What Do You See

 Luke 24:36-48 NRSVUE

While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see, for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. Yet for all their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering, and he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence.

Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.

If there is one consistent theme that presents itself in the stories of Jesus' resurrection is that nobody seems to recognize him.

It starts, of course, at the tomb, and it doesn't matter which Gospel or resurrection story you choose.

My favorite resurrection day story is found in the Gospel of Mark, because it is so brief.  

Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Salome come to the tomb early resurrection morning and find it empty and a young man there.  

And that is it.  

Was the young man Jesus?, 

Is he risen?

We have no idea.

John’s gospel, which we heard from on Easter Sunday and last Sunday, tells us that Mary is convinced she is talking with a gardener, before she realizes it is Jesus.  And the disciples were so moved by meeting Jesus in the locked room that JoAnne shared about last week, that in the next chapter they return back to their boats on the Sea of Galilee and have no idea that it is Jesus that they encounter.

Then of course there is Luke, where the two people are walking along with a stranger on their way to Emmaus and they have no idea that the stranger is actually Jesus.

It was that encounter that the disciples were talking about when our story begins.

Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified and thought that they were seeing a ghost.

These stories always bothered me — 

How could these disciples who had followed Jesus around during his ministry not have recognized him?

How could they think they were seeing a ghost?

How many of you got the opportunity to experience the eclipse this past Monday?

I remember as a kid building a box to experience an eclipse

And I was pastoring in Indianapolis in 2017 during the last major eclipse — the whole staff was out in the parking lot in awe of God’s creative beauty.

Nancy and I drove down to Indianapolis early Monday morning to spend the afternoon with the house group that we were a part of at Meridian Street UMC and experience the TOTAL eclipse together.

Watching in 2017 was amazing — but experiencing the total eclipse was out of this world.

Especially in the company of friends

Now the drive back was also out of this world — it took about twice as long as normal.

But what struck me were the comments of numerous religious leaders (some of them friends) who were convinced that the eclipse (that are naturally occurring events throughout history and can be precisely predicted in the future) were supernatural manifestations of God giving a warning specifically to the American people.

Too many pastors were calling the eclipse the beginning of the end — or even the rapture.

Well, we are all here, so we obviously were not taken up — I am not sure if that says something about us — but just to be certain I checked with the living saints that I know — and none of them were taken either.

But for the first time in my life — I understand why people trek around the world to experience a total eclipse.

What intrigues about our gospel story is —- what is it that we see?

I believe that it was the late Marcus Borg who said that the resurrection was not a Kodak moment.  Meaning that you could not photograph or videotape it.

That seems somewhat clear enough in our story, when the disciples are convinced that what they are seeing is a ghost.

But also very obvious, when in the story of the walk to Emmaus, the stranger/Jesus simply disappears.

Why is it — that Jesus can be standing right in front of us — and we can’t see him?

It reminds me of one of my favorite phrases that my mother always used to say about losing things in plain sight

If it were a snake (she would say) --- it would have bit you

Too often our lives become:

Too busy

too complicated

so confusing

that it becomes easy to fail to notice all that is going on around you

A dear friend of mine, who is a pastor in Indiana tells a great story about a time when he was spending a semester of college in Germany. This story took place almost 45 years ago.

He had been having a great time --- but he says he remembers becoming very homesick

During the semester he had to have his appendix removed and he spent quite a bit of time in the hospital

He had the opportunity to visit East Germany (for those of you who don't remember --- this was before the wall separating the East and the West existed and Germany was reunified)

That visit made him long for the USA and home

During a break from school his parents decided to come and visit him

His parents flew into Brussels and Mark had to take the train to meet them

He recalls that he got there a couple of hours after their plane was set to land, so he went directly to the hotel they were staying at to meet them

When he arrived at the hotel he found that they had yet to check in, so he left a note with the front desk that he was going to go across the street to a little cafe and have some breakfast and that they should come and join him when they arrived.

