climbing the roof of the school, tearing off shingles, and throwing them at children below, and my personal favorite; d) I put a sticker that said "Good Work!" on a child's paper (The parent believed all rewards should be intrinsic. The parent went straight to the principal and demanded I be terminated. When he would not, she pulled her child out of school!) And I am one of those teachers who received top marks in every competency area that exists on my evaluation over all these years. With everyone being self-appointed experts on when teachers should be terminated, no wonder "everyone" knows there are "lots" of "bad" teachers out there.

     More insidious is the toll all of this is taking on good teachers. Last Friday I went out with some colleagues from my former school. These are people who spend their weekends at school; people who are awake nights worrying about their students. It was sad to see the discouragement among them. Teaching is a difficult enough job without being afraid to turn on your evening news or open your daily newspaper. No matter what they do, it's not good enough. They are treated poorly not just in the public press, but by their administrators who think if they just pile on more testing, statistics, regulations, and E-mails they will improve education or at least keep their own jobs and be able to show their teachers who's in charge. You see good teachers care – it is their ability to empathize that makes them what they are. And so when we attack, belittle, and degrade their profession and them personally, we kill off a small piece of each of their hearts. By participating in the urban myth, we are collectively pulling down public education and the good people who serve our nation's children.

Simon's Cat in "Sticky Tape"

2011-03-03T09:24:00.000-08:00

Another wonderfully silly video from Simon Tofield!

But now for the darker side. All cat owners (read "cat staff members") recognize the main reason we are tolerated by our furry overlords is because of our opposable-thumb-can-opening-ability thingie. But... what if cats had opposable thumbs... and formed gangs?

Lake Tahoe at Night

2011-02-26T12:18:00.000-08:00

Lake Tahoe is just a short drive up the mountains from Reno. Nevada's not just desert, but also beautiful mountain lakes.

Who's a Clever Duck? I'm a Clever Duck!

2011-02-16T10:23:00.001-08:00

Having been retired from teaching about nine months, I admit I miss joking and talking with the kids. What I don't miss, however, is my stomach clenching when I would see the weather forecast on the evening news. If there was rain or snow predicted, it meant a terrible forty-five minute commute, and a rough day. Today, it's snowing, school's delayed, and you just know we would have to keep the kids in at lunch and recess, effectively cancelling any private or quiet time. I would be condemned to sitting in a box all day surrounded by the aromas and noise of wet, hyper eleven-year-olds. So, I woke up this morning, saw the blizzard conditions outside, and said to myself, "Who's a clever duck? I'm a clever duck!" I get to relax at home with my second cup of coffee (OK, my seventh cup of coffee, but who's counting?), and enjoy my birds in the winter wonderland outside my window! I'm feeling terribly, terribly clever.

Seeing Others

2011-02-16T05:55:00.000-08:00

     You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not murder”; and “whoever murders shall be liable to judgement.” But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgement… You have heard that it was said, “You shall not commit adultery.” But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart… It was also said, “Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.” But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery… Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.” But I say to you, Do not swear at all…
               – Matthew 5:21-37
               [Click here to read entire passage.]

     Some days it's great to be a priest!

     Like when you get assigned to preach the day before Valentine's Day – you know: love, hearts, chocolate – and the Gospel is the one where Jesus talks about anger, murder, lust, adultery, divorce, and swearing.

     Jesus wasn't afraid to tackle the tough questions.

     These are not comfortable topics to address, but I think Jesus saw a common thread between them all. If you think about it, each of these topics is about our sight. They're all about how we see others. How we see others determines how we treat them when we're angry with them; when our hormones take over; when our relationships go bad; when we're called on to tell the truth.

     We are in the season of Epiphany, the season of light, shouldn't we be able to see things more clearly? In that new light, Jesus calls us to see things clearly. The subjects of anger, murder, lust, divorce, adultery, and oaths were just as tough in Jesus' day as they are in our own.

     In a way, Jesus seems to be saying all murder is premeditated in the sense that it begins with what we do with our anger. Anger in it of itself is a natural human emotion, but how we deal with our anger, how we channel it, how we let go of it, is our task as Christians. Jesus said our anger with our fellow human beings interferes with our relationship with God:

So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.
– Matthew 5:23, 24

     In ancient Israel, a woman was considered to be the property of her father and then her husband; thus adultery was a violation of the husband’s property rights. Jesus was dealing not just with God's laws, but the laws in place in his country at that time. A man could decide he didn't want his wife and just dump her, and she had to find a way to fend for herself in a culture that pretty much only gave her and her children two options: begging on the streets or prostitution. Can you imagine the startled looks on the faces of the men and, at the same time, the joy on the faces of the women and children in his audience? I would loved to have watched Jesus' audience: the men with the mouths dropping open, and the women in the audience saying, "I think I like this guy!"

     Divorce in Jesus' day was nothing like what we experience today. But, before we get too comfortable thinking this doesn't apply to us, I think we have to admit there is a clear principle that when relationships go south, we are still responsible to treat the other person with dignity and respect. And if there are children involved in that relationship, we are absolutely responsible for their welfare.

     Having to take an oath presumes you're not going to tell the truth unless you're forced to do so. Recently in Virginia there was a case where a man was arrested for not stopping for a school bus with its lights flashing, stop sign out, and kids unloading. The case was thrown out because he found an error in the way the law was written. The law said "a car shall stop a school bus" instead of "a car shall stop FOR a school bus". It was a typo. The guy knew he had done wrong but he went after the letter of the law to find a way out.

     Many have tried to isolate sections of these teachings about adultery, divorce, taking an oath, and even cutting off your hand or putting out your eye and force it to have a literal application today. But Jesus was not a legislator and in this twilight world he gave us not a law but a Spirit to live by — the spirit of an informed and understanding love that sees our fellow human beings made in the image of God.

     Mark Twain said, "It is not those parts of the Bible that I do not understand that bother me. It is the parts of the Bible that I do understand that bother me the most." I am responsible for how I handle my anger. I am responsible that all my relationships are to be based on mutual respect and not exploitation. I am responsible to consider the needs of others. I am responsible to be honest.

     Sometimes this light and improved sight comes slowly. In America, we understand that it sometimes takes a long time to see others clearly as fellow human beings made in the image of God. It wasn't until 1792, people who were not Protestants like Jews, Quakers, and Catholics could vote in America, 16 years after our founding. Slavery was finally done away with in 1865, 89 years after the founding of America. Women got the vote in 1920, 144 years after the founding of America. Discrimination against other human beings – whether because of their race, gender, religious faith, sexual orientation, age, or any of a hundred different ways we human beings define "us" and "them" – sadly continues.

     Today, in the Episcopal calendar, we commemorate Absalom Jones, the first African-American to become a priest in the Episcopal Church in 1802. Absalom Jones has a tale to tell us about seeing your fellow human beings clearly.

     Long before he became a priest, he was a lay reader and lay evangelist at St. George's Methodist Episcopal church in Philadelphia. Unfortunately, he did his job too well... the number of African Americans who attended St. George's increased dramatically. The vestry was alarmed, and had a balcony built to segregate the African Americans without telling anyone. On a Sunday in November of 1787, three short years after he had purchased his own freedom from slavery, Jones and his friend Allen knelt for prayer in their usual pew, and the sexton collared Jones and tried to pull him to his feet during opening prayers. The Blacks walked out in a body. He and others left and went on to found St. Thomas African Episcopal Church.

     In 1793, the first wave of a disastrous epidemic of yellow fever hit Philadelphia. 20,000 citizens fled to the countryside during this time, including George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and other members of the federal government (at that time headquartered in Philadelphia), but Absalom and his congregation weren't going anywhere. They stayed. Under Absalom's leadership, Philadelphia's black community put aside their resentment and dedicated themselves to working with the sick and dying in all capacities, as nurses, cart drivers, and grave diggers. In 1793, Philadelphia was the largest city in the United States with more than 50,000 residents. By the end of the summer of 1793, one-tenth of the population of Philadelphia had died. Almost 300 of Absalom's congregation died of yellow fever ministering to white and black alike during this epidemic. In 1794, one year later, the St. Thomas African Episcopal Church was received into the Episcopal church, and we became all the richer for their presence among us.

     Jesus frees us from the bondage of old ways of seeing people as "us" and "them". Jesus calls us into the light so that we may see ourselves and others clearly; so, we will be compassionate in our dealings with one another, honest, humble.

     Absalom Jones was speaking of slavery, but his words ring true today as we still struggle as Americans and as citizens of the world to treat our fellow human beings with dignity, love, and compassion. He said,

"Arise out of the dust and throw off that servile fear, that the habit of oppression and bondage trained us up in … and in meekness and fear… desire to walk in the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free."

Amen.

– Sermon delivered Sunday, February 13, 2011, at Trinity Episcopal Church, Reno, NV.

It's OK to be a cat guy!

2011-02-14T12:35:00.000-08:00

Although I style myself the "Man of the House," it's probably not a secret I'm actually ruled by the firm, yet gentle paws of my two cats. You might think I'm a pushover, but check out this biker in the video. Don't mess with us cat guys – we're pretty tough customers.

