Author: Sara Palmer

  • Holy gifts, wholly giving…island style

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    Holy Gifts, Wholly Giving.. Island-Style

    Habakkuk 1:1-11

    Neal D. Presa Village Community Presbyterian Church, Rancho Santa Pe, California, and North-West University, Potschefstroom, South Africa

    Sermon for Cpening Convocation, Columbia Theological Seminary, 2013

    “I can hear you, but 1 can’t see you,” so said my youngest son on iPhone PaceTime. From Decatur to Damascus: The Senate bill is ready. The gunship cannons are on red alert. I’m not ready, are you? All the women, the children, the families: will they be ready? ٧١٠٧can anyone be ready for their death, destruction, dismemberment? We hear about degrading Assad’s ability to use chemical weapons. What about our souls being further degraded, diminished, demolished? When fire rains down from the heavens, can we still march in the light ٤٠Cod? “I can hear you, but I can’t see you.” Habakkuk needs an “ardent embrace,” a great big hug. There’s no hugging in this chapter nor in any of the four. I like Habakkuk . It’s an honest, open-ended conversation with the Almighty, the Creator of this broken and hurting world, with broken and hurting people. What we need is FaceTime with God: Hand-to-hand combat asJacobdid wrestling the angel, as Hannah did in pouring out her tears in the Temple, as Mary’s Magnificat does, as presidents do when fiindraising needs to happen, as faculty do when tenure ٢٠ promotion reviews come, as staff do when deadlines approach, as students do when there’s that paper, that verbatim, that dang ordination exam to prepare. We need an ardent embrace. We’re all Habakkuks: we need to embrace Cod: God’s heart, Cod’s mind. Even more, we need God to embrace us, to embrace this world: Babylon to Judah, Damascus to Decatur. “Took at the nations, and see! Be astonished! Be astounded!” Habakkuk cries out to God “Wake up, God. Embrace it, God. Embrace us. Seattle pastor and blogger Eugene Cho tweeted on August 30: “The best way to become a better storyteller is to simply live a better life. Not a perfect life, but one of honesty, integrity, and passion.” These are gifts of God, graces of God: an anchoring in the heart and mind ٤٠God, a delighting in God, as Jesus does with the Father. Honesty, integrity, and passion; Habakkuk’s mind, heart, soul. This is changing his whole being, his whole perception, his reception ٤٠the world outside and inside. Honesty, integrity, passion: this is being encoded and emblazoned on his life and with yours. ¥ ٧٠are being apprenticed in the ways of Jesus Christ. ¥ ٧٠can hear the prayer, as your heart is apprenticed, being shaped and formed into God’s own. “I need FaceTime with God,” Habakkuk cries out for honesty, integrity, and passion from God. It’s as if he cries out, “God, I need you to be honest. God, I need you to have integrity; God, I need you to be passionate because we are suffering.” Habakkuk’s cry is honest, passionate prayer with integrity, a no-holds barred, real relationship with God. That’s what your ministry in this place is: a lifelong apprenticeship in prayer, being anchored to the heart and mind ٠٤God, to ardently embrace what God ardently

    Journalfor Preachers


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    embraces, to ardently embrace whom God ardently embraces, God’s Son, God’s Anointed One to whom holy giffs have been wholly given. To embrace the Anointed One, to be embraced by toe Anointed One through Christ, with Christ, in Christ is to embrace the world in Him. From Deeatu!־ to Damascus, we cry, “1 can hear you, but I can’t see you.” In toe worlds of theology, history, preaching and worship, pastoral care, leadership, biblical studies, ethics, feminist studies, post-colonial studies, ecumenical theology, world Christianity, missional theology, we sometimes feel or say, “I can hear you, but I can’t see you.” Or sometimes we can feel that as in؟uirers, candidates for ordination, or being certified ready to receive a call. Think of your MIFs (ministry information forms). Don’t get miffed if your call becomes a part-time one ٢٠if your call involves two ٢٠toree yoked congregations. “I can hear you, but I can’t see you.” What if that call doesn’t come? Or what if your call takes you to a distant land, with dirt roads, with spotty ٢٠no WiFi coverage? “Oh no!” you might be tempted to think. “I can hear, but I can’t see you.” ¥ ٧٠are being apprenticed to a lifetime of prayer, of communing with toe heart of God as God communes with you. I am Filipino American bom on toe Facific island of Guam. ¥ ٧٠can drive around toe whole island in two hours. On a little island you can only do three things: eat, party, and swim. As with any island party, you invite your next door neighbor. ¥ ٧٠ don’t use Evite; just a word to come on over will do. Tell one neighbor and that neighbor will tell other neighbors. The expectation is that everyone will bring toe whole household, toe whole clan. Eventually blocks of people come, not necessarily for a birthday or an anniversary, but just to come. ¥ ٧٠eat, you sing karaoke, you dance, you talk about other people. $ome call it gossip; in Christian circles, we call it sharing prayer concerns! ¥ ٧٠eat, you party, and you swim into toe early morning. Then you go home. But before you do, you get aluminum foil and you pack food, a lot of food. ¥ ٧٠go home and you tell people about toe wonderful party, of what you have seen and heard. In the islands, we make a distinction between eating, dining, and feasting. Eating is toe function of putting food in your mouth. Dining is eating, but with rules, protocols, eti؟uette, forks, knives. Feasting, which is what we do on toe island, is using your fingers and your hands. It’s bringing your family, it’s bringing toe joys and strains ٨۴ life, to to« table. It’sabouthonesty,integrity,passion—apprenticeship in lifelongprayer in honesty, integrity, and passion. It’s about feasting: giving your whole self to God, crying out to God, “I can hear you, but I don’t see you,” even as God gives God’s whole self to

    It’s a mutual feasting: God and you and us, in mutual feasting, opening our lives to each other, fully, honestly, passionately. Open your lifo to toe world in love. At this Table, this feastTable, where we bring ourselves, where we bring toe prayers for toe world, where we offer toe prayers of the world: “I can hear you, but I can’t see you.” But then, toe apprenticeship was nearly complete, for toe Gospel says, “When he took the bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it to them, then their eyes were opened, and toey recognized him.” Come, and hear! Come, and taste! a d see! Come, and feast!

    Advent 2014

  • Sermon notes from a jazzman

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    Sermon Notesfrom a Jazzman

    Robert Young

    West Chester, Pennsylvania

    A few weeks ago, a jazzman roused in me the remembrance of a ^ ach in g prineiple . It goes by many names. He ealled it the importanee of “the absence of sound,” a.k.a. the pause. The jazzman was Buster Williams, now 70. He has jammed with the likes of Miles Davis, Count Basie, Herbie Haneoek, Sarah Vaughan, and Naney Wilson. Reeently he spent three days at a Montgomery County private sehool doing what he eould to make sure a new generation will piek up the beat in the twenty-first eentury. He was listening as Exteen-year-old Alex Wood played the jazz standard ”Misty” on the piano. But Williams was listening for a (Quality he ealled “the absence of sound.” Then he elaborated, “Allow the spaee and the air in the musie to be part of the improvisation.” On that afternoon in Jenkintown, his words struek a chord, the reporter wrote. Wood played again, and there was more nuance as he lowed, allowing quiet moments in the music instead of running through the piece like the ^ s lc a lly trained pianist that he is. Williams loved that. “What he learned in that short time,” the jazzman said later, “was to trust not only what he had to say; he trusted what others were saying. You don’t have to fill up space just to fill up space.” Great preachers of the last century had excellent content, scholarly and imaginative . Story and narrative were replacing theological lecture style. However, there was also a nuance to what they said that involved pregnant pauses. In fact two master preachers were talking to each other about a recent preaching mission one of them had. Bryant Kirlkand, the returning preacher, light-heartedly characterized his effort, “I was practicing my pauses.” He might have used the jazzman’s words “allow space and air in the words.” It is the pause that allows what has been said to sink in. It creates anticipation for what will come next. It allows the listener to catch up, perhaps to take meaning down unexpected paths. It is a pregnant pause that prevents overpowering the listener and makes preaching a collaborative experience rather than a “tour de force.” In such a pause there is even a note of suspense before words begin again. A suggestion of this is in the Book of Revelation where “there was a silence in heaven for about half an hour” (Rev. 8:1). The reader wonders, ‘”What next?” Seven angels who had seven trumpets made ready to blow them. “Are you ready for what is to come?” Or, if an apocalyptic setting is “too, too,” think of the conductor who strikes the baton and holds it in air before bringing it down for foe music to begin. ?ractical illustrators of the pause are often comedians, ?ublic radio has been airing lives of Jack ?aar, Johnny Carson, and Jack Benny. Note foe number of times they say something and wait, look off into space, often with a deadpan expression while foe humor sinks in. What mileage they get out of foe pregnant pause. Buster Williams might say, “You don’t have to fill up space just to fill up space.” Strangely, rather than a pause lengthening a sermon, it is one of foe ways good preachers can be brief about it.

    Journalfor Preachers

  • The last segregated hour: the Memphis kneel-ins and the campaign for Southern church desegregation

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    One New Bookfor the Preacher

    Stephen R. Montgomery

    Idlewild Presbyterian Church, Memphis, Tennessee

    Stephen R. Haynes, The Last Segregated Hour: The Memphis Kneel-ins and the Campaign for Southern Church Desegregation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).