As he turned to head to the cafe --- he saw his mother and father walking into the hotel

Mark says that he dropped what he was doing and ran over and embraced his dad

His dad, so startled by the experience called out:

"Please let go of me --- I am just a tourist --- I just arrived"

His dad failed to recognize who it was that was embracing him

I know --- you are all telling me that story is ridiculous --- that it would never happen --- BUT IT DID

If you remember our Easter Gospel story is virtually identical

Mary Magdalene has come to the tomb early on that first Easter

She finds that the stone which had blocked the tomb had been rolled away

While standing there perplexed she meets a man at the tomb who asks her

"Woman, why are you crying?  Whom do you seek?"

Mary was certain that it was the gardener and so she asks him what has happened to the body of Jesus --- for she wanted to go and prepare the body for burial

Mary FAILED TO RECOGNIZE that the person she was talking to was actually Jesus

But that NEVER happens — and yet the resurrection stories are filled with times where Jesus' disciples FAILED to recognize him.

And even with the life changing resurrection stories we have — we find the disciples in the Gospels all going back to what they used to do — fishing 

Do you think you would recognize Jesus if he came alongside you today?

How would you know it was him?

One year when I was working with the confirmation class, I asked that question, and I loved their answers

They were of course all over the place

But my favorite of all time has to be when one of the students replied:

"That's easy, I would recognize him because his clothes would be old and he’d look funny."

But seriously --- how would you recognize Jesus today?

Frederick Buechner in his book The Magnificent Defeat writes about finding Jesus when we fail to recognize him:

. . . it is precisely at such times as this that Jesus is apt to come, into the very midst of life at its most real and inescapable. Not in a blaze of unearthly light, not in the midst of a sermon, not in the throes of some kind of religious daydream, but . . . at supper time, or walking along a road. This is the element that all the stories about Christ's return to life have in common: Mary waiting at the empty tomb and suddenly turning around to see somebody standing there—someone she thought at first was the gardener; all the disciples except Thomas hiding out in a locked house, and then his coming and standing in the midst; and later, when Thomas was there, his coming again and standing in the midst; Peter taking his boat back after a night at sea, and there on the shore, near a little fire of coals, a familiar figure asking, "Children, have you any fish?"; the two men at Emmaus who knew him in the breaking of the bread. He never approached from on high, but always in the midst, in the midst of people, in the midst of real life and the questions that real life asks. . . . The sacred moments of miracle, are often the everyday moments, the moments which, if we do not look with more than our eyes, or listen with more than our ears, reveal only . . . the gardener

Somehow we have to open our inner eyes

The eyes that touch our heart

so that we will not just see a stranger, not just see a simple gardener

But so that we might see Jesus

I asked this question — HOW DO WE SEE JESUS TODAY — on my facebook page and the answers that people gave were telling:

Nature — spring flowers — hiking in the mountains

People’s kindness — toward a sister being cared for in a healthcare center

In people who are living with courage to make the world a better place — to bring God’s justice and equality

In a child or grandchild’s budding faith

During World War II a Christian woman in Germany did all that she could do to help save the Jews from persecution (and often death)

Because of her efforts she was arrested by the Nazis and found herself sent off to a concentration camp.

While in the camp she begged the guards to let her hold an Easter service for the other Christians in the camp.

After a great deal of debate she was finally allowed to hold a service --- but was told that it could only last 5 minutes

They spent the five minutes singing hymns and reading the Easter story --- and when the five minutes were over --- the guard came and whisked the prisoners off to their cells

She too was thrown back into her cell --- and the door was slammed behind her

As she lay on her cot in the bare cell --- there was a noise at the window and a guard passed an Easter lily into her cell.

Jesus was real and present in that moment

HOW DO YOU SEE JESUS?

Where do you see Jesus?

Do you miss him, or do you find him in the little things?

One of the things that I am convinced of --- is that Easter was not a one and done experience.