The 7 Best and Worst Things about Being an Episcopal Priest

2011-02-02T07:36:00.001-08:00

7 Best Things About Being an Episcopal Priest:

     1. You don't have to think too hard about what you're going to wear to church. ("I think I'll wear black today. Yes, black… with a white collar.")
     2. People think your G-rated jokes are actually funny. Corollary: If you tell an off-color joke (privately, of course, to personal friends) it will have them rolling on the floor practically wetting their pants because they can't imagine a priest would tell such a joke.
     3. Celibacy is optional!
     4. If it's cold in the church, you're ready since you're already dressed in layers. (If you're not warm enough, throw on an extra chausible; it may look odd, but you'll be warmer, and people will simply think you're extremely Anglo-Catholic.)
     5. When you really mean, "No, I don't want to do it," you can say, "I'll pray about it," and people will really accept it. You can both get out of the task and be seen as quite holy at the same time.
     6. If you're invited to a black-tie event, you don't have to rent a tuxedo, you can just wear what you wore on Sunday – your uniform is considered formalwear.
     7. You get Mondays off!

7 Worst Things About Being an Episcopal Priest:

     1. When you took your vows, there was that dreadful phrase in them: "…and you will take your seat in the councils of the Church." That means committee work!
     2. It's awkward to go on a first date ("So, what you do for a living?")
     3. People constantly apologize to you every time they swear. (Like I haven't heard that word before.)
     4. You're never supposed to be sick or cranky.
     5. You can't cry at a funeral you're conducting, even if you really need to.
     6. People assume you don't have a personal life.
     7. You can't cut people off in traffic, especially when you have that bumper sticker that says, "The Episcopal Church welcomes you!"

     Feel free to add your own best and worst things about being an Episcopal priest in the comments!

Our Greatest Enemy

2011-01-31T10:31:00.001-08:00

"Have mercy on me, O God, for my enemies are hounding me; all day long they assault and oppress me…"
– Psalm 56:1

Using the Daily Office from the Book of Common Prayer for both morning and evening prayer has been my spiritual practice for many years. You go through the entire Old Testament in the year, twice through the New Testament, and the complete book of Psalms spins by at a dizzying pace every month. Frequently in the Psalms, there is talk of "enemies": Enemies who oppress us; enemies who plot against us; enemies who wish to take our lives. I've always had a hard time with this kind of talk. Jesus said that we are to pray for our enemies, not beg God that their blood be running in the gutters. So, I get to a Psalm this morning that is all about enemies, and I really can't think of any. Maybe I can think of hypothetical enemies such as vague terrorists plotting half a world away, but I don't want them destroyed; I pray for their hearts to soften and for the unjust social structures, such as grinding poverty and loss of hope that give rise to terrorism, to be undone. It isn't that I can't think of people in my life who don't care for me – Lord knows I'm an acquired taste; part of achieving maturity is recognizing that not everyone is going to think I'm wonderful. Still, I would never describe such people as "enemies".

But I do have enemies I deal with on a daily basis that "hound, assault, and oppress me all day long." It would be so much easier if they were the kind of enemies you could punch in the mouth, but they're not. My most fearsome enemies are the voices of that dire Greek chorus in my head. You know the Greek choruses? When a hero in ancient Greek plays was about to attempt something heroic, the oh-so-helpful chorus behind him would be singing something cheery like, "He's going to fail! He's going to die horribly!" A great way to add suspense to a theater production, but a lousy way to live your life. I suspect we all live with those Greek choruses in our heads. You go through your day, and they manage to fit in a nice little musical interlude whenever you try to make positive plans. It goes something like this:

      "I've really got to get back on my diet today."
           "You're going to fail again! O, you're going to fail again! Geez, what a fatso!"

     "I need to apologize to Michael. I was kind of short with him this weekend."
           "You're a horrible person! O, you're a horrible person! How can you be so horrible?!"

     "I can't believe I didn't get the laundry done today. Oh well, I'll get it done tomorrow."
           "You're so lazy! O, you're so lazy! And did we mention you're a fatso?!"

It sounds ridiculous writing it out like that, but I'll bet if most of us would admit it, we say these kind of things to ourselves and probably even worse things.

So when I read Psalm 56 this morning, and think of my real enemies, the Greek chorus in my head, it really seems to make more sense:

"They hound me all the day long; truly there are many who fight against me, O Most High. Whenever I am afraid, I will put my trust in you… All day long they damage my cause; their only thought is to do me evil… You have noted my lamentation; put my tears in your bottle; are they not recorded in your book? Whenever I call upon you, my enemies will be put to flight, this I know, for God is on my side."

As God calls us day by day into His light, and invites us to see ourselves and others more and more as made in His image, it is truly the Greek chorus that is our greatest enemy.

A Gentle Soul Gone Home

2011-01-31T08:07:00.000-08:00

     This morning, I heard of the passing of Sam Caldwell, a priest in our diocese. Sam was a gentle soul who served at my church Trinity in Reno for many years after his retirement as rector in Carson City.

     He was a kind person who never took himself terribly seriously. I was in the choir for many years at Trinity before becoming a priest. Every Christmas Eve as we were preparing to process, Sam would tell the same joke to me privately. I suspect he told many others too. He'd come out of the sacristy splendid in his robes and cope, and lean over to me and mutter, "Years of seminary to be called Father, and here I am dressed as mother." He told the same joke every year, and I laughed every year. It didn't seem like Christmas Eve without Sam's joke. He left Trinity a number of years ago to go into retirement, but I still think of his gentle humor every Christmas Eve.

     Rest in peace, Sam. Rise in glory!

Nevada Sunsets

2011-01-27T20:43:00.000-08:00

There's something special about a Nevada sunset. The sheer lack of humidity in our desert climate seems to make the edges of the clouds sharper and the colors more vibrant. Ours are not the sunsets that fade into gray because of the reflected grime of a megalopolis, nor are they the gentle watercolor sunsets of Florida or the Hawaiian Islands. Nevada sunsets are defined and shot through with slashes of gold, fiery orange, deep red, and purple. They're the kind of sunsets you can ride off into at the end of the movie.

God, Dentistry, and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

2011-01-21T07:47:00.000-08:00

I hadn't read Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in years, but the prospect of having to spend a few hours in the dentist's chair over the past couple weeks, made me decide to buy the audiobook. It seemed like the perfect distraction to whatever would be going on in my mouth at the time.

We all think about the purpose and meaning of our lives, and the following dialogue between two of the characters in the book struck me:

     "The chances of finding out what's really going on in the universe are so remote, the only thing to do is hang the sense of it and keep yourself occupied... I'd far rather be happy than right any day."
     "And are you?"
     "No, that's where it all falls down, of course."
     "Pity, it sounded like quite a good lifestyle otherwise."

Life does seem completely chaotic and random at times, but in Morning Prayer today, the ancient prophet Isaiah had a different outlook:

For thus says the Lord,
who created the heavens
(he is God!),
who formed the earth and made it
(he established it;
he did not create it a chaos,
he formed it to be inhabited!):
I am the Lord, and there is no other.
I did not speak in secret,
in a land of darkness;
I did not say to the offspring of Jacob,
‘Seek me in chaos.’
I the Lord speak the truth,
I declare what is right.
– Isa. 45:18, 19

God seems to say to us in this passage, "No, I made the world to be what it is. Stop making it all so complicated. I didn't create a system where you have to wade through chaos to find me. I did not speak in the darkness. I am here with you. I always have been."

"We have flown the air like birds..."

2011-01-17T08:02:00.000-08:00

Why You Can't Go Straight

2011-01-10T12:29:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder why you have never been able to go straight no matter how hard you try? Me too. Thank goodness, here's NPR with the answer.

Pogonip Descends on Reno!

2011-01-07T23:59:00.001-08:00

Praise the Lord from the earth… hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling his command!
– Psalm 148:7, 8

     This morning, we awoke to find the valley shrouded in icy gray fog. Every pine tree, fencepost, and skeletal vine was covered in what we in the West call pogonip. Pogonip is our word for the rare ice fog that produces dramatic and beautiful spiked frost covering everything. It's almost like overnight, snowflakes were magnified a thousand times and then attached to everything, and now with your naked eye you can actually see their intricate crystalline structures. Conditions have to be just right for pogonip to form: temperatures have to be below freezing, and humidity has to be at about 100%, which is a rare occurrence in the high desert. It's a spectacular, yet eerie sight.

     The first Americans found it difficult to see any beauty in pogonip. The word comes from a Shoshone word meaning "white death" or "frozen death". The Washoe Indians who summered at Lake Tahoe, but wisely wintered here in the valley where it's usually warmer, often saw weaker or older persons in their tribe carried off by respiratory diseases during such extreme weather.

      Still, pogonip's delicate white splendor remains, and this morning's rush-hour seems somehow hushed… muted, as though even busy commuters recognize they are in the presence of some of God's finer handiwork.

