Sunday, August 14, 2011

God the Master Artist

This is the sermon that I preached Sunday, August 14, 2011 at Chapel in the Pine Presbyterian Church in Hoover, AL.

Genesis 45:1-15


I am not sure if it is the fact that one of my favorite classes at Columbia was an Old Testament exegesis class where the Joseph novella was our primary focus or that this story constantly draws me back, showing me something new, or opening my eyes to something I hadn’t seen before. Regardless of the reason, this story of one of the fathers of our faith is one that I love to return to time and time again. And this morning’s text is the dramatic conclusion to the long Joseph story.

The story of Joseph is pretty well known to most of us much to the thanks of Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber and their masterpiece, Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. And yet the story we find in the Book of Genesis is considerably grittier and darker then its Broadway counterpart. In the Genesis account we don’t find many beautiful or funny songs sung to catchy tones. The Joseph story we find in Genesis is complex and messy. There is a very human and real feeling running throughout this long story. The Joseph story is a story that begins with betrayal and ends with an unexpected reconciliation. And between these two events are ups and downs, and twists and turns. That draws us in each time we hear it. The story captivates us because from time to time we can see ourselves in it.

In the story of Joseph we are brought into an already messy and dysfunctional family. A family where dysfunction has been the name of the game for generations going all the way back to its beginnings in Abraham and Sarah. It was Abraham and Sarah who after years of travel found themselves having to lie from time to time to protect themselves. And this elderly couple eventually had a son who Abraham nearly sacrificed, but that’s a better fate then being cast out with your mother as was the case for Ishmael and his mother Hagar. The trouble did not end their I am afraid, for when Isaac became an old man, his youngest son Jacob, Joseph’s father, stole his older brother Esau’s birthright with the help of his mother Rebekah. And Jacob the trickster was tricked by his father-in-law Laban into marring his daughter Leah, not Rachel as he had hoped to. But after seven more years of indentured servitude, Laban allowed Jacob to marry Rachel, Joseph’s mother.

And so it is not surprising that Joseph’s brothers, knowing their family’s story and being sick of playing second fiddle to their father Jacob’s favorite son, take matters into their own hands. And they throw the arrogant boy Joseph into a pit and plan to kill him. The brothers instead choose to make some money off this pain of brother by selling him into slavery. And it is this act that sets in motion a chain of events that takes Joseph from a pit of despair to head of house, back to a pit of despair to finally to a seat second only to Pharaoh in Egypt. A painful journey that makes the once arrogant boy Joseph unrecognizable to his brothers some years later.

In our text this morning, the brothers find themselves once more standing before Joseph unbeknownst to them. They had come to Egypt in search of grains to help them to survive a famine, only to be detained as spies. And Joseph taking advantage of his position of power sends all but one of the brothers back to Canaan to fetch their youngest brother Benjamin. And now exhausted from their journey all of the sons of Jacob are standing in the same place. Joseph clears the room of everyone but his brothers. A feeling of uncertainty hangs in the air. And he begins to weep; to weep so loudly that everyone who had been sent out could hear, as well as those in Pharaoh’s house. And in this long awaited moment, Joseph finally reveals to his brothers that it is he, their brother, standing before them. I am sure that the realization of this must have hit them like a ton of bricks, as one commentator put it . And as the realization washed over Joseph’s brothers they must have begun to tremble with fear as they remember their shameful act.

And yet their fear is met not with retribution but with an overwhelmingly powerful act of forgiveness. Joseph, having stepped back and taking a long look at his life must have seen something greater then himself and his suffering. And in his speech to his awe-struck brothers he reveals a profound faith. Joseph assures his brothers that God had been at work through his whole life saying, “for God sent me before you to preserve life.” And Joseph’s since of God’s divine hand in his life is so strong that he repeats this sentiment again and then frames his brothers shameful act of selling him into slavery in such a way that nearly removes any guilt from them. Joseph says to his brothers in verse eight, “So it was not you who sent me here, but God.” It is in Joseph’s threefold mention of God’s acts of working in, through and under the actions of the brothers that Walter Brueggemann sees as “the key speech in the entire Joseph narrative.” Brueggemann says, “This speech completely redefines the situation for all parties. Now the guilty fear of the brother is superseded. The grief of the father is resolved…The revengeful cunning of the successful brother is superseded… The guilt of the brothers, the grief of the father, and the revenge of Joseph are all used as means for this disclosure of the hidden call of God.” And it would be nice and tidy and neat to see the suffering of Joseph as simply the means for God to accomplish the saving of a whole people as well as God’s chosen family.