Nor is it just a once a year celebration

Easter is WHENEVER we encounter Jesus.

at the tomb

walking along the road

at the grocery store

at work

in the midst of our family

One of the places that I see Jesus is in the rite of Baptism and the eucharist

I invite you to Open your eyes and see Jesus all around you

In the beauty of creation

And in each other

As many of you know — I have a profound love for “The Holy Lands”

My heart breaks for my Palestinian brothers and sisters who are living in an extreme crisis

My heart breaks for my Israeli brothers and sisters who are seeking peace while their government seeks war

My heart breaks for all people who think guns and bombs are the answers to our problems

Nancy and I were supposed to go back to Israel this past January — obviously we didn’t.

But one of the places I saw Jesus was in the Royal Plaza and Caesar hotels

It was easy to see Jesus in the eyes of the pilgrims we met

The place that startled me was seeing Jesus in the Palestinian and Israeli workers.

These Jewish and Muslim sisters and brothers showed me Jesus every day in the ways that they cared for those pilgrims, and in the ways that they helped me to be a better helper.  

They took me under their wings and loved on me!

THAT WAS JESUS!

Where do you see Jesus?

If you are not sure — open your eyes --- for Jesus is all around you

And if you do see Jesus --- don't keep Jesus to yourself --- share Jesus with as many as you can

Not through words

Through love

The good news --- as we journey through life --- is that the story of Jesus is NEVER ENDING

Easter is everyday

Jesus is always with us --- if we will just open our eyes and embrace his love

The Last Kingdom

I am a huge fan of Steve Berry’s Cotton Malone series.  Over the years I am always started by not only the twists that take place, but also by the skilled way in which Berry weaves together the story in a plausible and compelling way.

First, let me say that I thoroughly enjoyed Berry’s latest offering in the Malone series: The Last Kingdom. Berry is always able to weave tidbits of historical facts in his fiction which makes the story.

The story centers around the enigmatic King Ludwig II of Bavaria, from the house of Wittelsbach, who because of eccentricity was deposed in 1886 and three days later was found mysteriously dead from drowning.  Despite his massive building campaigns; Neuschwanstein Castle, Linderhof Palace, and Herrenchiemsee and his devotion to the composer Richard Wagner, he is remembered for his desire to find a last kingdom. Hence the title and premise of the book.

I enjoyed following Cotton through the great castles that Ludwig built as he chases the secret of the Last Kingdom to find the deed before the bad guys do.  To read a book of this nature one must suspend some logical belief, but I have always enjoyed that Berry is able to keep that to a minimum.  For whatever reason, he seemed to push the envelope a bit farther this time and there were a couple of incidents where one just had to throw up their hands.

Overall it was a very satisfying book, but definitely not one of the best in the series.  I would highly recommend it to anyone who likes historical fiction and mystery.

Opening One's Eyes

For the second Sunday since arriving in Tiberias, we attended St. Andrew’s Church, a part of the Church of Scotland in the Holy Land.  Last week, Rev. Muriel Pearson preached a wonderful sermon based on the woman at the well in John’s Gospel.  Fifteen or so, many visitors like us, were present to share in the worship and gather together around the table.  Today, the Rev. Dr. Steward Gillan preached and presided over the table.  Again, there may have been 15 of us in attendance.

What was special about today, is that Nancy, Sara and I were invited to share the Gospel reading.  It came from John’s Gospel, the entire 9th chapter.  It was the first time I participated in worship since retiring.  Rev. Gillan reminded us that we don’t all see the same way — and that sometimes when we think we see, we are really blind (see the end of the story).  I loved how he tied it all together.  The theme is something that I struggle with because most people prefer certainty (particularly their own understanding of certainty) to living in the gray.  The older I get, I have come to realize that none of us have it completely figured out.  And asking the questions is not anathema to faith, but instead is honoring God.