    Virtually all ofus are familiar with many ofthe different strategies that werc used during foe Civil Rights movement to awaken foe eonseienee of a nation and bring our eountry a step closer to the “beloved community” that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. so eloquently envisioned: the sit-ins, foe demonstrations, foe boycotts, foe “Preedom Riders,” and more. We are also aware ofthe attempts to counter these efforts through fire hoses, bombings, death threats, imprisonments, and foe ever present attempts to associate leaders ofthe movement with communism. One begins to wonder if there is anything else that can be added to our understanding of that era and even shed light on our continuing work to “let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” In his book. The Last Segregated Hour, Stephen R. Haynes helps shed light on one strategy that has received surprisingly little scholarly study. As a professor at Rhodes College in Memphis, he began hearing about “kneel-ins” and the attempts to integrate foe last bastion of segregation, foe churches. The paucity o^istorical comment about these actions was ^rticularly surprising, given the centrality of churchbased protest in foe theory and practice of nonviolent direct action during that time. In Taylor Branch’s exhaustive, nearly 3,000-page, study ofAmerica during foe “King years,” there is but one single reference to foe “kneel-ins.” Haynes fills in an important gap in understanding foe way kneel-ins could traumatize individuals and institutions, but he also takes a longitudinal perspective that examines the effect kneel-ins had on people and institutions in the 1960s and foe ways those same people and institutions have changed and at times have sought to repent of their former ways. After an overview of kneel-ins in various cities throughout the south (Albany, Atlanta, Savannah, Birmingham, andJackson are butafew), Professor Haynes focuses on specific events in Memphis, Tennessee, and foe religious roots of those events. The kneel-ins in Memphis were typical in some ways but unique in others, including their duration (fourteen Sundays over a ten-month period) and foe prominent role played by students (white students from Southwestern College, now Rhodes College, and African-American students from Memphis State and LeMoyne College, which is now LeMoyne-Owen College), but also the low profile played by foe church’s pastors during the crisis and the church schism that resulted. In foe early months of 1964, these students launched a campaign of church testings , pairing up students of different races to visit both black and white churches. The greatest resistance was found at Second ?rcsbyterian Church, which was well known as foe bastion of Presbyterian ecclesiastic conservatism. The church eventually withdrew from the Presbyterian Church (US) over this issue as well others. The students met a wide variety of responses as they visited the white churches,


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    but it was at Second that they were greeted week in and week out by deacons and elders standing arm-in-arm to bloek entrance to the ehurch. The students, always neatly dressed in their “Sunday best,” would kneel, pray, and then find a church where they could worship together. There was never any overt violence, and the movement was slow in getting attention, due largely to the absence of any local press coverage. When a few reports were finally printed, often buried in the back pages, the national press, particularly the denominational magazines, began to take note. The leaders of Second ?resbyterian maintained throughout that the issue was not integration, as some nostalgically looked back on the days when there was a special section of the balcony reserved for “the dignified old darkies in their high hats” who had driven their employers to church (p. 59). As pressure mounted with no end in sight, pictures of the protesters began to appear in the mailboxes of the parents of Southwestern students. A mother ٠۴ one of the white students received a letter accompanied by a photo of her son standing in the rain alongside an unidentified young black woman. The response probably was not what the author/photographer expected. She wrote,

    1 am glad that you sent me the picture of Hayden and his friend attending a chmch service. This picture will very definitely be one of the most cherished ones in the album. And, 1 expect he will show it to his children, as they come along, with a degree of justifiable pride. Certainly his father and I are proud of him. Not every young man is so courageously loyal to Christ that he is willing to undergo ridicule, abuse, and insults because of his Christian convictions, (p. 62)

    The events had repercussions throughout the denomination. The national leaders of the PC(US) attempted to persuade the session of Second Church to change their policy to no avail, so the Moderator, Felix Gear, took the unprecedented act ofmoving the 1965 General Assembly meeting from Second Church to the denomination^ conference center in Montreat, North Carolina. Particularly ironic is the fact that Dr. Gear was a former pastor of Second! What makes this book so readable is the extensive research Haynes shared not only with written documents and press accounts, but the many personal interviews with a wide variety of people who were involved in one ٧١ ^٢١or another with the kneel-ins: the students themselves, church leaders who barred the doors, members of Second who were either unaware of the protests or were against the official stand of the church, students at Southwestern who were not involved, and others. He not only sheds light on their thoughts then, but how they viewed their actions now. Haynes could have stopped there, but he goes on to describe the lingering effects of the kneel-ins within the church in Memphis. Several years later, under the continued leadership of Jeb Russell, the pastor of Second, the congregation finally voted to limit the terms of active elders, thus enabling fresh voices to be heard so that the church eventually opened the doors in 1966 to all who came to worship. This led to a schism in the congregation, and those who still clung to the old policies broke off and started a new Presbyterian church, which is now part of the Presbyterian Church in America. He also documents efforts of the current leadership to repent of their past, getting to the point more recently of inviting African-Americans who had not

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    been able to wo!־ship forty years ago to a serv؛ce of reconciliation, He found litile interest on toe part of those who had been discriminated against to be a part of such a service, including one who stated that she still feels ill when she drives past toe church. Several final observations are in order. First, in this day of church schisms over issues of “biblical authority” “ ٢٠toe centrality ofJesus Christ,” there was virtually no biblical or toeological justification that church leaders used to support their positions. Appeals were simply made to “keeping toe peace,” “maintaining our way oflife,” ٢٠ “preserving toe historical independence of the church.” Many stated that toe issue wasn’t race, but rather opening toe doors to toe church for all who werc “genuinely interested in worshiping,” and not “agitating.” When one says, “It’s not about race,” we can be pretty sure it’s about race. Second, I have a whole new set of spiritual heroes to be thankful for, many of whom are good friends that I had no idea werc so courageous during the kneel-ins. (I spent as much time in toe footnotes as I did on toe body of toe text!) They were not met with fire hoses and dogs; they werc not imprisoned (though that was a possibility ). They did, however, take significant risks on behalf of justice, sometimes without their parents’ support, when they very easily could have retreated into their studies at a prestigious college. Finally,whercas Second Church is to be commendedforrecentattempts to become more involved in toe racial and economic needs of toe city (most recently named toe poorest city in the nation), one cannot help but notice that toe same theology and world-view that led church leaders to bar African-Americans from worship exists today. Second does not have women in positions of pastoral ٢٠sessional leadership. One cannot be a gay person in a relationship and be a member of toe church. The issues are different, but on a deeper level, they arc toe same. It would be easy to read this excellent book with a certain condescension, shocked at how “decent church-going people” could have possibly barred anyone from worshipping toe God who loved toe world so much that toe Son was sent to save, not to condemn. But, as Robert Penn Warren once said, “The past is always a rebuke to toe present.” How do we apply toe lessons of history to toe present? How might our generation be viewed fifty years from now? Anyone interested in these questions and concerned about living out toe Gospel wito courage and conviction ought to read this book.

  • Invasion of the dead: preaching resurrection

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    One New Bookfor the Preacher

    Jacob D. Myers

    Emory University, Atlanta, Georgia

    Brian K. Blount, Invasion of the Dead: Preaching Resurrection (Louisville: Westminster John Knox ?ress, 2014), 154 pages.

    The Easter season is upon us, and with it comes the promise of new life. As the flowers burst forth from their fledgling pods, it is easy for us to speak of resurrection . Resurrection, it seems, is all around us—swaddling us in the sun’s amber glow after a bleak winter, painting our varied landscapes with swaths of marigold, green, and vermilion, bearing witness against death. Though resurrection is central to the Christian narrative, and though this Easter, tike so many before, its melodious sounds will emerge from pulpits across the world, does resurrection sufficiently pervade our lives and preaching? Other than this day set aside as the holy day among holy days,do we preach resurrection? New Testament scholar Brian Blount dares to venture such penetrating ،questions in his ground-breaking text, Invasion ofthe Dead: Preaching Resurrection. Blount serves as the President and Professor of New Testament at Union Presbyterian Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. Those familiar with Blount’s earlier works on the Gospel of Mark and Revelation will note similar themes in this work. Emerging from his lectures given for the prestigious Lyman Beecher Lectures at Yale Divinity School, this book challenges contemporary Christian faith and practice at its most primitive level. His argument is that many Christians share the same existential reality as the rest of the American populous: we are the living dead. We go about our quotidian tasks as if death has had the last word, as if Good Friday is the best we Christ-followers can hope from this lift. With poetic and poignant force, Blount drives a stake into the heart of such a paltry view of life. We are Easter people, and as such, we are vivified to participate in the resurrection of Christ; inasmuch as Christ is risen and in him we are raised to the fullness oflife, a half-life will not suffice. We cannot and must not be zombies. Though he is now an academic administrator and continues to serve as a professor , Blount has never stopped being a pastor. As a pastor he is privy to the realities of contemporary ministry. Blount writes, “Anxiously, desperately, even incredulously, we contemplate and reconsider resurrection. It is as much our destination as it is our destiny. But the rigors of the journey to it di vert our attention and shift our focus until what troubles us here overwhelms what promises us there” (xi). As a result, Blount argues, many of us get stuck on Good Friday, never really making it to Easter Sunday in all its socio-political vigor. As if the turgid waters of pastoral ministry were not enough, our congregants and parishioners are confronted with a cultural tidal wave that is utterly obsessed with death. Death masquerades as revelation; suffering defines our ontological state. The goal of Invasion ofthe Dead is to challenge this logic, to reverse it: death does not define us. Resurrection is the “quintessential apocalyptic moment” (xvii), and Blount seamlessly weaves key New Testament texts with tropes from popular culture to substantiate this claim.