Keepers of the Heart Know Words Become Bullets

2011-01-04T22:22:00.000-08:00

"For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person brings good things out of a good treasure, and the evil person brings evil things out of an evil treasure."
– Matthew 12:34,35

     Does it seem that more and more angry and hateful words uttered by people are becoming bullets? I'm not just talking about hateful and angry words spoken by a radical imam far off in the Middle East, but by people as part of our national daily dialogue. Here's a sample of what I mean:

• Angry words about immigrants from Mexico have now translated into increased deaths in Arizona: Link to Salon
• Hateful words about gays have directly translated into the deaths by suicide: Link to Dallas Voice
• Glenn Beck's hateful words about the Tide Foundation, an organization that facilitates charitable giving, almost ended in a blood bath: Link to Salon

      Yes, yes, I know all about the First Amendment. Still, I can't help but think of the words of Supreme Court Judge Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. in 1919: "The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man falsely shouting fire in a theater and causing a panic…" Have we really become a people who believe that because of the First Amendment nothing we might choose to say has any real consequence? Have we so forgotten the power of well-reasoned discourse and carefully chosen words that we believe the only effective remedies are "Second Amendment remedies"? When did we become so powerless as a people?

      Rather than try to reach back to a time of civility in American life and politics I'm not quite sure ever really existed, I would suggest the kind of angry tirades we hear on talk radio, from leaders in our government, from consumers who feel they have been wronged by a store or restaurant, from drivers irritated by traffic, and sadly sometimes even from our own mouths, are not in keeping with the Christian path.

"Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life." – Proverbs 4

We, as Christians, are to be keepers of the heart. If we want to change the world, it is not done with legislation or wars or sparkly new scientific inventions – it is done by changing hearts. The simplest barometer of the state of our hearts are the words we speak. I may not be able to change the tenor of the national dialogue, but I can be vigilant to keep watch over my own heart and encourage others to do the same. Oh, neither you nor I will ever do it perfectly, but it's a start. If those who are not Christians can't see any difference between the way we talk and the way everyone else talks, how then will they recognize us?

High Card Draw to Select a Bishop?

2010-12-31T10:00:00.000-08:00

     You know there is something that just feels right about living in a state like Nevada and knowing that one of the preferred methods in our constitution for deciding tied elections is high card draw.

     In one of our seventeen counties, Eureka, there was a tie in November for the position of County Clerk-Treasurer (Yes, we do have to double-up some of our positions in the small counties – what we refer to as the "cow" counties, even though Eureka is known more for mining.) This tie probably would not have occured had one of the candidates not asked for a recount. As a result, a couple ballots were added in and one ballot where both candidates were marked was allowed since the voter's intent was clear (He/she had written "Oops" next to one of the candidates.)

     Four new sealed decks were brought out on the day of the drawing. Jackie Berg, the incumbent, eliminated one deck and her opponent, Carrie Wright, eliminated another. A third deck was eliminated by a county commissioner, and then the remaining deck was ceremoniously shuffled and fanned by the manager of the Owl Club, a fine gaming establishment, in Eureka (Um, it's both the name of the county and the town, you see.) The incumbent ended up winning the draw with an eight of hearts; her GOP challenger drew only a three of hearts. Many Nevadans were delighted by the account in our newspapers here and here.

     Now, we are quite happy with our bishop, thank you very much, but I am curious, so I plan to look into Nevada's canons just to see how we handle a tie vote for bishop should it occur in the future. I mean we have a tradition of gambling to select representatives in both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. The high priest of Israel carried the "Urim and the Thummim" in his breastplate for tough decisions. Honestly, all they were was a pair of fancy dice (Ex. 28:30; Nu. 27:21). When selecting an apostle to replace Judas, the eleven apostles drew lots – who knows, a more careful look at the Koine Greek might reveal they actually did use a deck of cards to choose Matthias (Ac. 1:26). Instead of endless balloting for a bishop, and counting votes by order, we might as well welcome her/him to Nevada with a traditional high card draw. It's entertaining and, more importantly, it's biblical.

Simon's Cat in "Santa Claws"

2010-12-30T19:35:00.000-08:00

Of course my tree's not down. We're only on the sixth day of Christmas ("Geese alaying" for those of you keeping track.) I am, however, getting a little nervous about the outside Christmas lights since my pagan homeowner's association tends to send out notices threatening all sorts of draconian consequences unless lights are taken down – I kid you not. Don't these people realize it's not even Epiphany yet?! Besides... it's cold out... and the ladder's really high.

My cats have thoroughly enjoyed the season! For you cat lovers out there, here's a wonderful little video that answers that age-old math problem: CT + C = ? (Christmas Tree + Cat = ?)

A Digital Nativity

2010-12-22T08:12:00.000-08:00

If the Nativity took place with today's social media available! Enjoy!

The Time Change

2010-11-09T22:05:00.000-08:00

     I always used to be amused by people who, in the fall, said they were late to church because of the time change. My thoughts always ran along the lines of, "Hmm... shouldn't you be here an hour early then?" What I have come to realize as I mellow (now doesn't that sound so much nicer than aging?) is that being late during the fall change and being late when the clocks jump forward in the spring, although the same result, have completely different root causes.

     Being late in the spring is explained easily enough. We go along living our normal routines when all of a sudden – BANG! Do everything you are used to doing, and be everywhere you're expected to be, but do it on an hour's less sleep. Yes, I know I should have gone to bed an hour earlier the night before, but try to convince either your kids or your cats they should do so. No wonder people come into church the day after we spring forward looking a bit dazed.

     Its autumnal equivalent has a completely different anatomy. In the fall, people aren't late because they've lost an hour, but precisely because they've gained an hour. In the spring, the sun has already been assaulting your retinas earlier and earlier each day, so you might as well get up anyway. I mean, what's the use of fighting it? If you have kids they probably have been bouncing on your bed since 5:17 AM begging to hunt for Easter eggs anyway.

     Ah, but in the fall, you're wrapped in your warm dark cocoon dreaming, secure in the knowledge this particular Sunday morning, of all the Sunday mornings in the year, you can hit that snooze button two, maybe even three times without guilt or consequence. It may be my imagination, but it also seems that particular morning every year my coffee tastes especially smooth, seducing me with its Arabica goodness into taking everything just a little bit slower. Why rush? Life is the journey, not the destination.

     You float along in this pleasant fugue until you happen glance at the clock you so joyfully turned back one hour last night. As it comes slowly into focus and you do the math, you realize you now have precisely seven-and-a-half minutes to get in the shower and get on the road or you’re going to be late to church!

Traditional Japanese Fishermen’s Dance

2010-09-05T18:35:00.000-07:00

For those of you who think that life in Reno consists mainly of gambling, it is time to introduce you to some of the fine arts in our community. Every year, the University of Nevada in Reno holds a Japanese Festival where native Japanese, Japanese-Americans, and we curious westerners gather for authentic food, Taiko drumming, detailed traditional costumes, and dancing.

This year’s featured performance was of the traditional Japanese Fishermen’s dance called Sōran Bushi ( ソーラン節 ). It is said to have originated in the northern islands of Japan and imitates the movements of fishermen (fisherpersons?) as they gather in the catch. What you will see in the video is incredibly vibrant and athletic moves combined with an infectious, almost hard rock beat. It is probably a lot faster and more dynamic than the original Japanese folksong, but the audience loved it – and one doesn’t say that just because one’s daughter is one of the incredible dancers. All I know is if I started dancing the Sōran Bushi on a regular basis, I would be skinny as a rail… if I didn’t end up in traction first!

How to Be Alone

2010-08-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

"Almighty God, whose Son had nowhere to lay his head:
Grant that those who live alone may not be lonely in their
solitude, but that, following in his steps, they may find
fulfillment in loving you and their neighbors; through Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen." — Book of Common Prayer, p. 829

Learn From My Fail

2010-08-10T06:30:00.000-07:00

“He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.’” – Luke 14:35

Important Lawn Safety Tip: If you forget you went to the hardware store and bought four huge bags of manure compost for your lawn and leave them in the trunk of your car for a day during 90° weather, the next day when you remember to take them out, driving your car will still be like driving inside a giant steaming manure pile for the next week or so. You will be unable to use your air conditioning and have to drive with all windows down just so your breath doesn’t catch in your throat. You will also find your friends doubled up on the floor in laughter as you explain why they can’t go together with you in your car for pizza. Final tip: Using almost an entire bottle of Febreze air freshener on the inside of said car will only change it from a steaming manure scent to a steaming, vaguely floral, manure scent.

Having a Tough Nevada Cowboy Mentality

2010-08-08T20:54:00.001-07:00

“…he made a decree for the rain, and a way for the thunderbolt;” – Job 28:26

Most of my free time today was spent working in my backyard repairing a part of my sprinkler system. Deep in mud and rock, I was finally getting to the end of it, when the wind picked up. I didn’t think much of it; I was determined to finish the job today. Dark clouds moved in. I stopped for some refreshing iced tea made of black tea leaves combined with mint. I took my first sip, and the power went out – I heard distant thunder. I figured the power would come back on eventually; I wasn't worried. You can always tell when a storm is coming because the wind carries the distinct warm smell of wet sagebrush. I figured I had a little time yet, so undeterred, I went back to work. It began to rain. Now, rain in the desert isn’t like rain elsewhere; it usually stops after a few minutes hardly dampening the ground. I was getting wet, but it actually felt good after the long hot day in the sun. Suddenly, the thunder was much closer, and the rain began to come down hard. Am I one to be scared by a little thunder and rain, even the occasional flash of lightning? Not me. I’m made of tough Nevadan desert with a cowboy mentality to match. At least I wasn’t afraid… until the hail began. I gathered up everything and ran for the house. Part of having a tough Nevada cowboy mentality is also knowing when to get out of the way before you get toasted like a cheap marshmallow by a stray bolt of lightning.