It also brought into clearer focus the difference between pilgrims and tourists.  Richard Rohr’s devotion the first week of March was all about pilgrimage.  As I prayed through those devotions, I found myself wanting to be an even better guide to those who are here on a pilgrimage.  Tourism is not a bad thing, and I will admit, that while in Israel I am often a tourist — but there is something powerful about seeking God in the moment that one finds oneself (and isn’t that what being a pilgrim is all about?)  I am seeking to listen more and talk less.  Hear where the spirit is moving in people’s lives and do my best to open them up to that opportunity.

I am thankful that Matt Landry opened me up to Richard Rohr years ago.  Rohr’s understanding of the universal christ (finding the christ in every thing) has been life changing for me.  It has helped me to be a better pilgrim for God’s love.

Happy birthday Dad

Today would have been my father’s 90th birthday.  Even to write that seems strange, for to me he will perpetually be a man in his 50’s or 60’s (which is weird because I am 62 and he was definitely older than me). Even as he declined rapidly the last couple years of his life, I would catch glimmers of the father that I knew and will always love.  He was, and always will be my hero.  

I am the man that I am today, because of his influence.  Even though my temperament is more like my mom, I followed the path that I followed, because of my dad.  Like so many others, I followed my father into the ministry.  And yes, I had a very personal call to go into ministry.  Yet, I often wonder if my father made me more likely to hear, and have the tools to respond to that call.

For most of my ministry, every Sunday afternoon, I would call and we would talk about church.  I sometimes ponder if that didn’t add to his longing to be young again and back in the trenches.  The hardest thing for me, in my last few years in active ministry was not to have him to talk to on a regular basis.

As I enter into my sunset years, I am forced to contemplate the what if’s of my life.  How different it would have been if things had happened differently.  I was on a dangerous path when we lived in Roselle, and was given a new chance when we moved to Glenview in 1972.  If that had not happened — I cannot even imagine where my life would have ended up.  What if my dad decided to risk everything and move to Florida like he really wanted?  What if the bishop had forced my dad to move to Court Street in Elgin in the mid 70’s while I would have been in High School?

When I look back, I see the wisdom that my father possessed in navigating the treacherous waters of the UMC.  Maybe that is why, when I decided to answer my call to ministry, he strongly encouraged me to leave the UMC and find a home in a different denomination.  Obviously I didn’t, but 40 years later, I can acknowledge his wisdom.

I went to Duke Divinity School because I wanted to reclaim my southern roots.  Instead I found a life partner in Nancy.

I miss my dad every day.  He was (is) my rock.  But one of the blessings that has happened since his death is how close I have become with my mother.  When I would call when my dad was alive, my mother and I had only brief conversations on the phone.  And when I would visit, my father enjoyed being the center of attention.  But now, my mom and I have really grown.  Nancy and I moved back to the Chicagoland area to be closer to her.  I try to visit every week, and we chat regularly.  And the biggest bonus has been getting to know her life story more closely.  My dad wrote out his story, and I am working on putting it into a shareable form for the family.  But my mom didn’t have the opportunity to share her story as much.  Now I am learning it.

Saturday, we drove out to Rockford to spend some time with her sister, my Aunt Doris.  On Sunday, February 19th she celebrated her 102!! Birthday.  She cannot get around much, but her mind is sharp and I love listening to my mom and her tell stories.  My cousin Jerry was also there with his wife Joan, and his son Josh and his wife Kelli.  It was so much fun.

Happy Birthday Doris and Fred

Africatown, a story that needs to be told

Wow, I am not even sure where to start.  Africatown is a well written, disturbing book that reminds us that we still have a long way to go.  The story of the shipmates and how they were captured in Africa and brought to Alabama despite the illegality of importing slaves is a sad chapter in our history.  I was reminded again and again that slavery, discrimination and bigotry did not end with the Civil War.  