But I wonder if that is what Joseph is really saying here. Does Joseph believe that God had simply planned out all of these events with the end result being the saving of many people and a joyous reunion where Joseph would be the one who saves the whole family? Commentator Kathryn Huey urges us to stop here for a moment and reflect, saying, “As much as we appreciate Joseph's deep and positive faith, and as much as we see the purpose of the long Joseph story as explaining how the Israelites went to Egypt, we might want to linger a bit on his theological reflection on God's will.” And I believe it would be a mistake to read into this text a God who had planned this from the very beginning, making Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery so that God may accomplish the saving of God chosen family and thousands of others through the painful journey of one. Reading the text this way removes human freedom and we become nothing more then puppets. And Joseph’s powerful outpouring of love and forgiveness looses its edge and becomes less meaningful.

No, I believe Joseph’s claim about God in his speech to his brothers goes much deeper then saying that God has been manipulating the events of his whole life. Joseph’s claim about God is a claim about God’s actions and presence in his life. A claim that is far more mysterious and complex then can be reduced to a simple formula. It is a claim that acknowledges the messiness of Joseph’s life and that God has been, is, and will be present with him in the messiness of his life. Joseph’s words show God not to be a puppeteer, controlling all the events but instead describe an artist whose sees a bigger picture then we are able. An artist who, as Barbara Brown Taylor says, “Nothing is too bent to be used – not even tragedies, not even bad decisions, not even plain human meanness.”

“I think that's why I'm attracted to this image of God as master artist who continues to paint with the colors she is given, to mold and to shape even when he doesn't have all the right tools” my friend Carrie said me this week as we talked about this text. She continued by saying, “The most beautiful part though is that if we're made in the image of God we are artists too, and have the same ability to create with what we are given. Which means we have the choice to dump black paint all over the canvas and walk away if we want. Yet Joseph doesn't.”

Joseph in an act of overwhelming tenderness and love begins to make beauty out of an ugly act committed against him so many years ago. He chooses to pick the paintbrush and paint with the colors he has. Here before our eyes is Joseph, who was shown no mercy by his brothers, forgiving them, loving them, and now making plans to provide for them. For him or our God nothing was to bent or broken to be used.

This act of forgiveness could not have been easy for Joseph. As we look back through this story, we know that Joseph has had his chances to get retribution on his brothers. And yet Joseph, in this moment, sets aside his desire for retribution in favor of reconciliation. And I believe that Joseph’s choice to seek this path overwhelms and surprises even him, because he breaks down in tears, and he becomes overwhelmed by the chance to start again with his brothers, to be reunited with his father, and to share the good fortune he has experienced in Egypt with his long lost family. It is this realization that hits Joseph like a ton of brinks and brings him to tears. The possibility of creating a more beautiful masterpiece with his brothers could not be contained and came bursting forth, pouring out of Joseph as tears of joy.

I believe coming back to this text time and time again will always challenge us. Because Joseph’s outpouring of love is so grand on his brothers who were so easily willing to give him up into slavery that it unsettles us. We wonder if we could act as Joseph did, seeking reconciliation over retribution, forgiveness over vengeance, love over hate. And would we be able to see the masterpiece that is being created before our eyes and assist our master artist? Or would throw black pain on the canvas and walk away?

Creating works of art gets messy be it painting, sculpting or throwing clay. Paint gets spilled, clay gets on us, and before we know it we are covered with the stains of creating. And as we create, the clay or paint, metal or wood doesn’t always do what we want it to do, or take the shape we had hoped for. So we as the artist work with it, continuing to mold it, to shape it, to change color or brush stroke until it takes a form we want. And there are times when our soon to be masterpiece doesn’t take the shape we had hoped for, or what was in our mind’s eye is not what we see on the canvas before us. So we change our vision and go in a new direction, creating something brand new.