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    The bookis organized around readings from theBookofRevelation,Paul’sepistles, and the Gospel of Mark. Eaeh chapter ends with tangible adviee for preaching from these texts and includes one of Blount’s own sermons. They model his trademark biblieal seholarship, cultural acuity, and liberative pronouncements. The sermons alone are worth the price of the book. Throughout, Blount draws our attention to apocalyptic themes contained in each of these parts of Scripture in order to reorient our governing paradigm for interpreting the Christian life. Blount writes, “It is resurrection that puts the enemies down. Resurrection’s truth, resurrection’s promise, and resurrection’s historical reality must therefore be the primary proclamation of the apocalyptic preacher whom God deploys in God’s formidable wake” (2). In his chapter on the Book of Revelation, Blount teaches us all that we could ever want to know about zombies. What is more, he makes the compelling case that we Christians share in the same half-life, ،}uasi-existence as zombies when we feil to live into fee fullness of life inaugurated by Christ’s resurrection. Dead and alive are both relative terms—both in contemporary nuance and for John of Patmos. Blount calls us to preach to fee living dead much as John did, namely, to preach resurrection. Blount enumerates four levels of creaturely human existence following John’s apocalyptic vision: life, type A death, type B death, and living death. Life is the prize awaiting those who have borne witness to the resurrection of Christ, even to fee point ofbiological death (i.e. martyrdom). Type A death is death in a biological sense; it is the cessation of life in fee mundane sense of fee term. Type B death is another matter entirely; it is a permanent cessation of existence beyond biological death. Blount explains, “It is fee death that follows a guilty verdict at the final judgment” (20). The existence of the present age Blount labels living death—it is not quite death inasmuch as it mimics life, but it does not share in fee kind of life of which John writes. Blount explains that it is an “age typified by the characteristics of death” (21). If the Christian life is a battle against the powers of death, duress, and oppression , then resurrection is God’s ultimate weapon (41). Blount argues feroughout that resurrection is an invasion; it is a full-blown attack against the forces of death that presently hold fee battlefield. This argument has tremendous theological as well as homiletical implications: “Christ does not save because he died; Christ saves because, resuirected, he lives. And in living, he holds fee keys that unlock Death” (22). What this means for preachers is that we are summoned to employ and deploy God’s weapon against fee powers and principalities of this world; in short, we are called to preach resutrection. In God’s resurrection of Jesus, we are empowered “to fire resurrection into fee midst of living death” (31). Having walked us through John’s apocalypse and convinced us that we are in fact preaching to the living dead, his engagement wife Paul’s epistles and Mark’s Gospel follow the same theological and homiletical thrust, though with different exegetical apparatuses. Of the Apostie Paul, Blount writes, “There is present time and there is future time. There is this age and feere is God’s age. In this age, it is time for us to wake up to the realization that we are living dead. That, in a colloquial nutshell, is Paul’sapocalypticpoint” (49).Through no small measure of exegetical sophistication, Blount makes the case feat Paul’s apocalyptic imagination centers on God’s resurrection of Jesus. Blount argues feat even in texts like Galatians and 2 Corinthians, which are saturated wife the language of crucifixion, resurrection is still fee governing theological motif. He writes, “Everything literally and figuratively starts with

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    the resurrection [for P al]. Resurrection is the a^calyptic revelation that ﻣﺤاله first uncovers and then uses to transform the way the apostle understands everything in his world” (59). In our preaehing, Blount urges us to challenge the hubris that we are aetually alive (51). Life, for Paul, is nothing less than direct eschatological r^ationship with God. This requires us to see beyond death—even Jesus’ death—to catch a vision of the fullness of life awaiting those who embody resurrection amidst the powers of death. The present age—ours as well as Paul’s—is infected with death, to which God’s resurrection of Christ is the vaccine. Blount contends, “Our task is to preach about the siege mentality in a secular world that believes all evils have human causes and can therefore be rectified through human progress and reason” (66). But God calls us to more than merely describing this infected, occupied domain: “The apocalyptic preacher’s goal, then, is not only to preach an invasion, but also to trigger an invaSion ” (68). Chapter five draws on Blount’s earlier hermeneutical work on the Gospel ofMark as “a story of apocalyptic incursion, [in which] God’s future invades through Jesus’ present” (84). This chapter provides a Markan twist on a consistent theological and homiletical message that Blount has been preaching all along: in Jesus, God invades the land of the living dead with genuine life. Thus, preachers are called to participate in Mark’s apocalyptic vision by focusing not on Jesus’ death, but on his life (88). He argues convincingly that in Mark’s apocalyptic, invasive schema, Jesus crucifixion is tire result of the invasion rather than the invasion itself. He contends that Christ’s cross is but one component for Mark—albeit an important component—of the invasive ministry and should be interpreted in light of the ministry and not the other way around. What this means for preachers, Blount argues, is that we too must preach of God’s invasion. The metrics of our preaching ministries will thus be measured according to apocalyptic invasion leading to the empty tomb (97). This must be more than a spiritualized and futurized orientation, but a social and political focus on that future reality invading this present age (99). This Baster most of us will recite seven sacred words to one another: Christ is risen; Christ is risen indeed! Blount has convinced me that the power ofthat indeed cannot be a one day affair. The indeed of Christ’s literal and figurative resureection from the power of death gives us the freedom—nay, the mandate—to live lives worthy of the resurrection. Such lives have received the power to challenge the powers and principalities that seek to shroud this present age with a pall of death and misery. By raising Christ from the dead, God has charged us to participate in the power of Christ’s resurrection. We are empowered to live as agents of resurrection, bringing new life to those living lives not much better than death.

  • The long road home: and other short stories from the silences in the Gospel of Mark

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    One New Bookfor the Preacher

    William V. Arnold

    Myer Creek, Virginia

    James s. Lowry, The Long Road Home: ﻣﺤﺲOther Short Storiesfrom the Silences in the Gospel ofMark (Eugene, Oregon: Caseade Books, 2013), 104 pages.

    Storytelling has many genres: cautionary tales, moral tales, dilemma tales. The list could go on and .٥٠What good stories share in common is their ability to pull the listener ( ,٢٠in this case, the reader) “across the threshold” into a way ٠؛thinking, of perceiving, of looking at things from a different angle. Take the most common expression of “telling a story”-ajoke. The ultimate aim of a joke is to take the listener by surprise, to turn the tables, to intrigue and delight. So also is the case with many other types of stories. Now, 1 confess at the outset that part of my fascination with stories is their seductive invitation to look at things in a new light. And, 1 further confess that frequently, when looking at a very familiar selection of scripture, my mind wanders a bit, and 1 yearn for something to draw me back into the text from a different angle, to see something new, to engage it in another way. Jim Lowry does just that for us in The Long Road Home. ؛Je invites us to take a fresh look at selections from the Gospel of Mark, selections which invite us to move beyond sticking with first appearances and to speculate “ ٥٠the rest of the story.” Jim is eminently qualified to take us ٥٠this journey. He is well educated, an experienced pastor, an excellent preacher, and a lover of scripture. He also possesses a distinctive qualification for writing this book-he is a good old southern boy from South Carolina, and he is a fine storyteller! “Cricket” Lowry, as he is known by his friends, has been immersed in stories since childhood. He grew up ؛٥the midst of them. He has honed and sharpened a talent for listening well and telling well. Now, out ofthat wealth of background and experience, we are invited into a discipline known as “midrash”-an ancient practice engaged in by rabbis to “spin tales” as a method of digging more deeply into scripture. The aim is not so much to give a final explanation as it is to lure ٢٠seduce a devotee of scripture into more examination and exploration, thereby resulting in morc profound appreciation for the richness that is there. Out of admiration for that tradition, Lowry has dug in and immersed himself in what he calls the “silences” in the Gospel ofMark. He has been intrigued at the way the gospel writer leaves us hanging with many of the stories. For example, when Mark reports that Jesus was led out into tire wilderness and tempted by Satan for forty days, we aren’t told in that gospel what foe temptations were! And, since Mark predates Matthew and Luke, both of whom do describe those temptations, Mark’s first readers werc left, as Lowry puts it, “to squirm, wondering what foe temptations might have been (p. 2).” One implication (mine, not necessarily Lowry’s) of Mark’s lack of detail is foat Matthew and Luke couldn’t stand it! So they filled in more description in order to put themselves (and perhaps us) at ease. In like manner, to raise other questions, our author wonders how foe unclean spirits in Mark 4 and 5 knew who Jesus was. And, who was foe young man who

    Advent 2014


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    ran away naked because his linen eloth was grabbed in Mark 14. And, what became of him? Those are just a few examples of the silences that Jim Lowry invites us to wonder about in Mark’s gospel. And then, he proceeds to speculate, to spin a yam, about what might have hap^ned. “This book,” Lowry writes, “is based on the hypothesis that Mark deliberately left strategically placed silences so his readers would have to wonder what was in them. In the act of wondering, we just might discover ultimate trnth, especially if our wondering about what is left unsaid is based on what is said (p. xv).” He then takes up six silences in Mark that may leave us wondering, as they do him. He engages in midrash ofhis own by offering two possibleendings,or continuations,for eachofthose passages. He then goes on to offer two tales from his own life in South Carolina that are “in sync” with the story. There is the “cake lady” and Miss Mary Jane Creighton, each bringing indirect illumination to our love of the gospel. Are those tales “true,” or are they midrash on his experiences there? In true storytelling fashion, we are left to wonder about drat as well. In the final analysis, Jim Lowry tantalizes us with the possibilities that lie before us when approaching scripture. He is quick to say that he does not öfter this book as a commentary on Mark, at least not in the technical sense. Indeed, it is not a “typical” biblical commentary. But, Lowry knows his Bible ! He offers some commentary at the start of each passage, demonstrating that he has done his theological and exegetieal homework. But, to critique this book as if it were a traditional commentary would be to miss the point. This book is an invitation to enter into a spirit of intrigue, enjoy-

    not ask us to use his stories so much as he invites us to find our own, looking to both scripture and our own lives as resources for plumbing the richness of the Word. Jim Lowry’s book is a resource for both preaching and teaching, and for lively discussion as a study book for groups.