While the story of their journey on the Clotilda was  heartbreaking, it was the resilience of the shipmates that is the real story.  Despite the continued marginalization of the residence of Plateau and Magazine, Alabama the story has remained to be told.  I think what struck me the most was the reluctance of the Reagan Administration (Particularly Secretary of the Interior James Watt) to recognize the importance of Africatown, and how this was not a unique story.

in 1972, the National Park Service gave a private group, the Afro-American Bicentennial Corporation, the funding to carry out a sweeping survey of these landmarks. An early ABC report made a stinging critique of the park system’s criteria for designating historic sites. “It is organized to cover American history from a white American’s perspective,” the group wrote in 1973. “There appears to be a marked reluctance on the part of NPS to openly deal with some of the less appealing aspects of American history, especially slavery … Although the past cannot be changed, it can be honestly faced, and the future can be made differently.”

It is not an easy, or light read, but I highly recommend Nick Taylor’s book Africatown, and as a result I am sure I will do more reading on the last slave ship that came to the USA.

My only complaint about this edition of the book (uncorrected digital copy) is the failure to link footnotes and the occasional need for editing.  I received this book for free for an unbiased review.

#Africatown

#NickTabor

International Holocaust Remembrance Day

Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day, in which we remember and honor those that were murdered by the Nazis in the concentration camps.  This date was chosen because it is the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.  I have not had the privilege of visiting any of the former concentration camp sites, but I have visited Yad Vashem in Jerusalem on multiple occasions.  This picture is one of my favorites that I took on one of the visits, it is taken of a train cattle-car that was used to haul innocent people to their deaths.  Most people see this from eye level, but I walked around and took this from below, it is appropriately called – train car to oblivion.

On this remembrance day, I hope you will take time to pause and remember.  But don’t stop there — look for ways that you can bring peace.  Peace to your family, peace to your community, peace to the world.

I am almost finished with one of the most disturbing books that I have read in a long time.  It is Assassins by Mike Bond.  My high school English teachers would have a field day with the writing style and syntax, but it was the themes that disturbed me the most.

The story begins in Afghanistan, as the US takes the decision to use the local Afghanis to bottle up the Soviet Union who had invaded the country.  The main protagonist is Jack, and the book tells snippets of his life story, as we learn he is a paramilitary commando hired by (I assume) the CIA. I found the beginning of the book fascinating.  As the story continues we move from the 1982 all the way to 2015 with “Jack” involved in all kinds of undercover operations from Iraq to Pakistan.  There were two things that I found disconcerting.  First, he touched on my deep and hidden Islamophobia.  Time and time again, he made my prejudices come to the surface.  Sometimes he challenged that phobia, other times he massaged it and made it more comfortable.  The second issue was with his take on the history of the period.  I found myself going back and forth, looking up claims that he made about the US government and its role in events from US funding of the Mujahedeen and Taliban, to the knowledge and role that Bush played in 9/11.  Did the US government know about the potential attack on the twin towers beforehand?  Did Bush know that there were no WMDs in Iraq?  Did we have opportunities to eliminate Osama Bin Laden earlier and intentionally let them pass?  All those and other perplexing questions are left for you to wrestle with.

In the second half of the book, the story gets lost in all of these questions, and at times I am not sure of the point he is trying to make.  But clearly the overall thrust is found when he quotes Longfellow about ⅔’s of the way through the book.

If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.

In the end, I think Bond is trying to remind us that violence is a vicious circle and the more we use violence to quash our enemies, the more enemies we make.  His storytelling is okay, but it gets lost in his trying to outline what went wrong with US policy in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Not sure I would read another one of his books.

Cancel Culture and Dr King

One of my traditions over the years was to preach on, or about Dr. Martin Luther King on his birthday weekend. One year, the weather was horrible and very few people came to church, so at the last minute we decided to invite random parishioners to read selections from King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail.  It was one of the most powerful Sunday worship services that I have been a part of. If you have never read it, I highly suggest you take the time.  But be warned, it is a damning letter to those of us in the white Christian privileged community.  His words ring true today as much as they did when he wrote them in April of 1963.  Today at church, the pastor shared a sermon that was centered around Martin, and I appreciated being reminded of another great speech of his that is often forgotten: The Drum Major Instinct.  Martin invites us to ponder and ruminate over what we want to be remembered for.  He gave that sermon in February of 1968, we all know what happened just a few months later in Memphis.