Our Father

2010-08-03T22:17:00.000-07:00

“He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray…’ ” Luke 11:1

There are a lot of different lists floating around the Internet. There’s this website called 365 Reasons to be an Episcopalian. Anyone can contribute ideas. Although its goal was 365, they’re now up to 545 reasons on the list. Here are ten of my favorites:

1. Episcopalians find debating decisions on the rules a lot more fun and interesting than the rules themselves.
2. “Episcopal” is an anagram of “Pepsi Cola.”
3. We laugh a lot.
4. God is not a boy's name.
5. Episcopalians believe in moderation in all things, including moderation.
6. Preaching is a small part of an Episcopal worship service. Pulpit is to the side; the altar is at the center, and everyone is invited.
7. In the Episcopal Church, it's perfectly okay to kneel at the communion rail and marvel at the beauty and mystery of the Eucharist while wearing jeans and cowboy boots.
8. We don't expect clergy to have all the answers.
9. We don't claim an exclusive franchise on God.
10. From Garrison Keillor: You can "know you are an Episcopalian when you watch a Star Wars movie and they say, 'May then Force be with you,' and you respond, 'and also with you.'"

     I'm really good at making lists; it allows me to sleep at night, to let go of stuff since I know I won’t forget. Sometimes it also allows me to pretend I'm working on something: "Hey, it's on the list."

     What works great for to-do's or chores or groceries, however, is terrible when it comes to churches, or godliness, or just plain living. People always seem to end up making lists so they can tell who is in the group and who isn't. It’s easier to divide ourselves up into visible groups, based on shared experiences or outward similarities. Sometimes that's good. Certain groups need special attention or have special interests, like a grief support group, or the youth group, or a group for folks who've lost their jobs.

     A lot of times, though, it's not healthy. Sometimes those obvious, tangible dividing lines can be tempting as people try to discern which group deserves more respect or attention. Congregations often tend to divide into visible groups like male or female, young or old, married or not, Republican or Democrat, longtime member or newcomer, gay or straight, hipster or normie? (I just learned those last two words.)

     Our identity, says Paul, comes from the One who created us. In Colossians 2:9, 10 – (Speaking of Jesus) “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him...”

     Too often the wrong issues unite us. It is so easy to get caught up in defending traditions or align and divide over silly arguments. The greatest arguments I have ever seen in the church have not been over whether we can help the poor, or if Christians should seek peace and an end to violence in our neighborhoods, or whether we should rejoice together when a baby is born, or mourn together when one of our own passes. No, we don't argue over these momentous things. Instead the greatest arguments and hurt feelings I have ever seen have been over silly stuff like the decision between carpeting or tile in the sanctuary. Then, if carpeting is decided on, the choice of the color of carpeting becomes the new battleground. Heaven help your church if the carpet is dirty and worn out, and yet was a memorial given on behalf of someone's great grandmother.

     In Colossians 2:11, 14, it says we have put off the flesh and the legal demands. The “legal demands” Paul speaks of is that way of thinking that if you keep a good enough laundry list it gets you into heaven. You know, like if you do the following things you're guaranteed heaven:

1. Never get angry
2. Give all your money away.
3. Become a monk.
4. Read at least one entire book of the Bible every day.
5. Never have a lustful thought.
6. Always listen attentively to the priest's sermon (and compliment him afterwards!)
7. Never cuss.
8. Never have doubts.
9. Attend every service the church offers. (Even though for a lot of people, going to church makes them a Christian like going to a garage makes you a car.)

     Why are we told not to make these kinds of lists? The simple answer is because they don’t work. Israel, as a nation, tried it over a period of a couple thousand years. It's why 92% of New Year's Resolutions Fail – 45% of them by the end of January.

     Jesus pointed to a different way. The disciples asked him to teach them how to pray. I doubt they had never prayed in their devout Jewish lives, but they could see something different about how Jesus prayed. They could see it was deeper, more intimate than they had ever seen or experienced. Jesus does not give them magic words or a list of things that are OK to say. Instead, Jesus teaches them about the nature of the One to whom they pray.

     When we gather today, we still pray, "Our Father...," but even when you pray this prayer in the privacy of your own home the words remain the same: "Our Father..." So, Jesus tells us about God, but also by saying "Our Father," we acknowledge who we are. By admitting God is my Father, I am saying I am a son of God. I know priests aren't supposed to admit this, but sometimes that's hard for me to understand. You don't get to be fifty-three years old like me without a lot of broken parts clanking around inside you. I'm aware of things that are my good traits. I'm aware I have strengths and talents – I'm not being falsely modest. But, oh God, am I also aware of my broken bits; times I've failed, stupid things I say, opportunities missed. I don't know about you, but I'm my own worst critic. Yet God doesn't just put up with me, God loves me unconditionally. When I unclench my fist that's holding onto all my shortcomings and just rest in God, faith allows me to believe again that I am a child of God.

     We don’t say "My Father," but "Our Father..." – everyone's father. He is the God of men and the God of women. He is the God of the old and the young. God is a Republican God and a Democratic God. He is the God of those who find life partners, and of those who live alone. He is the God of well-scrubbed Episcopalians, and the God of the homeless who often sleep on our doorstep. He is the God of straight people; He is the God of gay people. He is the God of people just like us, and also of people we don't like. They are equally children of God, equally destined to Christ's likeness.

     But then comes the most dangerous part of the entire Lord's prayer. I'm convinced if people knew what it meant, most of us would not pray it: “Thy kingdom come.” We're praying that this kingdom break out not just in Reno, not just in Nevada, not just in the United States, not just in the Western Hemisphere – we're also praying that the kingdom break out in our hearts. We are actually praying for a kingdom that is both boundless and without boundaries to be established, not just on earth, but in my own backyard.

     When we say, "Our Father..." we are asking that we will go beyond accepting that we are children of God and be translated into a world where we look up for once, and look outside ourselves and realize that others are equally children of God.

     That bleeding heart liberal you can't stand is equally a child of God;
     And so is that cranky conservative who you're convinced is still living in the 1950's;
     And so is that homeless guy who is dirty and smells funny;
     And so that person whose skin looks like mine;
     And so is that person whose skin is different;
     And so is that family that looks like mine;
     And so is that family that is configured completely differently from mine.;
     And so is that group that shares my religion;
     And so is that group whose religion is nothing like mine.

     Trying to live our lives by making long lists of all our shortcomings and the changes we're going to make just doesn't work. Trying to live our lives by making long lists of people who are in and people who are out doesn't work. Jesus teaches what works is to stop rushing around and beating ourselves and others up. What works is to recognize that I am a child of God. What works is to then recognize that others are equally children of God; equally destined to Christ's image.

     And when we drop all the rushing around and should's and shouldn't's and lists and just sit quietly in the presence of God in prayer recognizing who we are and who others are with the words, "Our Father...," then and only then, deep, tectonic shifts begin in our hearts. Then, the world begins to change. Then, the kingdom comes.

My Secret Vice

2010-07-24T05:30:00.000-07:00

     Surreptitious, embarrassing, scandalous – all words that could describe the secret vice I engage in at least once a week, sometimes two or three times a week when I am stressed. Thank God, I don’t think any of my parishioners suspect.

     Yes, you guessed it: I like to look at LOL Cats on the Internet. I feel so much better just having said that out loud. There is so much stigma attached to this, that it has taken me years to be able to come out of the closet (or in that too cute broken English called LOL Cat Speak: “Come out ov teh closets”). I love cats and have two of my own – Garfield and Casey – who rule my household with firm yet gentle paws. It was an accident years ago that I stumbled upon the premier LOL Cat website I CAN HAS CHEESEBURGER. In no time, I was hooked.

     Today, I came across another website that will translate regular English into LOL Cat English. Perhaps Episcopalians’ dour reputation would be lightened up a bit if we translated some of our scriptures into LOL Cat English? Here are some well-known passages:

Furst dis: Gawd creatd teh heavens an earth - all u c, all u doan c.

Gawd, mah sheferd! I doan ned ting. He makez me lie down in de green grass; he leadz me beside still waters;u has beddd me down in lush meadows, u find me quiet pools 2 drink frum.

Noah an all his whole pplz boardd teh ship 2 escape teh floods. Clean an unclean animals (liek dawgs), birdz (yay!), an all teh crawlin creaturez came in pairs 2 Noah an 2 teh ship, jus as gawd had commandd Noah.

Add a few pictures of cute cats, and we’ve got Gospel!

NOM Pastor Speaks Against Gay Marriage… um… I think.

2010-07-22T05:19:00.000-07:00

While I understand fear of change – everyone feels that sometime or another – I’ve never quite understood the overwhelming fear that somehow traditional marriage is threatened by recognizing there are others who wish to take their relationships seriously, make lifetime commitments, and celebrate with their loved ones and faith communities. Even harder to understand, is the denial of basic rights like hospital visitation, equal opportunity in employment, inheritance, and protection against discrimination also opposed by the National Organization for Marriage (by that, they mean straight marriage only.)