    Joumalfor Preachers

  • Reading Romans in Pompeii: Paul’s letter at ground level

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    Page 41

    One New Bookfor the Preacher

    Joshua Rice

    Mount Paran North Church of God, Marietta, Georgia

    Peter Oakes, Reading Romans in Pompeii: Pan¿[؟ Letter at Ground Level (Minneapolis : Fortress, 2013)

    ¥ ٧٠may be wondering what a book of critical scholarship on the archaeology of ancient Pompeii has to do with our preaching ministry during the season ofPentecost. It might be exciting had remnants of some early Christian presence been suddenly discovered in the ruins, but this is not the case. And indeed, the first half of Peter Oakes’s book is about as technical as they come, full of guild-specific vocabulary and seemingly endless lists of the precise weights and measurements of the hundreds of tools, furniture, and other household items painstakingly catalogued by the excavators of the town. There are some pictures, yes, but even these are drab. ¥et for those preachers willing and able to endure the statistical analyses, Oakes has provided much low-hanging fruit for our taking. The book is, in the end, a surprise exercise in historical imagination. It strikes me that this is exactly what we preachers do each Pentecost There are two unexpected turns that comprise the action of this book. After a thorough survey of various houses in Pompeii, Oakes compares them with socioeconomic models to correlate the square footage of a family’s living space with their social status in the city. In this first turn, Oakes estimates for example, that the 78% of the city’s population who lived near and below the subsistence level resided in rooms sized less than 199 square feet. In contrast, the 2.5% that comprised the regional and municipal elites are naturally paired with the larger homes of Pompeii typically totaling above 1,000 square feet. The result is a vivid picture of the ancient family, business, and city. However, it is the second turn of the book that bears the payoff for the preacher. Based on data from New Testament scholarship on the size and ‘ breakdown of house churches, Oakes emerges a “model house church” from the ruins of Pompeii and then recalculates some of his formulas to extrapolate that congregation to a much larger scale, the ancient city of Rome. My pulse quickened as I was introduced to this ancient congregation of my believing ancestors. They meet in the home/workshop of the craftworker, Holconius, who serves as the group’s patron, 30 members cram m ing into 300 square feet. The space is “spartan; dark if the doors were closed, open to the street if they were open; in a very noisy environment; heavily encumbered with materials, tools and work in progress; lacking in cooking facilities and latrine.”1 There are a few other householders present, but the great majority of the group consists of slaves, freedmen, migrant workers, and the homeless. We meet some of these members in Oakes’s vivid reconstruction. There is Primus, the gentile slave. There is Sabina, a freed slave, scrapping for survival in the wake of being released by the master who had formerly provided for at least her basic physical needs. There is Iris, the bar maid, rented out for sex. And there is Holconius, the householder, a cabinet-maker thrust into a sense of responsibility for whatever this ekklësia was and whatever it was to become.

    Pentecost 2014


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    What ensues is a reading صRomans that thoroughly divests the letter’s themes from the shadow of Martin Luther’s individualistic interpretation, returning the letter to its home: the local house-church. We experience the great themes of Romans through the lives of its true addressees. The promise of divine justice is no longer relegated to theories of atonement, but is now cast in the light of ?rimus’s hope that one day his oppressors will be punished. The promise of eternal life, “astonishingly underplayed by scholars,” is proof for members like Sabina that “the gospel validates their suffering and encourages them in their day-by-day endurance.”2 Iris is promised that her abused body can be a “living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God” (Rom 12:1). And Holconius grapples with the staggering reality and responsibility that all these, even these, are the “many brothers and sisters” of Jesus, the firstborn (Rom 8:29).

    If someone such as Holconius had been asked to picture a group of people answering to the description that ?aul gives in Romans, the picture would not look like that group in the workshop, including his own slaves and children, the pair of stoneworkers who were scrabbling for subsistence, and the rather dubious serving girl from the bar down the street. Surely the Spirit-filled children of God ought to be a carefully selected group living a contemplative life in a temple on an island somewhere? ?aul said that the Christians were indeed carefully chosen- but they turned out to be this lot!2

    The book leads us not just into the raw data, but into the/ﺀﺀ/،<أو of shock as this ragamuffin group of the redeemed stare at one another, their mouths open, at the first hearing of Romans 8:16. In that context, “We are all God’s sons and daughters” didn’t sound sentimental. It sounded like a bomb exploding. And so perhaps the gift of this book in the here and now is to offer us preachers a corrective to the high-mindedness ٠۴ ?entecost. After all, it is easy to get caught up in the fireworks: the tongue-talking, the fire-splitting, the fiery sermon by one who had been friends with the resurrected Jesus that launched the (capital C) Church into existence and on toward global influence. It is easy to speak of Acts 2 as the birthday ٠۴ a new religious institution that has led to the very pulpit and pews before us. The on-the-ground reality ٠۴ the Day of Pentecost was all that it meant for (little c) house-churehes: small groups of Christians crammed into dark rooms, discovering what it meant to un-remember everything that the wider culture said had value and to dismember every dividing wall between them. “Even on my slaves, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit.”

    Notes 1 Oakes, 94-95. 2Ibid., 140-141. 3 Ibid., 165

    Journalfor Preachers

  • Protagonist corner [38 no 1 2014]

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    Page 38

    Protagonist Corner

    Robert E. Dunham

    University ?resbyterian Church, Chapel Hill, North Carolina

    The 2013 Pastoral fretter project among North Carolina Presbyterians had its genesis during a summer lunch conversation among clergy friends, though none of us envisioned such an undertaking at the time. Ron Shive, who serves the First Presbyterian Church of Burlington, Chris Tuttle, of Westminster Presbyterian Church in Durham, and 1 were having the kind of conversation pastoral colleagues often have in such seasons-family vacations, funerals and weddings, church programs-when our discussion turned to the front-page news of the day. The papers in June 2013 were full of reports of the actions of our state’s General Assembly in the areas of voting rights, public education, and programs benefiting the poorer citizens of the state. They were also paying attention to the growing public protests of the Assembly’s actions, the “Moral Mondays” evolving under the leadership of William Barber, a Goldsboro pastor and president of the North Carolina State Conference of the NAACP. We had all witnessed the swell of public animus on all sides of file issues before the Assembly. Gur threesome was sympathetic with fee concerns raised by fee Moral Monday protests. Two of us had attended one ٢٠more of fee Monday gatherings. We were troubled about fee effects of some of fee legislation already passed and some still in proposal stage. At the same time, we wondered aloud if there might be a way to engage the state’s legislators in conversation beyond the confrontation of the Monday protests. Toward that end, we resolved to meet again in mid-summer and to invite some of our pastor friends to join fee conversation. We scheduled a second meeting several weeks later in Durham and were joined by a dozen pastors from around fee state. We invited their perspectives regarding the legislative agenda, and we asked about fee prospects of engaging fee legislators. We learned that an ecumenical group of Charlotte pastors had already initiated such a conversation wife members of the General Assembly, but that they had called off fee conversations when fee talks ended in verbal stalemate Given the likelihood that further attempts at engagementwould be met with similar results, fee gathered group rallied around fee idea of a pastoral letter, one that would give expression to fee concerns all of us shared and gamer as many pastors’ signatures as possible.In the weeks following and in advanceofasubsequentmeeting,Icirculated a draft of a rather robust letter of protest. That draft, designed for release around fee fiftieth anniversary of fee March on Washington in August, spoke of a long-standing commitment to fee common good and said that fee actions of the General Assembly had undercut such coinmitments, likely leading to “further significant disadvantages for vulnerable constituencies that already contend wife poverty and discrimination.” The draft noted that people of faith could disagree about particular legislation, then added:

    But surely we can all acknowledge feat fee Hebrew Scriptures and fee Christian Gospels compel us to work for justice for those who live under fee crippling weight of poverty. Surely we can affirm God’s compelling


    Page 39

    vision ofajust and fair society as expressed by the Hebrew prophets. Surely we all can grasp the power and intent of the prophet Isaiah’s words, “Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and rob my oppressed people of justice” (Isaiah 10:1-2, N1V). Surely we can all agree with Jesus’ compelling call to his disciples to extend care and compassion to the least and the lost. As ?resbyterians, surely we can echo the affirmation of The Confession /٠ 1967 that, “the members of the church are emissaries of peace and seek the good of all in cooperation with powers and authorities in politics, culture, and economics. But they have to fight against pretensions and injustices when these same powers endanger human welfare (9:25).”

    When we gathered again in Durham to discuss the draft, some expressed concerns about the letter’s tone, given that we were in agreement that we wanted as many signatures as possible. We began to consider writing a pastoral letter to our own congregations rather than a letter of protest to the state’s leaders. We commissioned a writing group to re-write the letter, and we asked another group to develop a curriculum that would help congregations engage the issues the letter would raise. We completed the final draft ofthe letter duringaspirited and thoughtful conversation in Burlington a few weeks later. The tone ofthe final letter was more irenic and invitational. We still stressed the common good and our concerns about legislative actions, but the paragraph cited above morphed into the following:

    Grounded in our unity in Christ, we believe we have an opportunity to model a more excellent way forward amidst our social and political diversity , engaging with one another in mutual forbearance. Acknowledging that the Hebrew Scriptures and the Christian gospels compel us to work for justice for those who live under the crippling weight of poverty, we invite you to explore how God’s compelling vision ofajust and fair society might become more manifest today. As Presbyterians, how might we follow Jesus’ call to his disciples to extend care and compassion to the least and the lost? How might we, today, affirm the Confession of 1967 when it says, “The members of the church are emissaries of peace and seek the good of all in cooperation with powers and authorities in politics, culture, and economics (9:2.5)?”

    In the end, 150 Presbyterian pastors, educators, and church leaders from all parts ofthe state chose to sign and distribute the letter. In so doing, they invited their congregations into an important conversation and study about faith and political realities. We do not know how many congregations actually used the letter ٢٠the excellent curriculum that Pen Peery and Suzanne Watts Henderson developed, but anecdotal conversations lead us to believe that a good number of church communities engaged these issues in some very constructive ways. Protest might have been more emotionally satisfying, but we are hopeful, indeed confident, that those conversations will continue to bear fruit.