Right now, we are on another one of our “cancel culture” silliness campaigns.  A while ago, it was reported in the media that gas stoves are dangerous and there might (and I emphasize that it is only a MIGHT) be a plan of banning gas stoves in the future.  OMG you would have thought the world was coming to an end for some people.  It brought out all those who screamed about a private company coming to the realization that their brand was racist (which it was) and they needed to change their image.  Can you imagine if they decided to try pass seat belt laws today??  Or stop cigarette ads?  We would all go crazy and lose our minds.  Or if they decided to ban regular gas because it was more harmful to the environment, oh wait, they did..  I love gas stoves, I prefer a gas stove, but recognizing that most houses do not have adequate ventilation (or we don’t use it) is a good thing to be reminded how potentially dangerous they can be.  I am thankful that there are people out there who are trying to make our lives safer (and also trying to save us from destroying our planet).

A number of times when I have preached about MLK I have quoted from his sermons.  When I quote from someone's material I try not to change it, although if I am honest, sometimes I do.  But this particular time I quoted Martin using the n-word.  For me, it seemed important to acknowledge that once upon a time it was a common word to use, and that we have moved beyond it.  But hearing that word, I think, in context, can help us understand better how powerfully negative it could be.  

Following the service, I got reamed out by a young person.  They were offended that I used that particular word.  I tried to explain that I didn’t use the word, but that Martin did and he was trying to show how disgusting it is.  It didn't matter, in their mind I needed to be canceled.  I took their concern seriously, and I don’t know what I would do in the future, but I certainly don’t want the word canceled from the historical record.  It is a reminder of how thoroughly we denigrate our brothers and sisters.

A lot has changed since 1968, but a lot has stayed the same.  We still tend to put people into boxes to identify them.  We still tend to try and better ourselves, at the expense of others.  I am grateful for Dr. Martin Luther King: he set a model for me to attempt to follow in my life.  One of the most humbling experiences  of my life happened after the floods that devastated Northwest Indiana in 2008.  At a North District United Methodist meeting, the district superintendent singled me out for my role in LARRI (you can learn about it here), the flood recovery group I was a part of from 2008-2011.  She called me the Martin Luther King of the area, because we were seeking justice for our neighbors who were devastated by the floods.  I am no MLK, but to be even mentioned in the same breath reminds me of my Drum Major Instinct.  My prayer is that Dr. King will continue to influence each of us to strive to become our best self.   Peace my friends.

Abraham, Martin & John by Dion 

This is a great version by Tom Clay

You Are Loved

On this Sunday in which we celebrate and remember the Baptism of Jesus, I wanted to take a moment and share some thoughts. It is fascinating experiencing church from the other side.  Having now had seven months to deprogram the way that I have always experienced church, I am beginning to see things with different eyes. One of the things that has come into clearer focus is the language that we use to describe our relationship with God.  How do we understand the relationship between us and God?  

Of course this can go a number of ways.  When we describe God — what are the words that we use?  Male pronouns, father, neutral terms, or even as mother?  Is God angry, vengeful, full of wrath, or compassionate and loving?  The funny thing that I have noticed is that often we describe God in multiple, often contradicting ways.  God is a God of love, but God also needs to have us confess our failures (to earn that love?).   It doesn't always make sense and it can cause mental whiplash, or at least some deft mental gymnastics.  My guess is that most of us don’t even notice because we have become accustomed to the verbal descriptions. 

But the biggest thing we often do (and I hope it is subconsciously and not intentionally) is use God to shame us.  Shame is an interesting thing, and from what I have heard, one of the biggest reasons young people don’t go to church.  They want to be challenged, but they don’t want (or need) to be shamed. And there is a huge difference in inviting someone to grow without telling them how bad they are.