NOM is currently touring the United States trying to spread their message of ~~hatred and bigotry~~ conservative religious values. At a recent rally, one anti-gay preacher got pretty worked up and began speaking in tongues. Really, his ranting would be enough to frighten decent gay people anywhere. I think he probably wanted to say that gays should not be allowed to get married and we are all going to H-E-double-hockey-sticks, but if this is really the Spirit at work, he may very well be saying something like, “This NOM tour is complete rubbish! Love is the only law that Christ would give!” I don’t know… watch the video and see what you think.

The Abstract Poor and Their Abstract Children

2010-07-20T20:29:00.000-07:00

“For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.” – Matthew 26:11

     Every week, Trinity Episcopal Church hands out between 300 and 450 sack lunches to the hungry and homeless in downtown Reno. We supplement that with fresh oranges congregants donate and day-old baked goods our local Starbucks gives us. In rotation with other downtown churches we host one or more homeless families every couple months.

     In Sparks, our neighboring city, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church feeds about a thousand families a month out of their food pantry.

     I am haunted by the faces that line up sometimes hours before our doors open. Jesus said we would always have the poor with us, but I’m not sure that is because we can’t eradicate poverty given the wealth of our nation, or if Jesus foresaw flawed humanity and imperfect human governments would never care enough to do so.

     I suspect the loudest voices in the political world who defend the wealthy and privileged of our country and reluctantly open their clenched fists to hand the poor even the smallest aid, have never really seen their faces. The poor are an abstract. You can’t feel compassion for an abstract. If an abstract is hungry, it’s hard to care about them or their abstract children. I invite them to spend time handing out lunches with us in Reno. Go to Sparks and pack the cardboard boxes and bags for the families, but be sure to hand them to the poor yourself. Volunteer at a local shelter or serve food at the downtown mission. See the faces. Look in their eyes. They will never be an abstract again.

Parishioner Carjacked and Beaten on Way to Church

2010-07-12T22:10:00.000-07:00

     It has not yet made the national news, but we had a parishioner from our church carjacked coming down the Mt. Rose highway on her way to church last Sunday and brutally beaten. She was left unconscious and bleeding. We found out about it first because one of our priests drove past and saw the scene, and reported it when he arrived for the 7:45 AM service. A bit later, one of our vestry members was driving down the same road and saw it too. Luckily, after she had passed by, a member of the Hell's Angels motorcycle club was passing and saw her beaten and bleeding. He stopped and made a tourniquet from the greasy bandana he was wearing. Doctors later said that probably saved her life, stopping the blood loss. He got to St. Mary’s hospital in Reno and shockingly even paid two months of the bills in advance. The Hell’s Angels are holding a chopper rally next Friday in downtown Reno to raise funds to pay the rest of her hospital bills.

     OK, by now you've realized it's just a story, but maybe you feel a bit of the shock Jesus' audience felt when he talked about the good Samaritan (Although I’ve always wondered if the title of the story wouldn’t be better as “The Bad Priest”.)

     My adaptation is really not so far off. The highway down from Lake Tahoe to Reno is very similar to the one from Jerusalem down to Jericho. It is 36 miles from Incline Village at the Lake to Reno, and only 18 miles from Jerusalem down to Jericho, but it is about the same drop in elevation. So, we could easily say, it's half as far, but twice as steep. And as far as the Hell’s Angels goes… who would you least expect to come to your aid if you were the one lying in a ditch on the side of the road?

     We could be any of the people in this story. Every last one of us has been that person in the ditch. We are the victim on the road, robbed of our innocence. Some pass by us like the priest or the Levite. Even worse, some come along and give us one last kick to be sure we’re really bleeding by telling us things like, “You deserved it,” or, “It was your own stupid fault,” or, “You should help yourself,” or the worst lie of all, “You are not worthy of being loved or helped.”

     Sometimes, to my shame, I realize I have been the robber, beating and inflicting wounds on others… even those whom I love. Sometimes, at the best of times we are the Samaritan. We become the good Samaritan when we realize we don't come across those who are hurting and in need by chance. It is a divine appointment we are keeping.

     If we continue working on radical love – Jesus' kind, that saw no boundaries, no limits between people, then, there comes a time when we understand there are no Samaritans – or Jews, or priests, or conservatives, or liberals, or Whites, or Hispanics, or Blacks, or gays, or straights. There are only four kinds of people in the world:

Those who attack and rob others
Those who lie beaten and bleeding,
Those who pass by, and…
Those who hearts are touched with compassion.

We are all bleeding to death, dying of the need of both treating and being treated the way people who are fully human – who see no boundaries to love – treat one another. Christianity is not so much about the individual "getting to heaven” – Jesus has promised we’re going to get there. In a very real sense, Christianity is mostly about how many of our fellow travelers we touch along the way.

The Death Penalty

2010-06-18T07:41:00.000-07:00

His crimes were horrifying; the sentence just. Still with last night's midnight execution of Ronnie Lee Gardner in Utah by firing squad, I am appalled at the sheer brutality of it. There are so many deserving people struggling with illness and disaster for whom I have have prayed they will be allowed to live. I prayed for my father's life, but he was taken from us four years ago. I am not the giver of life. I tremble to put myself in the place of God by taking a life.

Weeds According to Pickles

2010-06-17T08:01:00.000-07:00

My sentiments exactly!

Pickles is done by Brian Crane, a local comic strip artist of whom my little city is very proud - hometown boy makes good! You can see more of his humor at "Go Comics". If your local newspaper does not carry Pickles ask them to start.

The Trinity Can Also Give You Healthy Gums & Fresh Breath!

2010-05-30T20:18:00.000-07:00

     At an earlier service I teased my rector Stefani about her upcoming sermon for this morning, Trinity Sunday: “I’m looking forward to having this whole Trinity business explained to me.”

     With a coy smile she replied, “All will be revealed.”

     During her excellent sermon, she gave a number of wonderful illustrations, including historical ones. There were two new ones I had not heard before that especially stuck with me.

     The first used the toothpaste Aquafresh. She mentioned she had picked this illustration up elsewhere, but it is delightful to think of a representation of the Trinity being right in your medicine cabinet.

     The other explanation came from Roman Catholic theologian Elizabeth Johnson who compares God with DNA. The shape of DNA is a double helix: two strands of genetic material woven together to form the building block of all biological life. Now imagine DNA with an extra strand, Johnson says – a triple helix that’s the greatest source of life ever! The sheer immensity of God the Trinity woven into every aspect of our lives like DNA spoke to me personally.

     The most delightful explanation of God, although not explicitly Trinitarian, came this morning during the children’s service from another of our priests, Kathy, who read a wonderful children’s book entitled In God’s Name by Sandy Eisenburg Sasso. In it, everyone is searching for God’s name and all of them think they have found the best one. It is not, however, until they all gather around a still pond and speak their own name for God that God becomes present. The kids were enthralled, and the insight of the book, as we struggle to name the unnamable, awed me and gave me goosebumps.

Ghosts in the New York Public Library!

2010-05-26T06:55:00.000-07:00

Remember the movie Ghostbusters and the scene shot at the New York Public Library with the ghost in front of the card catalog? There is a wonderful group called Improv Everywhere that stages brilliant stunts in public places to the amazement of unsuspecting onlookers. The great thing I like about them is their pranks are never mean, but always the kind of performances that make people smile and laugh in wonder. Their latest video was arranged with the complicity of the New York Public Library to help with its current series of Public Service Announcements. Imagine you are studying at the library, when all a sudden ghosts begin to infiltrate, opening their laptops, reading, checking a dictionary entry. I mean, who you gonna call?

This second video is the original one that caught my attention; you may have seen it too. It was filmed in the Liverpool train station as part of a commercial for T-Mobile. Imagine during a regular busy travel day, music begins and a man starts dancing alone in the middle of the station, only to be joined by five more people, and then ten, and then… I only wish something like this would happen to me when I travel.

11th Annual Ecumenical Choir Festival

2010-05-25T05:31:00.001-07:00

     Over one hundred choristers gathered at Trinity Episcopal Church last Sunday for our 11th annual Ecumenical Choir Festival. The church was packed, as choirs from as far away as Quincy, California lifted their voices in praise. Each group presented an individual anthem they had prepared, and there were three incredible mass choir pieces. Our church has a long tradition of supporting ecumenical relations, and it did my heart good as I watched Episcopalians, Methodists, Roman Catholics, Lutherans, and Unitarians all joining their voices in song. For a couple hours every year, it always feels to me I am seeing Christians united in faith as it was meant to be.

     This first piece is the mass choir presentation of Elijah Rock in an exciting gospel arrangement I had never heard:

     The second piece is Trinity's offering of Taste and See arranged by our talented new Interim Music Director, Michael Langham:

Leaving Facebook

2010-05-24T20:34:00.001-07:00

     So, Facebook admits to making another privacy gaffe and apologizes profusely and sincerely, promising it will respect your privacy in the future. I, for one, don’t buy it. You can read the latest mea culpa in the "Washington Post". Wanting to beat the Christmas rush, I deleted my account two weeks ago.