    Page 40

    ﺳﺲ־،؛سﺀ ,Protagonist Comer

    Pendleton B. Feery First Presbyterian Church, Charlotte, North Carolina

    1 was invited into the group that wrote the Pastoral Letter in the summer of 2013 through my wrestling with the headlines in the newspaper, my conversations with parishioners, and the encouragement of my colleagues in ministry, Bob Dunham and Chris Tuttle. 1 came to the project somewhat reluctantly. To be sure, 1 had concerns with the laws being passed in our state’s General Assembly. The pace and scope of the policy changes troubled me, but what was more concerning was the fact that the people in North Carolina who would be most affected by these changes were the ones who were already toe most vulnerable. $ﺎﺼﺳ1ه to Durham, I was hesitant because in toe wake of the issues at hand, 1 watched^nce again-the predictable battle lines being painted in red and blue. What good comes when the church falls in place behind already defined and partisan boundaries? As a pastor, preacher, and leader in toe Church ofJesus Christ, how can my voice that (hopefully) proclaims toe gospel penetrate toe fortress of carefully crafted sound bites and talking points? As someone who takes delight in serving a congregation that is distinctive in toe theological and political breadth ofits membership , how can I continue to model what it means to be faithful in my convictions as well as humble enough to know that 1 come to those convictions in part because 1 am steeped in, and formed by, toe same hyper-partisan culture that 1 disdain? Conflicted, Ijoined with my sisters and brothers in ministry while we prayed, listened , encouraged, and challenged one another. We agreed to meet again. As 1 drove back to Charlotte, 1 prayed a prayer of thanksgiving; this kind of dynamic interaction reveals toe value of a ministry that is connectional. These kinds of conversations are where toe Holy Spirit takes toe sometimes mundane and overly institutional practice of ministry and transforms it into something holy and actionable and real. When we gathered again, toe group had greater clarity. The way we needed to lead was to help change toe narrative, to elevate toe discourse. To that end some of the group drafted toe letter that Bob describes above. Another group of us set out to model what this “most excellent way” might look like through a curriculum that spoke toe gospel into the lives of those in our congregations who found themselves confronted with toe always ambiguous reality of life and faith in a political landscape . Working with colleagues, we decided that the most effective medium for study would be a four-part video series that would provoke discussion and that could be easily viewed in a variety of settings. I approached toe Reverend Dr. Snzanne Watts Henderson, a New Testament Frofessor at Queens University in Charlotte, North Carolina, to author toe video series after reading a review of her new book, Christ and Community: The Gospel Witness to Jesus. A Markan scholar, Dr. Henderson’s primary interest was in considering toe ethical implications for the reign of God that Jesus proclaimed in toe midst of toe political realities of Falestine. We worked to produce toe four-part video curriculum in time for Lent, and we released toe series on Vimeo, a website that is accessible to any and all who are interested . Bob Dunham contacted toe 15() leaders who had signed toe Fastoral Letter


    Page 41

    to encourage them to use the video eurriculum, which included a study guide written by Dr. Henderson, that was broken into the following four, twenty-minute sections:

    Session One: What is foe Kingdom ٠؛God? Session Two: What is foe Good News? Session Three: What is Messianic ?ower Sharing? Session Four: What is the Fassion of Christ? (http^/^eo.eo^h^^ls/jesusehristine)

    While we have no way of knowing exactly how many churches engaged this study, foe videos have been played over 300 times by unique users. In my own congregation , we partnered with a neighboring, historically African American congregation to watch foe videos and engage in conversation. First United Fresbyterian Church and First Presbyterian Church met for four weeks in foe spring taking turns hosting a luncheon after worship on Sunday morning. My experience of these conversations was that they were lively and well received. Some of those who participated finished foe study and wanted to move to advocacy around issues of funding for public education and voter access. Others simply relished foe chance to sit and talk wifo follow members and Fresbyterians about how scripture and their faith came to bear on foe lives they led outside foe church walls. What changed foe narrative for those of us who gathered in uptown Charlotte were two things: (1) that we gathered together for a meal and (2) that the conversation started wifo scripture and then moved to foe vexing issues of the day. I am not sure if the opinions of those in the room shifted, but I do know that people thought more deeply about what it means for us to be called into partnership wifo foe living Christ in the unfolding reign ٤٠God. And I know that people in my pews appreciated that their ehurch had provided them wifo a space-and a different way-to explore the issues facing our state and its citizens. For foe 75 people who participated in our study and foe 300 other individuals or communities who joined us through their viewing ٤٠foe curriculum, I am ٤٠foe conviction that their experience and participation in this kind ٤٠theological reflection was more transformative than an experience ٤٠reading their pastor’s work in an op-ed piece in a newspaper ٢٠a blog post. I hope fois kind ٤٠wider participation might sow more seeds ٤٠foe kingdom.

    A Pastoral Letter

    “Just as you did it to one ٤٠foe least ٤٠these, my brothers and sisters, you did it to me.” Matthew 25:40

    As teaching elders of foe Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), we are bound to foe life and teachings of Jesus Christ, foe witness ٤٠Scripture, and foe Confessions ٤٠ foe Church as foe foundations ٤٠our ministry. These root sources instill in us foe importance of compassion, fairness, and justice in foe church, our personal lives, and the public realm. An enduring principle ٢٧٠٤٠discipleship is the call to sacrifice for foe sake ٤٠others after foe manner ٤٠Christ and a commitment to foe common good


    Page 42

    bey^d our own personal interest. Within our Presbyterian and Reformed tradition, concern for foe common good has focused on providing quality public education, ensuring affordable health care, and promoting foe general welfare of foe people with particular attention to those whom Jesus called “foe least of these.” As church leaders in North Carolina, we are particularly o n ra e d th tre ce n t legislative actions may undercutthese commitments and lead to greater disadvantages for foe most vulnerable among us who already contend with poverty and diminished opportunity. Informed people of faith can disagree about particular legislative decrees. We know that we live in a time of division, when political and social issues threaten to split apart our communities, our nation, our state, and even our religious bodies. Grounded in our unity in Christ, we believe we have an opportunity to model a more excellent way forward amidst our social and political diversity, engaging wifo one another in mutual forbearance. Acknowledging that foe Hebrew Scriptures ؛md the Christian gospels compel us to work for justice for those who live under foe crippling weight of poverty, we invite you to explore how God’s compelling vision of a just and fair society might become more manifest today. As ?resbyterians, how might we follow Jesus’ call to his disciples to extend care and compassion to foe least and foe lost? How might we, today, affirm foe Confession of 1967 when it says, “The members of foe church are emissaries of peace and seek foe good of all in cooperation wifo powers and authorities in politics, culture, and economics (9:25)?” We invite Presbyterians across North Carolina to join us as we pray for foe poor, foe overlooked, and foe marginalized in our state. We invite our congregations to join us in study, prayer, and discussion around these matters. In a spirit of humility and boldness befitting Christ’s followers, let us renew our calling as advocates for the greater public good.

    Joumalfor Preachers

  • Recovering the divine narrative: Advent, eschatology, and the preacher

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    Page 10

    Recovering the divine Narrative:

    Advent, Eschatology, and the Preacher

    Frederick w. Schmidt

    G ^tt-Evangeiical Theological Seminary, Evanston, Illinois

    Dividing my life’s work between the chnrch and the academy has given me an interesting vantage point from which to consider some of the challenges facing clergy. Some of those challenges arise ont of the demands associated with parish life, some from the way clergy are prepared, and some of those challenges can be seen in the lives of college and seminary students themselves, even as they prepare to serve toe church. My first fulltime teaching position was in New Testament studies at a small liberal arts college, and in January, 1 often taught a four-week intensive devoted to toe Book of Revelation. Eschatology was at toe center of much of what we discussed. Midway through toe course one year, 1 made a passing observation that prompted one of my students to raise his hand suddenly. 1 realized that we were going to have a far longer conversation than toe time remaining before our break, so 1 suggested we all get a cup of coffee and come back to discuss toe student’s question. When we settled back in, I turned to Brian and said, “Brian, I gather that you take exception to toe last observation that 1 made,” and Brian responded, “No, I take exception to pretty much everything you’ve said up to this point.” Looking back on it, the class reflected many of the same complex challenges that clergy themselves face when preaching during Advent. If there is a single issue at the heart of toe season, it is eschatology. There are few themes that provoke more consternation, confusion, or flat fear, and toe task of preaching through toe Advent texts takes us into toe heart of our own formation on the subject, as wefl as toe haphazard formation of those who sit in our churches’ pews. Judging from my experience with toe subject of eschatology in both the church and toe academy, I would guess that there is toe same kind of bewildering diversity to toe average congregation’s views on the subject that I have detected in my classes over the years. Boto in toe academy and in toe pulpit, it’s worth bearing in mind that there are at least toree groups of people who are potentially a part of your congregation .

    Eschatology and the Congregation

    SBNRs, Nones, ﻣﺤﺲOthers One group may have no frame of reference at all for a conversation abouteschatology during the Advent season. This first group includes toe so-called “unchurched,’^ “toe spiritual but not religious,”“ ؛toe nones,”3 and “toe seekers,”* but it also includes a number of people who have lived on toe margins of our denominations. The labels used to characterize these groups have evolved quickly, and while those labels are meant to identify a demographic trend, there is no clear delineation between them ٢٠an agreed set of definitions at work. This is partly because toe research has been evolving rapidly, but toe amorphous nature of toe labels can also be traced to toe


    Page 11

    almost prog!־ammat؛c nature of foe way some writers are using tire language. Some scholars are not just at work describing a trend; they are also prescribing a future for tire church, and that goal not only shapes the labels used but conditions the research they do as well.؛ Anticipating what this larger, ill-defined group will understand what is said from fire pulpit is further complicated by fire fact that its separation from fire church may not be as absolute as some people thought initially. One team of researchers suggests , for example, that a higher percentage of SBNRs are foe children of divorced couples, whose religious formation was disrupted by their parents’ separation.6 Others have proffered foe theory that children of parents with lower levels of education ٢٠extremely high levels of education are less likely to receive any faith formation at all. Still others have concluded that “nones” have not rejected religion as such, but certain features of religion, including membership, ecclesiastical bureaucracies, and financial involvement.7 Bofo studies, then, suggest that “nones” and “SBNRs” may know more theology than we might expect. That said, preachers should probably assume that for this first group of people, the sole frame of reference that they may have for the church’s eschatology are foe endless secular apocalypses that abound in our culture. Those stories reveal something about our common fears and hopes. They also tell us something about foe way narrative and “ending” powerfully shape our lives, and bofo points of contact can provide a usefirl way into a conversation with people who know little ٢٠nothing about foe Christian faith. But a conversation about eschatology that takes shape in response to foe logic of the Gospel will re؟uire a good deal of explanation.