Our lives are much like this. As hard as we may try to keep our lives tidy and organized, we quickly find that our lives despite our best efforts become messy. We find that things don’t always work out the way we had hoped they would, or loved ones plans take precedent over ours. But we continue to work with what we have, molding and shaping, mixing colors and shapes until we step back and see the masterpiece that has become our life. And as we look closer at those places that we thought were twisted and mangled beyond use, we find divine fingerprints covering them. Because we chose not to throw those pieces out or cover them with black paint and walk away but hand them over to the divine master artist who transforms all of our ugly and broken pieces into something beautiful.

Hallelujah and Amen.


Citations -
- Brueggemann, Walter. Genesis . (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982.) p346.
- Matthews Huey, Kathryn . "August 14, 2011 | Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A (Ninth Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 15)." The United Church of Christ | No Matter Who You Are Or Where You Are On Life's Journey, You're Welcome Here . N.p., n.d. Web. 8 Aug. 2011. .
- Taylor, Barbara Brown. "Listening to Your Life." Gospel Medicine. Cambridge, Mass.: Cowley Publications, 1995.


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Stepping out of the Boat

This sermon was preached August 7, 2011 at Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church, Hoover, AL

Scripture Texts -
Romans 8:18-25 Matthew 14:22-33

“The adage that ‘all we have to fear is fear itself’ is wrong.” Lee Griffith writes in his most recent book. He continues saying “What we have to fear is contentment. Do not fear becoming a malcontent. Fear becoming complacent."[1] I heard this quote several weeks ago while during a devotional time for the leadership of a youth conference and it convicted and challenged me in ways that I could not have expected. For most of my life fear was something to overcome. For those who know me well and especially those who knew me in high school and college, knew that I had bit of a risk taker. I enjoyed doing things that got my heart beating fast and got my adrenaline going. Pushing my self past any fear, be it heights, rapids, jumping off of cliffs into water, playing on high ropes courses, climbing mountains, or speeding through the hills of the Appalachian Mountains on a bike were all activities that I found great joy in. This drive to push past my fears, led me to choose a minor that afforded me ample opportunities to do these things and do some of these activities at higher heights. For me pushing past my fears became common and somewhat normal and comfortable, to the point of wanting to work in this field and encourage others to push past their own fears.


And yet hearing Lee Griffith’s quote and thinking about my life I began to see places and times where taking risks or stepping out in faith is the least likely thing for me to do. There are places in my life where I would rather play it safe and not take a chance. I would rather stay inside my comfort zone, my place of known safety then venture out into the unknown and unsure. I would rather keep to myself then risk reaching out, where I might possibly loose myself, my identity or be hurt by another person. And I am sure I am not alone in this. I feel quite confident that most of us would rather play it safe then risk. And that which needs to be confronted from time to time in our lives is not our fears but our own complacency.


And when we look at our gospel text this morning, I wonder if Matthew is challenging us, as people of faith, to play it safe, or to open our eyes and see the world that is breaking in all around us and to follow our Lord. And in this text, I believe, we are being called to examine our own lives, and address those places of complacency that we would rather not move from.


As I mentioned before our Gospel text is situated directly after Jesus’ miracle of the feeding the five thousand with a mere five loaves and two fish. This miracle of multiplying simple and small gifts of the earth to feed a multitude must have baffled the minds of the disciples as well as those gathered. Here on the shores of Sea of Galilee, was one like them in every way but yet taught with authority and reached out to those whom no one wanted to help. For the disciples Jesus’ ability defied their abilities and even their imagination. His teaching challenged their known world and ways of seeing and interacting with it. The lines between what was seen as within human ability and powers limited only to the divine were beginning to blur for the disciples. A new world was breaking in all around them and disrupting their lives, their plans, and their vision of what they thought the world was.