     There are many reasons why people get onto Facebook. It all sounded so noble and logical as I repeated my reasons to others a year ago, “My oldest daughter has graduated from college, and my younger daughter will be following her in a couple years. As they go away to graduate school, I want to be able to stay in touch.” Sometimes, I even threw in a justification based on evangelism: “You know, most young people communicate through Facebook, so this will open up a whole new way of staying in touch with younger parishioners and older ones too.” What a great dad! What an edgy emergent-church kind of priest! The real truth was far less pretty.

     I was driving home last year when my oldest daughter called me on my cell phone to say she had been accepted by Seton Hall University about fourteen miles outside of New York City. I was thrilled; I was proud; I made all sorts of appropriate parental noises. I also hung up and cried the rest of the way home. Seton Hall: 2,861 miles from my doorstep in northern Nevada.

     According to Google Maps, it would take me forty-three hours to drive there. Clearly, Google Maps based this wild-eyed optimistic estimate on three assumptions: 1) I would not sleep, eat, or stop for gas; 2) My little Hyundai sedan could maintain a constant rate of 66.5 miles per hour shooting out of my sleepy little neighborhood and blazing through downtown Salt Lake City, Omaha, Chicago, and Cleveland without attracting the interest of law enforcement, and; 3) A large-sized Diet Pepsi wouldn’t force my tricky fifty-two-year-old bladder to the side of the road within fifteen minutes flat. I had realized the girls were eventually going to grow up and have their own lives, but did they really have to begin them on the other side of the planet? OK, to take the drama down a notch we return to Google Maps where we learn that the “other side of the planet” would technically have been somewhere in the neighborhood of Samarkand, Uzbekistan – but you get my drift.

     So, in what some would uncharitably describe as a less-than-manly display of parental panic, I joined Facebook. At first it was fun. We had some great father-daughter time as the girls tutored me in how to post my status (“Dad is now on Facebook!”) and learned how to make critical updates about my life (“I have uploaded my first picture of the cats!”) Ever the Episcopalian and concerned about my privacy, I spent hours perusing articles about online settings for Facebook to prevent personal details being divulged to identity thieves or the Huffington Post – both evil enterprises who would naturally want to access private shots of my cats. Finally it was done, and I settled back into making daily checks of Facebook to learn about my daughters’ lives and share mine with them. What I learned is our lives consist mainly of what we have eaten today, things we already discussed on the phone or in person, and who our latest Facebook friends are. Week after week, I found I had less to say and would prefer to talk to my daughters in person rather than try to make my rather predictable day sound interesting by coming up with catchy status updates like, “Whoa! Jonah swallowed by sea monster during Morning Prayer. God: 1; Jonah: 0!”

     Yes, it was life on the edge, until the day Facebook decided to make its first “enhancement” to my privacy settings. What Facebook means by “enhanced privacy settings” is they have defaulted all your previous privacy settings to absolute zero, allowing everyone (especially their advertisers) to see your profile, marital status, home town, groups you have joined, list of friends, and the new Thai restaurant you ate at last night. Another facet of being Episcopalian is I am basically polite. I found it hard to refuse the deluge of friend requests from people I liked, people I was not sure I liked, and people I did not even know. What began as a family sharing experience shortly became a mob. Soon, I was being informed about vague acquaintances purchasing fertilizer for their simulated ant farms on Facebook and important valid scientific tests I could take (“What Gemstone Are You?”; “What Celebrity Are You?”; “What Theologian Are You?”) I learned how to hide friends or activities like the ant farm but still, as one friend put it, “What does it say about your sixty-eight friends when you have sixty-two of them hidden?”

     After each of the four “privacy enhancements” Facebook has rolled out in the year I have been with them, I had to spend too much time learning how to lock down my settings again. Each time, they introduced one more way to make it difficult or impossible to do so. Sometimes I did not realize I had missed a setting until I had a new friend request from a stranger waiting for me or received startling E-mail notifications from Facebook (“Margaret went to the same Thai restaurant you did last night!”). The final straw came during their last upgrade when I discovered I could no longer completely opt out of people sending me friend requests. I had received thirteen requests from current and former students within a week. There is no way I am sharing my personal life with twelve-year-olds I am currently teaching and middle schoolers I taught last year. I’m their teacher, not their friend – no matter what more groovy teachers say, there does remain an important gulf between those two. Read about privacy concerns on Facebook at the New York Times here: "Price of Facebook Privacy?" Given these four previous missteps and the amount of money to be made from ad revenue if Facebook does not respect my privacy, you will understand if I am less than ready to swallow the latest spin-saturated apology.

     Since I also work with websites, I have a rather advanced Internet virus protection program. I say “advanced” because it cost me a lot of money. Over a week’s time, my virus protection program would indicate an uptick in malicious traffic whenever I accessed Facebook. Reports online have indicated Facebook is one of the new favorite targets of spammers, hackers, and identity thieves. Read about these concerns at the New York Times here: "A 'friend' might send you a virus"

     So, a couple weeks ago, I deleted my account. It is a pretty easy process if you can withstand the pleading messages that arrive in your E-mail afterwards: “Mark will miss you!” “Susan still wants to be your friend!” Simply go to the help page on Facebook, type “delete account” into the search box, and the answer will come up – it is just one simple click on a link after that. I even have heard there is a move to get people to quit Facebook on Memorial Day due to these privacy concerns ("Quit Facebook on May 31"). For once, it’s nice to be ahead of the curve. Facebook will try to get you to just “deactivate” your account, but don’t fall for it – if you ever sign in again, even accidentally, your account is automatically reactivated. Even when you choose to delete your account, if you sign in again within fourteen days, the process is cancelled, and you have to start over.

     My oldest decided not to go to Seton Hall last year after all; instead she will be heading down to Texas for grad school this fall. It is not the other side of the world at least, but she is probably going to end up with a drawl at the end of her first month, and I am concerned about her even being in the same state as George Bush. We will keep in touch in old fashioned ways – letters and phone calls – and in new fashioned ways like E-mail. The bottom line is I do not really think a third party focused on advertising dollars maintains your relationships – only real human contact does that. Besides, Texas isn’t that far away. Google Maps says it is only a twenty-nine hour drive!

Retirement or Act II?

2010-05-13T12:43:00.000-07:00

     After many years teaching elementary school, I have decided to retire. It really was not an easy decision. Realizing I was finishing my thirtieth year finally hit me after the holidays. Just out of curiosity, I wrote to our public employees’ retirement system to see what kind of retirement income I would have if I retired at the end of this year. After looking at the figures, I realized if the church wanted me as a part-time priest, they would be getting quite a deal since I did not need that much additional salary to bring me up to my current teaching salary.

     In February, I approached my rector with the idea. We did have a full-time priest in addition to her when she arrived, but that priest was hired into a rector’s position back east quite awhile ago. We also have a part-time priest shared between our congregation and another. For the past four years, I have simply acted as what we jokingly refer to in Nevada as a “gas money priest” since the small monthly stipend we receive usually pays for the gas. I presented the idea of the job initially, and then she called me back for a more serious talk a couple weeks later. Once she decided it was a great idea, it went to the executive committee, and then needed vestry approval. The hard part was knowing all this was underway, but having to keep track of who knew and who did not know, so I did not say something I shouldn’t. Finally, with the mailing of our May newsletter the whole congregation knew – what a relief! The congregation has given me a warm reception – odd statement since I have been there for thirteen years − and I am looking forward to starting formally in July. I am thinking of it not so much as “retirement” (I’m only 52 – a tender age), but as “Act II” in the unfolding play that is my life.

     It is an odd and somewhat unsettling feeling to think of myself not teaching school. When I pause to consider it, in one form or another I have never really been out of school: Grammar School – Middle School – High School – College – Grad School – Teaching. My entire life has been lived among schoolchildren. When I am asked what I do for a living, the answer has always been, “I’m a teacher.” Rarely does the priest thing come up. Now, the correct answer is, “I am an Episcopal priest.” That is going to take some getting used to.

     The standard questions I am asked on almost a daily basis are, 1) “So, are you counting the days?” and; 2) “What are you going to do?” That first question is beginning to get on my nerves. Yes, I am ready to move on, but I still love my students, and am going to give them my all until we have to say good bye in June.

     The second question is easier to answer, except most people seem a trifle disappointed I am not planning to sail around the world with only my cats for company or something equally extreme (We teacher/priests are a dull lot.) To be honest, there are a few things I am really looking forward to in my retirement: not grading papers every evening, not having to wait for a bell to go to the bathroom, and not being afraid of those icons on the evening weather report. I want to just watch the evening weather report without my stomach clenching if there is snow or rain midweek. If I see the rain or snow icon it means I’m going to have a rough commute (only 35-45 minutes, but lots of hills and mountains), and probably the kids are going to stay inside all day.

     It is public knowledge at my school that I am retiring, and even my students are beginning to know. One boy asked today in a hurt tone of voice, “Why didn’t you tell us you were retiring?! We would have treated you better.” I just laughed. I will miss the kids.