    Dispensationalists On the other end of the spectrum will be a second group of people who have been solidly influenced by dispensationalist readings ofScripture. In some ways this group of parishioners will pose a bigger challenge for preachers and pastors than people who know little ٢٠nothing about the subject. They will be specific about foe lenses through which they read the Advent lections. They will be certain that they have read those texts in foe only truly orthodox fashion possible, and they will instantly resist any alternative intei^retation. The dispensationalist approach to eschatology originated in nineteenth century England with foe work of John Nelson Darby, who divided foe whole of biblical and human history into two dispensations ٢٠eras: foe dispensation of foe law and foe dispensation of grace. flt€ cross was foe dividing line between foe two eras according to Darby, and his picture of history provided a basic schema for reading Scripture, for assigning foe exegetical primacy of specific texts, and for anticipating foe eschatological future.8 Three things have kept dispensationalist theology alive, even if foe numbers of devoted followers ebbed and flowed for foe better part of two hundred years. The earliest was The كﺀﻢﻣﺀ/ﺢﻣ Reference Bible. In 1909, C.I. Scofield paired notes on dispensationalist readings of Scripture with foe text itself, offering a lens through which biblical eschatology could be read and understood. Given foe daunting nature of eschatological language, Scofield’s notes are foe only interpretation of biblical foeology that many have read. Unsurprisingly, more than one preacher has had to remind people over foe years that foe notes themselves are not inspired. They were


    Page 12

    entirely Sc©field’s work. What is surprising is how durable Scofield’s treatment has been. His Bible continues to be printed by Oxford University Press and widely used over a century later.9 As influential as the Scofield Bible has been, however, it is hard to believe that dispensationalism would enjoy foe influenee it has today if it were not for Hal Lindsey and Tim LaHaye. Lindsey, a student at Dallas Theological Seminary during foe late fifties, was thoroughly immersed in dispensationalist theology. While some of his professors no doubt winced at foe use he made of his lecture notes, Lindsey successfully wed dispensationalism, his own unique approach to current events, and popular marketing in a ground breaking book called The Late Great Planet Earth. Declaring that the end was near, Lindsey capitalized in particular on foe possibility of nuclear war in suggesting that history, technology, and prophecy had finally and convincingly merged with one another, and foe book sold like proverbial “hot cakes.” Late Great wem through thirteen editions and, in spite of shifting political realities, sold over fifteen million copies.“ Beginninginl995,Tim LaHaye followed up witha“fictional”versionofLindsey’s “non-fictional” tour deforce. Cleverly arguing that his stories weren’t scriptural but that they could be, LaHaye abandoned foe effort to use eschatological texts in a more direct fashion and instead told foe story of those who are “left behind.”11 As badly written as they are,LaHaye’s efforts to catechize a new generation ٢٠readers has been even more successful than Lindsey’s. The LeftBehind series has sold over 60 million copies. Seven of foe novels have hit The New York Times bestseller list and foe Left Behind story has spawned a number of spin-offs including children’s books, graphic novels, television series, and first-run movies.“ The latest airing in theatres was foe movie Left Behind: The End Begins, starring Nicholas Cage fois last Dctober.“ ft is perilously easy for preachers to dismiss people who read foe Advent texts with LaHaye’s work in hand ٢٠to assume that no one in their churches has been exposed to LaHaye. Dispensationalists have been so effective at communicating their message that basic familiarity with dispensationalist understandings ofeschatology is more likely than not.14

    Members: “،؛ ٣ have met the enemy, and he is us.” A third group in most churches will be members of our congregations. They will know something about eschatology, but they probably won’t be familiar with foe term itself. In fact, what this group will be thinking about as foey hear the Advent lections read is a loose pastiche of half-formed ideas about heaven and hell, judgment and deliverance, scattered political interpretations of the Kingdom of God, and cultural critiques of Scripture that associate some or all of what foey have heard with an outmoded and ancient way of thinking. To make matters more complicated, even as they reject much of what they have been told about foe passages they are hearing, foey will nonetheless think that foe “orthodox” way to read those passages requires that outmoded way of thinking that they have already rejected. Treating eschatology seriously would require them, they think, to abandon ways of thinking that they see as scientific and intellectually virtuous. A church that thinks that Jesus was a good man and a social prophet whose influence is still alive in foe world but not a savior or divine hardly recognizes him as a figure who can speak convincingly about foe end ٢٠purpose of history.


    Page 13

    It is hard to underestimate how poorly formed in the faith the average ehurch member might he. Aeeording to a recent ?ew foundation report, “nearly six-in-ten U.S. adults say that religion is ‘very important‘ in their lives, and roughly four-inten say they attend worship services at least once a week,” but the same people are “uninformed about toe tenets, practices, history, and leading figures of major faith traditions-including their own.” The report went on to note that “more than fourin -ten Catholics in toe United States (45%) do not know that their church teaches that toe bread and wine used in Communion do not merely symbolize but actually become toe body and blood of Christ,” and “about half of ?rotestants (53%) cannot correctly identify Martin Luther as toe person whose writings and actions inspired toe ProtestantReformation,which made their religionaseparate branch of Christianity.”15 There was no specific information available in toe report about toe eschatological understandings of toe respondents and nothing specifically about Advent. But if such basic information about toe Christian faith is missing from toe experience of Catholics and Protestants, it hardly stretches toe point to assume that toe same kind of ignorance prevails in connection with cschatology. There are a number of explanations for this state of affairs. One is no doubt pragmatic. Pastors and priests of small churches complain that they lack toe time to spend educating people in toe Christian faith. Leaders of larger congregations with toe resources to do the work offen allow their educational efforts to degenerate into boutique programs, educating people in anything and everything other than toe church’s faith. Regardless, it is clear from toe Pew Study and other surveys that we have failed in our catechetical mission. To paraphrase Pogo, in some cases “we have met toe enemy and toe enemy is us.”

    Exploring Advent from the Inside Out

    Preaching in Advent, then, requires a sense of toe complexity of our congregations , but it also requires us as preachers to confront our own spiritual and intellectual formation. Do we really believe that Advent marks toe beginning of toe year in a way that is more consequential than any other beginning? What do we mean when we call this an eschatological moment or, more directly, what do we believe about eschatology? How does preparation for that eschatological moment, or waiting on Cod, require of us? How do we read the times in which we live against toe backdrop of the Messiah’s return? To answer those questions in an honest fashion is to begin defining toe task of preaching at Advent from toe inside out. It also helps to define toe themes that we can explore throughout the Advent season. ¥ou will have your own answers to those questions. By way of conversation, allow me to offer answers to them.

    In what sense does Advent mark the beginning ofa new year? Positively, Advent is an invitation to enter the drama of salvation history anew, preparing for a new world order. The anticipated coming of toe Messiah, and with him toe coming of the Kingdom of God, is a singular event that changes everything. Advent invites us to live into toe new year focused on toe things of Cod: God’s priorities, God’s way of looking at toe world, God’s way of being in toe world. It is this challenge that makes Advent the beginning of toe year for those who have been


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    baptized iate Christ. The obstacle we face in grasping that reality is not the so-called secular world around us. It is the depth of our own conviction that subverts us.* ؛ But the spell that the world exercises over us still needs to be broken, and breaking that spell is not easy. Sandwiched between Thanksgiving and Christmas, the Advent season has become an extended baby shower, satisfying the needs of people who, if they must, are certainly welcome to light candles while they wait for Christmas to arrive. It is a religious sideshow that occupies the attention of people who aren’t quite as busy as the rest of us. The preacher must break that spell, alerting the congregation to its spiritual peril before she can begin to explore the spiritual promise made by God in Advent. That, of course, is always the case with the anticipated “Day of the Lord.” *؛It is judgment to those who fail to appreciate its significance. It is the day of deliverance to those who grasp its promise and prepare for it. Gne way to accomplish that task is to do what the rest of the world wifi do a month later, but will do it a very different way: take stock, evaluate the year behind us, ask what our own schemes really accomplished, name the inadequacy of the salvation we craft for ourselves, and name the places where God has been present, the victories achieved as a result. An effective preacher will not review the year behind us as a tableau of triumphs and fears ٢٠as a series of celebrity moments. The romantic and semimental approach that we take to the year behind us is precisely why on January 2 we begin living our lives in the same way we lived them on December 31. In Advent, an effective preacher will in good Ignatian fashion ask the congregation, “What were the moments that drew us closer to God and others in love?” and “What were the moments that drove us away from God and others?” To begin enshrining that process of Examen in the lffe of a congregation is to begin building a Christian community with the kind of spiritual sensibilities that belong to an Advent people. Driving a wedge between sentimentalism and a preoccupation with what makes us “happy” ٢٠successful, such questions cultivate a commitment to discernment as a spiritual discipline and give the congregation a concrete way of making decisions in the year ahead.®؛