And before the disciples could get a handle on what they had just seen, these awe struck followers of Jesus are told to get into a boat and go ahead to the other side. The Gospel writer goes on to say that Jesus then dismissed the crowds and went to a mountain to pray by himself, seeking the solitude he had sought after hearing the news of the execution of his cousin John the Baptizer. And as Jesus prayed, his disciples, men who had grown up by the sea, working in boats much like the one they were in, were being battered by the wind and waves of a storm. And for these disciples and those early Christians listening to this story, the sea, the storm, and nighttime all carried with them a since of foreboding were trouble, chaos, and even demonic powers could be present. And so it is not all to surprising that as Jesus comes walking toward the battered boat on sea that he finds the disciples crying out in fear and terror. A common response found in scripture of those who encounter God. And yet Jesus’ response to his terrified, and exhausted disciples is simply, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’


The middle clause of Jesus’ words of reassurance, “it is I,” can be literally translated to “I am” from the Greek. This use of “I am” should ring bells in our ears. It is the divine name God revealed to Moses. So at one level Jesus is reassuring his weary disciples that it is the one they know and have travel with coming to them on the sea and yet on another the Gospel writer wants to make it clear that the “I am,” The God of Abraham and Sarah; of Isaac and Rebekah; of Jacob and Rachel and Leah is present with the them in the midst of the storm. These are words of reassurance that we all wish to hear in the midst of storms that bring great terror.


Upon hearing his Lord’s words of reassurance, it is Peter as we could have only expected, who calls out to Jesus, asking if he can come and join him on the sea. Jesus invites Peter to step out of the relative safety of the boat, and do something he may never have imaged or dreamed of. And oddly enough Peter steps out of the boat and begins to walk toward Jesus on the stormy sea. Breaking all laws of physics, and what conventional wisdom teaches; shocking everyone in the boat, and possibly even Peter himself. One of my seminary professors, Stan Saunders said of this text, “Matthew is continuing not only to demonstrate the dimensions of Jesus’ identity and divine power, but to suggest that the same power is available to other human beings as well.”[2] The lines between what is possible and impossible, what is of this earth and what is of divine ability, what is real and what can only be imagined have been blurred so greatly, that one cannot be distinguished from the other. And in this blurring of worlds we see Peter walking on water.


The world we are living in is filled with storm after storm. And many of us feel as though we have been tossed to and fro and believe that the wind is against us. For the past few weeks we have been inundated with the chaos of the possibility of our nation defaulting and being unable to pay its bills, and sending our nation deeper into recession. And yet as this crisis was narrowly averted the divisions and divisiveness that were played out during this debate remain front and center overshadowing a weak economy and growing rates of unemployment. And the storms that rage are not limited to our political world; we can look within our own denomination at the stormy seas of change that have been brewing this summer. Changes to ordination standards are making it possible for those who have previously been bared from following their call are now finding a new openness for leadership within our church. And it is this change that has prompted some of our brother and sister in Christ to depart from our denomination, or to withhold their resources in an angry protest. And to add to these turbulent seas our denomination has also changed its Book of Order, an act that has forced churches and Presbyteries to reexamine how they function and operate, a not always pleasant or welcomed duty. And within this particular church the leaving of a beloved pastor creates uncertain days of searching for someone new to shepherd and guide this community. We each could add to this list of storms. Storms that are raging in the lives of our families, in our own lives. And on and on the list could go.


And with all of these storms that are raging in our lives, it would be easy to stay within our own personal boats or to stay within our own community and weather these storms. Because that would be the safe thing to do, it would be more comfortable, there would be little risk involved for us. And we could ride this storm out and face another day.


But again this text, I believe, does not allow us to stay complacent and comfortable. It challenges us to see our God at work where we would not have expected and to go and join helping to open the eyes and hearts to the Kingdom that is breaking in all around us. Our text this morning is not urging us to overcome our fears, but to confront the places of complacency and apathy in our lives.


Matthew leaves no room for the naïveté that all will be fine if we but follow, if we but get out of the boat, if we just confront our own complacency and apathy. For as soon as Peter realizes what he is doing and the magnitude of the storm around him confronts him once more, he begins to sink. He comes crashing back into this world once more not being able to sustain the needed vision to remain fully in the world that Jesus is ushering in. And as Peter sinks into the stormy sea he cries out for salvation, to which Jesus quickly grabs his floundering disciple, pulls him up, and says to him, “you of little faith, why did you doubt?”