The Pale Blue Dot

2010-04-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it. - Psalm 24:1

Emergent Church Catechism Not Exactly Traditional

2010-04-15T11:06:00.001-07:00

Easter Eve is Christmas Eve for Adults

2010-03-30T21:00:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the excitement and anticipation of Christmas Eve as a kid? Many folks were raised in a religious tradition that emphasized the incarnation of Jesus, and yet whatever your background, we can all remember the excitement of Christmas Eve not being so much about the baby Jesus, but about PRESENTS! The excitement of knowing there would be gifts in the morning to be unwrapped almost made it impossible to sleep.

What Christmas Eve is for kids – anticipation, excitement, joy – the Easter Vigil held on Easter Eve is for adults. Adults have been through the reality of death in our world. All of us have experienced the sorrow and devastation of losing someone without whom the world will never be the same. We as adults have lived long enough to have seen evil. The worst of it is recognizing true evil exists twined around inside each of us. We have lived; we have seen real pain; we have tasted loss, despair, regret. Easter Eve isn't for kids... it's for those of us who have lived long enough to want a different kind of present. It’s no longer that shiny bike or the new train set under the Christmas tree which fills our dreams. Instead, we dream of resurrection, life, hope – the redemption of regained innocence in this tired, cynical world – a second chance. The gift of Easter is the present adults really want and need.

Chocolate Crosses for Easter?!

2010-03-29T21:57:00.000-07:00

Clergy have long struggled with the secularization of Easter. Many priests feel that things like the Easter egg hunt and someone in a bunny costume takes away from the true message of Easter: the resurrection of Jesus. Well, maybe, but like a true Anglican, I have always fallen on the rather wishy-washy side. I guess it could vaguely be described as the “Oh-for-goodness-sakes-the-kids-and-parents-love-the-Easter-egg-hunt-and-maybe-it’ll-get-them-in-church” side.

I have, however, recently realized even I, progressive and liberal as they come, have my limits. I was introduced to my boundaries courtesy of the Hershey Chocolate Company and my local grocery store. In a no doubt well-intentioned move to answer more conservative Christian concerns and infuse a little religion into the secular, Hershey’s has come out with the chocolate Easter cross (in white or milk chocolate). So instead of biting off those chocolate bunny ears, children can now munch on a piece of Jesus’ cross. Am I the only one kind of creeped out by this?

The Real Point of Life

2010-03-05T06:28:00.000-08:00

Hot Chocolate & Lorna Doones

2010-02-08T21:55:00.001-08:00

Looking for a guilt-free snack in the evening? Here’s mine: Sugar-free diet hot chocolate and Nabisco’s 100-calorie pack of Lorna Doones. This combo is only 3 points on Weight Watchers (1 for the hot chocolate; 2 for the cookies). Curl up with this treat and a good book, and you’re set. Since I constantly have to keep an eye on my weight, I am open to any suggestions. So, what are your guilt-free treats?

San Francisco’s Answer to the Westboro "Baptist" Church

2010-02-03T22:15:00.001-08:00

     When the perennial purveyors of globe-trotting hate, AKA The Westboro “Baptist” Church, showed up at our downtown Episcopal Church in Reno a few years ago, we simply filed out of church and turned our backs on them and were mute – that ticked them off, I can tell you. I have to put “Baptist” in quotes since they are not affiliated with any recognized Baptist group.

     I’m wondering now, though, whether we should have followed the lead of some pranksters who dealt with the protestors in San Francisco by using humor. They created hilarious signs like “God Hates Signs” and “I Was Promised Donuts!” and infiltrated the protestors while blaring music from Lady Gaga (a particular favorite of the Westboro group, I understand.)

     I’m reminded of Martin Luther’s quote: “I often laugh at Satan, and there is nothing that makes him so angry…”

     Read the full story and see more pictures and a video here: LaughingSquid.com: “San Francisco’s Answer to the Westboro Baptist Church” .

Anne Frank’s Chestnut Tree

2010-02-03T09:39:00.000-08:00

Other than the Bible, it is said that the diary of Anne Frank is one of the most widely read works of non-fiction in history. Outside of the office building in Amsterdam where her family hid from the Nazis, a chestnut tree grew. Anne mentioned it in her diary on Feb. 23, 1944:

"From my favorite spot on the floor I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree, on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, and at the seagulls and other birds as they glide on the wind. 'As long as this exists,' I thought, 'and I may live to see it, this sunshine, the cloudless skies, while this lasts I cannot be unhappy.'"

     The tree is, however, close to the end of its life. In order to preserve Anne’s memory, saplings grafted from the original chestnut tree have been awarded across the globe – eleven are coming to the United States. The nearest sapling to my home here in Nevada is now planted north of the San Francisco bay area at Sonoma State University in Rohnert Park, California‎.

     Who would have thought at the time, that the diary of one bright young girl would forever change how we would see the consequences of World War II. One little chestnut sapling still grows to testify to what happens when people marginalize others, treating them as less than fully human… less than fully made in God’s image.

     You may read the full story here: The San Francisco Chronicle – “Anne Frank's spirit lives on in chestnut tree”.

Books Intravenously! The Amazon Kindle!

2010-02-02T22:51:00.000-08:00

     Perhaps I exaggerate by saying the books come intravenously, but for a book-lover, the Amazon Kindle is pretty close. I tend to rarely turn on the TV except for the news – it is not that I do not like watching TV, I just tend to forget about it. As a kid, I loved both reading and watching TV, but somewhere after high school I lost the habit of being glued to the tube. I am just more likely to pick up a good book than take the trouble to flip through channels or check a TV Guide. I still love the feel of a real book in hand, but now when I come across a book I would like to read, I can pick up my Kindle and have it delivered wirelessly within a couple minutes – nothing like a bit of instant gratification. You click a button and momentarily, you are in the Kindle book store on Amazon browsing through over 400,000 titles, most of which sell for $9.99 or less. By using the small keyboard at the bottom, you can search by title, author, or key word. It has limited ability to surf the web – mostly websites that are mainly text – still, it allows me to check my E-mail, read the news through Google Reader, go to a website with the daily office (Mission St. Clare) , and Google things; I do not need much more Internet than that while on the go.

     One of my favorite features is the E-Ink display. It is crisp and without the backlighting you see on a computer monitor. That makes it much more restful for the eyes. In the evening after grading papers and computer work, my eyes tend to be tired. All I have to do is press a button and the font size enlarges to a more comfortable size for reading. I hear the Kindle has the ability to hold about 5,000 books on it. I have nowhere near that many, but still quite a few, including the entire Bible and the Book of Common Prayer.

     For most folks, I think it is a little pricey at $259.00, but perhaps with competition from Apple’s IPad and other E-book readers, the price will continue to come down. I know I have saved a great deal of money compared to what I would have spent on both full-priced books and the attendant shipping costs. The text to voice feature is nice, but many of the latest books are not text-to-speech enabled – some deal cut with the publishers of audio books, I hear. I was going to continue reading a novel by listening to it through headphones while getting some dental work done last week when I discovered that particular book was unfortunately not enabled for text-to-speech. One claim made by Amazon is the Kindle is very sturdy and can be dropped without sustaining damage – not accurate in my experience. I dropped my first one and part of the screen just at the top had dark lines across it; I was able to live with it awhile until I dropped it a second time and the dark lines covered half the screen. To be fair, both times I dropped it onto the cement floor in my garage, which is not quite the same as falling onto a carpeted floor inside the house. As it was outside warranty, Amazon offered to replace it for only $100.00, but I chose to buy the latest version as a replacement. Needless to say I am being very careful with it.

     I would love to tell you that most of my titles are like the Bible, or the Book of Common Prayer, or a book I have downloaded at the recommendation of my bishop entitled Transforming Congregations by James Lemler. ("Oh yes," he said with fingers crossed behind his back, "that is me; always improving my mind.") I must confess, however, that the truth is I have a lot of fun reads too (Anyone for some good Stephanie Plum mysteries?) since it is so easy and inexpensive to download them. I am impressed by big screen TVs, but after seeing some of the price tags on them, investing in my favorite form of entertainment by purchasing a Kindle seems like a real bargain.

He Passed Through the Midst of Them

2010-01-31T21:00:00.000-08:00

Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’ All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, ‘Is not this Joseph’s son?’ He said to them, ‘Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, “Doctor, cure yourself!” And you will say, “Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.” ’ And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.’ When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way. Luke 4:21-30

     This week after months of speculation, Apple unveiled its latest creation, the IPad. If you have not been following this news; if you are not a bit of a techno geek like I am, the IPad is 1 ½ pound, 9.7 inch, flat computer tablet with wireless internet. The buzz was good. There have been months of feverish speculation. In the New York Times, Steve Jobs, head of Apple spoke of the IPad with the kind of affection one usually reserves for one’s spouse. He is reported to have said, The IPad “is so much more intimate than a laptop, and it’s so much more capable than a Smartphone with its gorgeous screen.” Now, I do not know if it will do well or poorly. I am not much of a judge. I was the guy who told a friend in high school calculators would never catch on. More amazing than the product, was all the buzz that surrounded it long before people knew anything about it.