    What do we believe about eschatology? To make a sweeping, but I hope helpful generalization, most contemporary eschatologies fall into one of four categories: personal,19 spiritual,20 socio-political, ؛؛ or cosmic.“ Each has some exegetical claims in its favor, which we won’t rehearse here. But none of them, held alone, adequately captures the scope of biblical and Christian eschatology. Nor, for the same reason, can any of the four usefully serve as its center. ft is small wonder, then, that so many conversations about eschatology finally feel smaller and less focused than one might expect from a topic that has been so central to Christian theology, ?ersonal eschatologies appear to leave our world untouched and seem to provide an excuse for treating social issues with casual disregard. Spiritual eschatologies are criticized as quietist in character, ?olitical eschatologies degenerate into human visions of how we might change the world since God is so slow about it. And cosmic eschatologies invite people to “get right with God” and muse about those who might be “left behind.” It is no surprise that people who gravitate to one ٢٠the other view excoriate those who hold a different eschatology. It is no surprise


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    that many caricatme the whole conversation about eschatology as speculation about “pie in the sky by and by;” and no surprise that the subject itself seems somehow quaint and irrelevant.** The difficulty with all four eschatologies, and the problem with the conversation itself, is that the focus is squarely on the nature of eschatological transformation and not on foe place of that transformation in salvation history. , ٢٠to put it another way, far too much conversation about eschatology is about our place in that transformation: our salvation, our redemption, our lives, our world, and our social order. The problem wifo that obsession is this: eschatology in the biblical and Christian tradition is not about us. It is about God. ٢٠to put it another way, eschatological hope is about foe promise that in foe end, God will make good on foe claim to be God. It is fois that needs to be communicated from foe pulpit in clear, direct language. Eschatology is not about redeeming your life ٢٠mine. It is not about transforming foe social ٢٠spiritual order, and it is not about saving foe planet. All of that and more wifi happen. But it wifi happen, because in the end, God wifi make good on God’s claim to be God by conquering death and by returning us and foe world to a condition that meets and exceeds the conditions that held sway in foe beginning. ٢٧٠well being, then, and our story are caught up in a larger narrative that is theocentric, not anthropocentric.24

    What does waiting in that eschatological place require ofus? By trivializing eschatology, foe Left Behind tableau has robbed us of the specifically eschatological waiting that is characteristic of the Advent texts and can be found in our eucharistie prayers. We are understandably put off by foe fearful quest to avoid being left behind and foe self-righteous picture of those who want to know “Who is going to hell?” Waiting and watching as it is found in Mark 13 and other Advent texts in any year is not about such vain and silly preoccupations. It is about availability. It is about the ability to walk wifo Christ. It is, to reprise what I have just said about eschatology, our willingness to cooperate with foe life-giving message that God wifi make good on God’s claim to be God. Waiting in Advent, then, necessarily requires confession, repentance, and amendment of life, not because God longs to make us feel badly about ourselves and not because God enjoys seeing us in pain, but because it is our own brokenness and sin that makes that availability impossible. That emphasis wifi take us headlong into opposition with our culture. One of foe real challenges of society marked by foe spiritual seeking I described above is that it is often marked by longing for a spiritual life emptied of the need to change and unwilling to acknowledge something ٢٠someone larger than ourselves. More than once I have heard Christian clergy and others argue that we are our own best judges of what we need spiritually, rather than listening for what God wants to give us.* ؛Further, as Karl Menninger noted years ago, our culture has lost its ability to talk about sin.26 As a result we tend to forget that God is God and we are not. But if the central problem wifo foe human race is its inability to acknowledge that God is God, and if that claim lies at foe heart of a narrative that ends wifo God’s firm declaration, “I am,” then there is no internally consistent preaching of Advent that can do without waiting that results in confession, repentance, and amendment of life. These are not unrelated vestiges of an abusive spirituality that foe church


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    imposes on othe!־w؛se well-adjusted people outside its walls. It is the truth that we lea™ about ourselves when Scripture reads us.

    # ,٧١٠then, ، ؛٠we read the times in ،ﺀﻟﻤﺺ’أﻟﻢﺀwe live against the backdrop ﺀأمﺀ/م Messiah ’ ﺀ return? It is common to think that eschatological language is about sweeping away this world in ^ ٢٠٧of the next. But this approach misunderstands the way eschatology is used in the biblical text. In both the Old and New Testaments, eschatology is not just about the comprehensive healing and redemption that lies ahead. It is about what that remarkable ending says about the present. No matter how long the interlude may last between the first and the second coming of the Messiah, we live out our lives in God’s presence, and both the present and the filture belong to God. The durability ofthat truth does not lie in fulfilling even one of a hundred predictions nor, thankfully, does it depend upon our ability to restore the natural order or remake the social order. It is grounded in the t™th that is the claim of the one who was “in the beginning” and will be made manifest “in the end.”” © ٢٧times, then, are exactly like those of any generation: marked by the responsibility to “wait and watch,” retirin g patient and faithful dependence upon the one whose claim to be God has been guaranteed. We are not diminished by that fact. We do not need to be delivered from this world,nor do we need to abandon ouravailability for the work of God’s kingdom in favor of kingdoms of our own making. It is enough to know that we are the object of God’s love and the bearers of God’s Christ-restored image. In the final analysis, this is the challenge the preacher faces in Advent: the telling of a story, a metanarrative that transcends every other life narrative and becomes not just a reality, but is the reality that governs the life of the church and the year begun in Advent.“ That conviction should be brought home to every congregation, not as an abstraction ٢٠as sentimental hope, but as the wellspring of a life lived and poured out in the presence of God.

    Notes 1 R oberte.Fuller,Spiritual,butnotReligious: Understanding UnchurchedAmerica(New York: Oxford University ?ress, 2001). 2 Ibid. 3 The term, “N©nes,” was first coined by Barry Kosmin. See: Barry A. Kosmin and Ariela Keyser, Religion in a Free Market: Religion and Non-Religious Americans, Who, What, Why, Where (Ithaea: ?aramount Market ?ublishing, 2006), xii. But, as Kosmin notes, the term has taken on a life of its own: Wendy Thomas Russell, “An Interview with the Guy Who Named the ‘Nones,’” January 10, 2013: http://wendythom asrussell.com /nones/ . Cf., for example, the ?ew Religion and ?ublie Life Survey conducted 2012 ’“ :طNones’ on the Rise,” http://ww w.pew forum .org/2012/lQ /Q 9/noneson -the-rise/. 4 See Robert Wuthnow, After Heaven: spirituality in America since the 1950s (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), Iff. 5 Cf., for example, Diana Butler Bass, Christianity After Religion: The End ofChurch and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2013). 6 Jiexia Flisa Zhai, Christopher G. Ellison, and Charles E. Stokes, “’Spiritual, But Not Religious’: The Impact of Farental Divorce on the Religious and Spiritual Identities ofYoung Adults in the United States,” Review ofReligious Research 49.4 (2008): 379-394. 7^m ieM anson,“Fanel at F ordh^ focuses on the spiritual AND religious,”NationalCatholicReporter, (December 11,2013): http://ncronline.org/blogs/grace-margins/panel-fordham-focuses-spiritual־ and-religious, See also; Nan£yI aXQmAmmerman,$acredStQriestSpiritLLaLIrib.es;Fjnding.RelwiQn


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    iR.EY£udjayLifcX Ne.w.-YQrk…Qxford University.Press, 2.Q13..],-2fL.and.LamaJQarlmg,“Lis.tening to the !Nones’; An Interview with Elizabeth Drescher( ״May 2.3,,2Q13);.J1ttp://b luebQatblQgs,uuan org/2014/01/21/n ones-h urt־angry-or-bored/ 8 For more on Darby, see: Eugen Weber, Apocalypses: Prophecies, Cults, andMillenialBeliefs through the Ages (Cambridge: Harvard University Fress, 1999), 141-42,181-82. 9 Oxford University Press even publishes what they eall The Old Scofield Study Bible (New ¥ork: Oxford University Press, 2007). For one window into the influenee of the Scofield’s Bible, see: R. Todd Mangum and Mark s. Sweetnam, The Scofield Bible: Its History andlmpact on the Evangelical Church (Colorado Springs: Paternoster Publishing, 2009). 0ل Hal Lindsey, The Late Great Planet Earth (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1970). 11 Tim F. LaHa^e and Jerry B. Jenkins, The Left Behind Collection (Carol Stream: Tyndale House Publishers, 2003). 12 Most articles on the subject of LaHaye’s influenee and the theology ofhis books inevitably goes well beyond that subject to touch LaHaye’s political commitments, so there are few measured theological assessments available. See, for example: Melanie McAlister, “An Empire of Their Own,” The Nation (September 4 ,2003): http;//w m th enatiQ.n,.CQm./artid£/gmpire:their־Qwn?page=(LQ. Fora hands-on assessment of LaHaye’s franchise, see his own website: https://tim lahaye.com /. My own effort to analyze what 1 have also called “roadmap” readings of Scripture’s eschatological content as it is found in the Book of Revelation can be found here: Frederick w. Schmidt, Conversations with Scripture: Revelation, Anglican Association of Biblical Scholars Study Series (Harrisburg: Morehouse Publishing,2005), Iff. 13 http://www.Ieftbehindmovie.com/about/ 14 See: http://www.christianitytoday.com/gleanings/2013/september/syria-survey-end-timesarmageddon “lifeway.html?paging=off. Consider these statistics outlined there: “’41 percent of all U.S. adults, 54 percent of Protestants, and 77 percent of evangelicals believe the world is now living in the biblical end times.’…Nearly 4 in 10 Americans (and 65 percent of white evangelicals) believe recent natural disasters are evidence of the End Times, while 15 percent ofAmericans (and 29 percent of white evangelicals) believe that the end of the world, as predicted in the Book ofRevelation, will occur in their lifetimes…’Nearly 15 percent of people worldwide believe the world will end during their lifetime.”’ 15 http://www.pewforum.org/2QlQ/09/28/u-s-religiQus-knQwledge-survey/ 15 Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann once observed that fee challenge facing fee church is not secularization. What bedevils the church is its failure to believe in the reality of its own sacramental hfe. But that failure of nerve extends to morc than fee church’s lack of confidence in its sacraments. The same diffidence is apparent in fee church’s attitude toward its own creeds. See: Alexander Schmemann, The Eucharist: Sacrament ofthe Kingdom, trans., Paul Kachur (Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2003). 17 See: Walter Bruegemann, Theology ofthe Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy (Minneapolis : Fortress Press, 1997), 646ff. 18 For more on fee Examen or“examination of consciousness,” as well as fee concepts o f“consolation” (“What were fee moments that drew us closer to God and others in love?”) and “desolation” (“What werc fee moments that drove us away from God and others?”), see: John j. English, Spiritual Freedom: From an Experience ofthe Ignatian Exercises to the Art ofSpiritual Guidance, 2nd ed. (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1995), lllff. 19 There are countless rehearsals of “what happens to us when we die,” which focus on fee personal dimension of eschatology, many of them without ever using fee word. Some of those hail from beyond the walls of fee church (see, for example: Michael Tymn, The After Life Revealed: What Happens After W