Peter’s act of doubting and sinking into the sea remind us of the two worlds in which we are apart of, the world as we see and the world that we eagerly await to break fully into ours. A world that the Apostle Paul believes does not compare with the suffering we may face in this life. We await a world where walking on water is possible, and death and decay no longer hold sway over our lives, where there is enough food for everyone and all can find shelter from the elements. Yet like Peter we struggle to see this hoped for world breaking in all around us. The reality of the stormy sea challenged Peter’s vision and forced his mind to come back to a world where walking on water was impossible, and the boundaries between what was within human ability and those powers limited only to the divine were back in focus. We know Peter’s doubting well, because it is our doubt. We find ourselves standing between worlds, a world that we eagerly await and a world we see filled with storms that seem to strong and are pushing us to stay in our places of comfort and known safety, fearing that venturing out will cost us more then our lives.


And yet for us, as those who have tasted the first fruits, and have the Spirit of God moving within each and everyone of us, we are filled with hope. For it is the Spirit that helps us to confront our own doubts, and compelling us to leave our places of comfort, and relative safety, and step out in faith. We are given eyes to see the world as God sees it, and see a world that is breaking in every day all around us, and blurring the lines between what we know is possible, and what is only possible through the divine. And though the storms may overwhelm us at times, and give us reason to doubt, it is that same Spirit that reminds us that our Savior is there, and is able to catch us in our weakness, and will yet love us still.

Hallelujah and Amen.



[1] Griffith, Lee. God is subversive: peacemaking in a time of empire. (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans Pub., 2011.)

[2] Saunders, Stanley P. Preaching the Gospel of Matthew: Proclaiming God's Presence. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2010) p.147.



Saturday, March 26, 2011

Uncertain Days that lay ahead -Sermon for Final Assessment

Below, you will find the sermon that I am preaching for my final assessment meeting. For those who are not Presbyterian, this is the final stage before I am able to begin to "seek a call."

Any comments that would help strengthen this sermon would be appreciated.

Prayer of Illumination,

Oh Holy God, who calls to stay awake, strengthen our willing spirit and our weak flesh. Arouse us from the comfort of our slumbers with your Word. Prepare our hearts that we may follow you into the uncertainty of the days to come. Open our ears and eyes that we may hear your Word afresh this day. Amen


Our reading this morning is from The Gospel of Mark. I will be reading from the fourteenth chapter beginning with verse 32. Listen now to hear God’s Word to us…

32 They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray.’ 33He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. 34And he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.’ 35And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. 36He said, ‘Abba,* Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.’ 37He came and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, ‘Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? 38Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial;* the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’ 39And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. 40And once more he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to say to him. 41He came a third time and said to them, ‘Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come; the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 42Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.’


This is the Word of the Lord,

Thanks be to God.


As many of you have heard there is a little letter that has been floating around the Presbyterian Church for a number of weeks now. And there have been lots of conversations as well as numerous responses. This letter, which has become commonly known as the “Deathly Ill Church” letter, expresses in no uncertain terms that the PC(USA) is deathly ill. Years of decline and years of votes over contentious issues have led the writers to declare that this portion of the body of Christ is deathly ill.


As one might have suspected this letter has sparked a great deal of discussion and debate. Some have come out speaking in favor and yet others in opposition to the letter. The amounts of responses and conversations have become so great that one could easily become overwhelmed by the topic. And for some the sheer magnitude, diversity, and the highly charged emotions have proven to be to great. The letter has elicited in fear in some, and yet in others, it has become a call to arms, a time to speak out and take a stand. A number of friends at school have spoken of worries about what this will mean for the Church they are heading into and questioning if their gifts and talents will be better served elsewhere.

The response it has elicited in me, however, has been one of questioning. I have wondered what dose it mean to be the church in this age? How do we remain faithful to God in the face of uncertain days that lay ahead?


But beyond the questions that this letter raised within me, I believe that the letter has begun to stir a sleeping church. Calling us to wake up. We all have known for a while now that our church, the Presbyterian Church USA, and many other mainline churches like us, have been experiencing unprecedented decline in membership, shrinking budgets and a diminished place in society. But why did this letter, stating these facts, elicit such a strong response? Are large membership numbers, a big budget and status within society signs of God’s favor upon us, and symptoms of a healthy church? And the declining numbers, budgets and diminished role with society as symptoms of a deathly ill church?