     Just like the IPad, the buzz was good about Jesus in today's Gospel. All were speaking well of him. Home town boy makes good! Naturally, he was invited to preach. From his brothers and sisters sitting up close to him, to proud aunts and uncles, to impressed co-workers, all the people of Nazareth first “spoke well of him” and were amazed at his “gracious words”

     So, Jesus preached from Isaiah:

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

     Jesus had a pretty short sermon: “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Nothing wrong with a short sermon (can I get an Amen?) Everyone was happy hearing what Jesus said! The Jubilee year, the "year of the Lord’s favor" was meant in Levitical Law to be enacted every 50th year. It is a year of celebration and rest. Debts are forgiven, lands are returned to family ownership, captives are released, and the poor are given a reprieve. Israel was a captive nation; captive to Rome – so this must have sounded pretty good at first. Jesus stopped short in the Isaiah reading. Isaiah goes on to talk about God getting revenge on those who had oppressed God's people. Jesus did not seem to want to preach about revenge... only freedom. He probably would have been more popular if he had just stopped right there. That would have been just the right place for the "Amen".

     But Jesus goes on to tell two stories calculated not to make any friends among a proud and nationalist people. He introduces them by saying, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’ Jesus might as well have gotten up and said, "I know you've all heard of the great things I did at Capernaum; well I am not going to do any of them here." You could have heard a pin drop in the synagogue that Saturday!

     He then went on to speak of the poor widow in the city of Zarephath in the country of Sidon. While famine was over the whole land of Israel during the reign of the later kings, it had also struck neighboring gentile nations like Sidon. God sent the prophet Elijah there to a widow who was not an Israelite... she was a Gentile. She had only enough flour and enough oil to make
one small piece of bread. Elijah found her gathering sticks to make a fire to bake the bread and then tear it in half, so she and her son could at least eat something... and then sit and wait to die. Elijah gave her something; somehow, the man of God gave this poor woman hope. He told her to bake the bread, but to bring it to him and then bake some more for her and her son. And what began as a menu of starvation became a feast for Elijah, for that widow, and for her little boy. Miraculously, the little bit of oil and the little bit of flour never ran out for three years and six months

     Jesus went on to speak of Naaman the Leper, a General of the Syrian army whom God healed through Elisha, the prophet who came right after Elijah.

     There were many suffering widows in Israel during that long famine, but Jesus talks about the widow of Zarephath in Sidon who got fed – an alien... a woman... an outsider. There were lots of folks with leprosy in Israel, sick as dogs, covered with sores. They were good, pious people, God’s own people, but God’s mercy went instead to Naaman the Syrian. Jesus knew that his message was not limited to Israel alone, and that this would be unacceptable to his own people. Most people these days do well to remain awake during a sermon; but the folks in Nazareth that day became “enraged.” Are you getting a hint of why Jesus' hometown crowd all of a sudden turned on him and wanted to toss him off a cliff?

     Some commentators say that perhaps in the confusion of the crowd, he was able to slip through them and go on his way... maybe. From what I've seen of mob behavior, and because of the way the hairs on the back of my neck tend to rise when I read the words, "But he passed through the midst of them..." It sounds like a miracle to me.

     Just as in Jesus' day, in our own time people who do not fit the norms of a group, whether social or religious, are still excluded. Sometimes they are excluded because of the color of their skin. Sometimes they are excluded because of their poverty. Sometimes it is because they do not have a home. Sometimes they have different religious or political ideas. Sometimes they are excluded because their relationships – the people they love – are different from other people's. Jesus broke through all barriers Here we see the real reason Jesus was so radical. He really upset his own people who thought they had an exclusive contract with God. They had their own ideas of how God would act. You know what happens when expectations are not met; when you disappoint people. Jesus keeps making the circle bigger while many people are trying instead to circle the wagons.

     This preaching of Jesus is like telling U.S. denominational Christians God is as likely to bless a Muslim Imam as an Episcopal priest. God is equally likely to look with favor on a newborn in Haiti as he is to care for my children. These alarming illustrations of God’s universal love and providence are not acceptable to people whose religion has made God small enough to sit in their churches or synagogues. This is a Gospel that is alarming to those who are so smug and self-righteous they can blame tragedies like we are seeing in Haiti on the poor victims themselves. It is alarming to people who have made God small enough to package and peddle at a church supper or a political convention.

     Most human beings are content to settle for a God smaller than the one Jesus preached. Most prefer a God that is safe, portable... potty-trained. Like shopping for a comfortable lounge chair, first we measure the space available in our living room, or our lives, and then pick out something that fits between TV and stereo. In setting up our church's budget or planning our pledges or considering how we will each serve God, have we already decided that the God we are going to follow in the coming year is just going to have to be scaled down? But God doesn’t dance to our tune. No longer can any one segment of the faith community claim God to be exclusively theirs. God belongs to everyone. That is Jesus' message. God's arms embrace us all.

     Is our God too small? The folks at Nazareth were quite content with a Nazareth-sized God. Have we settled for a Reno-sized God? Maybe a Reno-Sparks God? OK, a Reno-Sparks, AND Sun Valley God. Maybe we are magnanimous enough to have a Nevada God or even... an American God. Still, that is too small a God for Jesus. Our little Nazareths of local limitations send God away.

     Jesus was right there among them with the Gospel, but because their God was too small, Jesus ended up simply walking away unnoticed. Jesus eluded them both physically and spiritually – they did not comprehend who he was, what he was doing, or why he was there. So, this morning, over two thousand years later, we ask ourselves the question, "Is our God too small?" Is our God a local, kind of tribal God, or are we really ready to worship a God who embraces all his children?

     In 1 Corinthians 13, amidst bickering about whose spiritual gifts are best, Paul reminds the church that love is our chief vocation. God's love empowers us to love one another. I am truly known by God, forgiven and loved, and therefore I can turn and love others.

     Are we ready to receive the Gospel of God's radical welcome and love or will Jesus elude us too? Will he abide with us, or will we allow him to just... pass through our midst and go on his way?

What Would Martin Think of Gay Rights?

2010-01-18T07:47:00.001-08:00

Songs of Praise Rise from Haiti

2010-01-17T19:00:00.000-08:00

Well, the heat is off gays, feminists, and Planned Parenthood. You may remember, Pat Robertson blamed gays and feminists for 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina on the work of Planned Parenthood. Pat has now sunk to an astonishing new low: Blaming the victims of natural disasters themselves. The following excerpt is from the Christian Broadcasting Network’s “700 Club” broadcast of 1/13/10:

"And you know, Kristi, something happened a long time ago in Haiti, and people might not want to talk about it.

“They were under the heel of the French, uh, you know Napoleon the 3rd and whatever, and they got together and swore a pact to the Devil.

“They said, 'We will serve you if you'll get us free from the French.'

“True story.

“And so the Devil said, 'Okay, it's a deal.’

“And, uh, they kicked the French out, you know, with Haitians revolted and got themselves free.

“But ever since they have been cursed by, by one thing after another, desperately poor..."

Source: ABC: Pat Robertson Blames Hatians

The Gospels are very clear about Jesus’ thoughts on the subject of natural disasters and life’s misfortune – they were just that. He never blamed the victims. Here are some specific citations:

As he walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. – John 9

Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you… – Luke 13

There have been a number of responses to Pat Robinson's shockingly calloused and unscriptural remarks, but from The Washington Post, the voices of the Haitian people raised in songs of praise seem to be the best response.

At night, voices rise in the street. Sweet, joyful, musical voices in lyric Creole. A symphony of hope in a landscape of despair.

"It doesn't mean anything if Satan hates me, because God loves me," sing the women at Jeremy Square, their faces almost invisible in the darkness of this powerless, shattered downtown. "God has already paid my debt."

Port-au-Prince has become a kind of multidenominational, open-air church. Tens of thousands live in the street together, scraping for food and water, sharing their misery and blending their spirituality.

The women singing together in Jeremy Square might never have worshiped side by side before the disaster, but now their voices harmonize and soar well past 2 in the morning.

The hand of God was not in the earthquake; the hand of God is behind those who sing and pray together, who come from other countries to offer aid, and in you and me when we open our hearts to pray and send support.

Preaching Graph

2010-01-11T07:16:00.000-08:00

You Are the Beloved

2010-01-10T18:44:00.000-08:00

     Last night, I was the presider at our Saturday service. We talked about how Jesus showed us the place to start in our own ministries: in baptism. He rose dripping from the waters of the Jordan, and Mark states the heavens were "torn apart". The Spirit descended as a dove, and God himself from heaven spoke of His love for the Son.

     Some folks struggle through their whole lives without ever hearing a word of love; all they know is anger and rejection. Hearing someone say I love you – you are beloved – would be a life-changing experience. Like Jesus, when we reflect on our own baptism, we hear again those precious words said not just to Jesus, but to you and to me, "You are my child… the beloved. I am so pleased with you." As beloved, we can walk out into the world with a different attitude.

     Then, the congregation was sprinkled with water from the font with these words: “May the Holy Spirit, who has begun a good work in you, direct and uphold you in the service of Christ and his kingdom.” I did not plan this, but at the end, I just handed the water and the small pine branch we were using to an older woman in our congregation and asked her to sprinkle me. I said, “I need to remember my baptism too.” She was hesitant, and gave a first mild attempt without getting any water on me. I told her to try it again – she totally nailed me, and we all laughed.

     After everyone was gone, I went out to my car to drive home, and there was a light rain falling. As the drops hit my face it seemed that now it was God’s turn to baptize me and remind me who I am.