I am sure that you can all point to times when I used shame — and for that I am extremely sorry.  It unfortunately, is such a big part of religion that at times we don’t even realize that we (me) are doing it. There has always been in the back of my head a saying my mother taught me: “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”  I am not sure why the church hasn’t understood that principle.

Too often our prayers are ones of shaming us about the things we are not doing, instead of encouraging the strides we are making.  No, I don’t think we should hide our failures, but instead of rubbing our noses in them, we need to use them to “fail forward.”  Richard Rohr has been influential in helping me to stop making everything transactional — to recognize that life isn’t about winning.  It's about relationship with God and each other, even when those relationships are not perfect.

If you have never read Nadia Bolz-Weber’s book Shameless, I recommend it to you.  I guarantee that she will make you feel uncomfortable, and challenge some closely held beliefs, but she also will help free you to see yourself (and the people around you) in a new way.

On this day of remembering the baptism of Jesus, let us also remember our own baptism.  Feel the waters that mark you as a follower of Jesus.  We are baptized not because we are evil or bad, but because we have chosen to follow the way of Jesus.  We are saved not from the fires of hell, but into a new way to see each other and all of God’s creation.  You are loved — a beloved child of God!

So What?

My last Sunday preaching was June 5th of this past year. It has been enlightening to visit a number of churches to see how others do worship.  A number of things have become evident, the biggest being we seem to have lost the art of hospitality (if we ever had it) but that is a topic for another day.  One of the biggest realizations is that many pastors have no idea what the purpose of a sermon is.

I am sure I had this same problem, but somewhere along the line I decided I needed to ask myself a question each week as I prepared my sermon.  “So What?”  So what if I preach this message — or of course, another way to say that is, what is it I am trying to accomplish with this message. Yet I will be the first to admit, sometimes I forgot this important question.

Too often it feels like a pastor has an idea, but doesn’t know what to do with it; or maybe more importantly, what I (as listener) am to do with it.  A sermon should do a couple of things.  First it should inspire.  Inspire awe in God, inspire awe in creation, inspire awe in humanity, inspire awe in possibilities.  Most of the sermons I have heard do a decent job of doing that.  Secondly, and relatedly, a sermon should teach.  It should illuminate the text (inspire awe in the text) that makes me want to learn more about the situation in which they are placing the sermon.  I want to feel like I learned something about the biblical story that is the core of the sermon.  Again, at least with the majority of the sermons we have heard, the preacher has done a good job at that.  As one woman said today, she really likes her pastor because he is such a good teacher.  

It is the final part that often seems to be missing.  WHAT IS THE POINT?  What is the takeaway for me to chew on this afternoon and week?  What is it that God is calling me to do?  The SO WHAT question.  How is this sermon causing me to grow, change, or at least challenge some of my encultured assumptions.  Rare is the sermon that seems to do that.  Often I leave feeling like the pastor was unsure, or timid to share what the message is calling me to do.  Maybe they are hoping that I will get there on my own, but really??

This really hit me when a church we were visiting had a lay person preaching.  He was very knowledgeable about the text, but seemed afraid to share what the text was inviting us to do.  I don't think this was just his problem. Unfortunately, I have encountered some level of this many of the Sunday’s we have attended church.  

Of course there is always the other extreme --- a sermon that is all about the how you are to live, but very little to do with the actual understanding of the biblical story. I am not sure that is helpful either because at least in my experience, the biblical exegesis that is done is rather shoddy and fixed to the point being made (proof texting anyone . . .). Somehow we need to develop balance. Quality scholarship, along with a message that has real and practical impact on my life and the betterment of society.

Don’t get me wrong, I am happy to be sitting on the sidelines.  I am thankful for having had amazing mentors, teachers, and colleagues who helped me grow as a preacher/teacher.  I hope and pray that I can do the same for others.