I must state that I do not agree with the conclusions that the "Deathly Ill Church" Letter draws. I agree that the church is in decline, but I do not agree that the PC(USA) is deathly ill. I would argue that in some places the Presbyterian Church has been comfortably asleep. We have grown comfortable, believing that our influence, which we once held in society just a few decades before, would last forever. And as time has changed and membership numbers have declined as well as an increase in the rate of pastor burn out have become such commonplace realities that we just accept it as the way things are. And we look at the monuments of our glorious past, and dream of the “good old days.” We, like the disciples, have fallen asleep and are not fully aware of the importance of this hour.


As we come to our text today in Mark the disciples and Jesus are approaching the final days of Jesus life and earthly ministry. Unbeknownst to the disciples this is the final night in which they will be with this wandering Rabbi. As part of Passover, the disciples have traveled with Jesus to Jerusalem. They witnessed the triumphant entry into the city, with Jesus riding upon a colt, and the crowds shouting praises to him. The disciples were with Jesus when he cleansed the temple by driving “out those selling and those buying in the temple” and watched as he overturned the moneychangers’ tables. And He foretells of the temple as well as his telling of Jesus’ own death. But on this final night Jesus, having already shared a meal with his friends breaking bread and blessing the cup do they come “to a place called Gethsemane.”


Having traveled from the Mount of Olives, the disciples find themselves standing in Gethsemane. Jesus taking Peter, James and John a little further away reveals the deep distress that Jesus is feeling as his hour approaches. We should not be surprised that it is these three who Jesus reveals this too. Peter, James and John serve an important role in Mark’s Gospel. As it was these three who have been witnesses to the transfiguration and the raising of Jairus daughter from the dead. So we can assume that Peter, James and John had become comfortable witnessing some peculiar events. And yet now they are witnessing something completely different then they have seen before. They see Jesus, the same man who was transfigured on the mountain, who has the power to calm seas and raise people form the dead, nearly overcome with anguish. He tells them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death.” And all he asks of his friends is to “remain here, and keep awake.” And yet they can’t. Three times Jesus comes back from praying to find his closest disciples sleeping, and implores them two different times to keep awake. But their eyes “were very heavy” and they continued to fall asleep.


There is a connection that is drawn between the image of the sleeping disciples and Jesus’ final parable about the return of the Son of Man. In Mark 13, we hear Jesus tell a parable about a master of the house who leaves for a journey. He places his slaves in charge of the household with tasks to take care of. He commands the doorkeeper to keep watch or keep awake, more accurately. Saying, “For you do not know when the master of the house will come.” It would be a terrible situation when “he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.” So Jesus tells those gathered, “Keep awake.” Jesus is not urging those gathered to remain strong in the face of persecution but to be prepared, to keep awake, and to be vigilant.


It is clear within this parable that the master of the household is Jesus, and the slaves are the disciples and followers of Christ, and in turn you and I. And the disciples in Gethsemane were so comfortable, so use to witnessing things that Jesus did that they could not recognize the importance of this moment. They saw their master he was with them. Did they really need to keep awake? So they fell asleep, not once but three times. Jesus knew the importance of this hour and tried to convey it to his friends, but they were not yet ready to drink the cup that Jesus would drink from. A cup that Jesus prayed God would remove from him, but knew it was God’s will to drink of it. And it is the same cup that Jesus gave to his friends assuring them that it was the cup of a new covenant sealed in Jesus’ own blood. A cup that Jesus asked James and John if they were ready to take and be baptized in a baptism like Jesus’ own. And yet at this moment the disciples were not ready to drink of that cup. They were not prepared. They wished to remain asleep.


It would be too easy to condemn the disciples for their weakness, for not being prepared at that hour in this hour. But the disciples did drink of the cup. They were awoken and did encounter of the resurrected Jesus. As witnesses to God’s power over death, they were assured of the covenant sealed in Christ’s blood and they went to work, accomplishing the task they had been given knowing that their hour would come and that they too would have to drink of the cup.


It is clear that there are uncertain days that lay ahead for the Presbyterian Church. Each day we move closer and closer to the passage of amending our ordination standards, and on those very same days churches wrestle with whether to stay or leave. And in both cases people feel as though they are being faithful. I believe strongly that things will change within the Presbyterian Church USA. We will see churches that will feel that they must separate from us as we welcome in those who have been bared from fully following their call. This will open us to hearing God’s Word a new and following Jesus down paths that we never knew before. And the question remains is, are we going to wake up and face the uncertain days that lay ahead or are we going to remain sleeping. We, like the disciples, have a choice. We can remain asleep or we can wake up and face the hour that is here and drink the cup, or doze off back to sleep.


The wonderful thing that I failed to mention earlier about the passage was that no matter how many times the disciples were caught sleeping, Jesus never gave up on them. He returned time and again to wake them, stir them from their slumbers, remind them of their duty, to remain awake and pray. And he knew “indeed the spirit is willing and the flesh is weak.” And the same is true with the church. Jesus has not given up on us. Though we may be asleep at times, Jesus returns and awakes us, calling us to get up, to keep awake and pray, to take the cup, and reminds us of the work that is to be done.


Uncertain days lay before us. Unlike the disciples, we know what lies before Jesus in the Gospel, Golgotha and the cross. And yet three days later we know the tomb will be found empty. For we know the promise is true because of the witness of the sleepy disciples who Jesus never gave up on. So we have work to do friends. The master of the household has not returned, so we must remain awake and do the work that we have been given even in these uncertain days.


Hallelujah and Amen

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Let's Try This Once More... Reflecting on a Sunday

As Lent is quickly approaching and as I continue to think about my vocation and how to live it out following seminary, I have returned once more to this blog. A place that when I began it was intended to be a space for me to reflect and ponder things that I had been exploring in classes or in the world. But quickly this blog became neglected and forgotten, as evident by an almost two year lapse in posting. But as I see my vocation not as one who preaches but as one who is called to teach and write, I feel I must begin to practice writing, reflecting and sharing.

So it is that my goal is to begin to write here once more. Posting whatever comes through my head and exploring ideas. So here goes...

It is Sunday evening and I have been reflecting all day on worship this morning. My Wife Ame and I have been attending Central Presbyterian Church in Atlanta while I have been in seminary. It is a worshiping community that we have come to deeply love and are nurtured there. We have found it refreshing and challenging that the church as a community takes stands on what is happening outside of the doors of this beautiful downtown church. This active stance on Social Justice was evident this morning during worship as a member of the congregation got up to talk about the church's plans for Lent. The church is planning to focus the congregation's attention to social issues within the community of Atlanta. As the member described the church's devotional guide and how it could move the community to take actions to resolve the issues facing the community, she was moved to tears as she asked, "how can we be a people of faith and not find solutions to AIDS, homelessness, poverty and inequality?" (Those are not exactly her words but what I got from her words.) And as I sat and listen to this woman stand behind the table of our Lord, I was moved nearly to tears as I reflected on the brokenness of our world and our apathy and failure to do more.

Matthew 5:6-9

6‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

7 ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

8 ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

9 ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.


Before I could throw myself a deeper pitty party it was time to pass the collection plate. I noticed a little boy in the row in front of me who I could see was eagerly awaiting the collection plate to come down his row. And as the plate reached him, he took it from his dad and took a couple of steps and passed it to the gentleman seated near him. And as this young child quickly ran back to his dad, I noticed a huge grin on his face. And a since of joy washed over me. This young child was so eager to just touch the plate that held the money that would help fund the mission of this church that he could hardly contain it. You could see that this mattered deeply to this boy and in that moment I saw how the church was to be, a little child with such excitement to just touch the mission work of the church.

It was just moments later as the congregation was taking communion by intinction, I saw a little girl who moving quicker then her parents was headed up to the front. She looked over her shoulder for her parents who were quickly in tow, giving a look of "hurry up." Again the excitement of this young child was a blessing. Again I thought, "This is how we should be. We should have an eager anticipation as we approach the table."
Matthew 19:14
"but Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs."
So challenged with the Kingdom of God breaking but not complete I go into this next week. Fed at the table and challenged to act.