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    future that sidesteps an une^Í¥0eal commitment to a socio-political eschatology, but the weight of his eschatology centers on what we can do. Notably, M^Laren’s eschatology is deeply shaped by his reaction to the dispensationalist eschatology of his youth. 22 This category includes dispensationalist eschatologies (see below), but it also includes countless secular apocalyptic narratives, many of them rehearsed in popular literature and in him. 23 Cf. my comments earlier this year: Frederiek w. Schmidt, “Frotagonist Corner,” Journalfor Preachers 37.4 (Fentecost, 2014): 47-48. 24 Augustine does not put it ،tuite this way, but he comes close. Recounting Augustine’s reaction to millinerian interpretations in his own day, Paula Fredriksen writes: “Augustine concludes his mediation on final redemption by wrenching all temporal reference away from that amalgm of the seven world-ages and the millennial reign of the saints. The six preceding world ages are indeed historical, he says; but the Great Sabbath, the eschatological seventh day, is the saints themselves who dwellin the heavenly Jerusalem, the eternal visiopacis. ‘Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they will praise you for ever and ever( ’؟Ps. 54:5). After the present age, ،God will rest, as it were, on the seventh day; and he will cause us, who ?،٢٠the seventh day, to find our rest in him’….” See: Paula Fredriksen, “Apocalypticism ,” Augustine through the Ages: An Encyclopedia, ed., Allan D. Fitzgerald (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1999), 52. 25 See: Elizabeth Lesser, The New American Spirituality (New York: Random House, 1998). 26 Karl Menninger, Whatever Became ofSin? 2nd ed. (Portland: Hawthorn Books, 1972). 27 This conclusion accords with the way in which I believe the message of John’s Apocalypse should be understood: “Will those of you who live in Asia Minor, knowing the deeper nature of reality, [movement one: 1:1-5:14] time and the future, [movement two:616:21 – ]ﻟﺖlive your lives in the City of Bablylon or toe City of God [movement toree: 17:1 – 22:21]?” Schmidt, Revelation, 45ff. 28 This challenge has been a subject of concern to me for some time now. I was heartened to find that there are others who share that concern. See N. T. Wright, Surprised by Scripture: Engaging Contemporary Issues (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2014). See also a fine review of Wright’s work by Robert Barron, “Reading N. T. Wright with toe Rock,” (July 31,2014): http://www.realclearreligion.org/ articles/2014/07/31/reading nt wright with the rock.html.

  • Beyond why

    This text was converted from the original print edition for full-text searchability. Formatting may differ from the original. Consult the PDF for citation and presentation details.

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    Beyond Why

    Job 23:1-24:1

    Lori Ar،’h(״r Raíble Selwyn Avenue Presbyterian Church, Charlotte, North Carolina

    Job is a leader. He has surrounded himself with good people. When your back is up against the wall, go to Job: a great guy to work for, honest partner, prosperous, humble, and a true friend. He developed a booming family business, had seven sons and three daughters, already set up 529 college funds for the grandkids, and probably gladly tithes ten percent on the Sabbath. Culture, community, God, and even Job himself agree he sits at a table full of blessings. His family eats and vacations together. Year after year they send out the beach photo with everyone wearing white and khaki. And because Job is, well. Job, we look forward to seeing it every time. Job has been living the dream. Except now, the dream has turned to nightmare. Job forces us to put away our preconceived notions of what it means to be a “good Christian.” The drama has no sugar coating, no manners, no excuses or rationalizations. Job is honest about what it means to suffer. Profoundly horrible things happen to people who do not deserve them. Overwhelming headlines bombard us with the realities of war, starvation, storms, abuse, school shootings, cancer, and car accidents. Surely each of us has endured suffering. A few having survived their own worst nightmare. Yet none of us understands why we are forced to bear such pain. Why in God’s Name does the God whom we proclaim as loving, powerful, and all knowing allow us to suffer? And where is the Good News in the tangles and depths of horrific misery? Well into Job’s saga, he has endured loss beyond his wildest imagination . His life’s work and passion are gone: the plentiful herds of livestock are killed with swords, the sheep and servants are burned to death, and his very own children (along with their families) are decimated by a catastrophic windstorm. A man of faith, grief-stricken Job responds according to religious and cultural standards. He tears his robe, shaves his head, falls to his knees in prayer, and blesses God. We too have a cultural formula for dealing with loss, even though our grief does not tend to fit as nicely into a construct. Caring Bridge, obituaries, visitation, and meal schedules are all part of our communal response of caring and grieving. After this horrific day, we drop off a meal, pray Job wifi get through the loss, and go home to hug our own children. After all, what could we possibly say? Is this not the appropriate place to expect Job’s suffering to stop? But for Job, just as his restless eyes open in the early morning hours, his chest aches as he remembers that the nightmare of yesterday was not a dream. As he prays for God to take the pain away, the phone rings. His physician delivers the bad news, “It’s leprosy.” Shocked, Job immediately searches for answers on the internet: “A bacterial infection with unknown origins at the time.” Job could expect cracked and hardened skin, painful lesions, skin malformations, numbing disfigurement ofhis limbs, nerve damage, eventual eyesight loss, and perhaps worst of all, a social stigma resulting in complete isolation? Job heard the death sentence loud and clear. “Hey, you won’t believe it, did you hear about Job? He’s infected. Leprosy.”

    Journal/or Preachers


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    Why w©u؛d God let something like this happen to someone like Job? What happens next to Job is what happens to most of us when we suffer loss or disease (God forbid both). Three friends from the “Temple eare team” show up. Tike many good faith eommunities, they may not know what to say, but initially they know what to do. Silently, Job’s friends sit with him on the ground observing how deeply broken, devastated, and heart-wrenehingly empty he is. They keep Shiva for the required eustom of seven days. Then things get a little messy. Throughout the rest of Job’s tale, they engage Job in a series of passionate and combative diseussions. The story of Job suffering is not a story of one. Even if he feels isolated, even if he is judged, abandoned, forgotten, or hopeless, Job’s friends are in the story. As God’s ehildren, whether we like it ٢٠not, our suffering is never just about us. Some folks say, “This 1 ؟b etw een ‘me and God.’” Well, no it’s not. It may be for a while,but our grief and suffering affeet toe people around us regardless of what we share. Job’s question of why he suffers is somehow tangled up with what those around him do and say in response to his agony. Their interactions do not answer the big question of why, but God is surely paying attention to how they interact. God is in toe room. Because this is a tale of creative poetry and myth-like drama, not only are we invited inside, but perhaps we too are given permission to engage in a bit of creative imerprotoriom^Forflteftfllowing are two parts scripture and one part imagination. After a full week of grief, Job’s friends come to check on him. He finally breaks his silence. No, these are not quiet whispers of sadness; Job is crying out in despair and brokenness wito loud, angry weeping. He shouts things you and I feel and think, but often do not have the nerve to even whisper in front of other people: “I wish 1 were never bom, so then I would not have to feel this pain 1 !(11 : مhate my life. I can’t believe God would do this. I am not resting. I am not keeping quiet. 1 am not okay! End it now, God, because my life is over. ¥ ٧٠have ruined my life; I am living a personal hell, and I do not know why! Why? Why?” Job’s friend Eliphaz gives it all he’s got. “Uh well, listen Job, we came all this way. We sat wito you for seven days and felt really bad for you because you have helped so many people over toe years. Job, toe leprosy is starting to make your face look weird. Honestly, we don’t want to catch it. We technically did what we were supposed to do, and well, how can we say this? ¥ ٢٧٠behavior is making us uncomfortable. After all, your grieving time is officially over. Hang in there, Buddy; all things happen for a reason. Buck up, give it over to God, and pray because all this must be part of God’s larger plan.” “¥ ٢٧٠words have supported those who were stumbling, and you have made firm toe feeble knees. But now it has come to you, and you are impatient. It touches you and you are dismayed” (4:4-5). “Where’s your faith anyway? Come on, get off that floor. You need to call that fancy doctor over at Duke. You need to join a support group. ¥ «٠need to listen to this great motivational speaker. You need to just push, push, push. I’msure you didn’t mean all those negative things you said, Job. It’s not so bad. God can use this. Pray. Repent. Get focused on God and not yourself.” Job is swirling. He’s overwhelmed, exhausted, and shocked. ¥et, he manages to give his friend an honest reply. “¥ ٧٠know what, Eli, I don’t want your advice. I have been focused on God, and I did mean those things I said. My life was rich and full, and I tried every day to do my very best! If I have sinned, I beg God to show me

    Pentecost 2014


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    how. In the meantime, my life is over. ־My flesh is clothed in worms and dirt. My skin hardens, and then breaks, my eye will never again see’ (7:5)! Maybe Eli, you cottld help me understand why?” On his way ont, Eli shakes his head and mntters, “I’m not the one with blisters all over my face. Figure it out yourself.” As Eli slinks out, he rolls his eyes at Job’s ungratefulness and nods at Bildad who takes another approach. He is hoping to talk some sense into Job and tell him just what he needs to hear. “You know Job, God is just testing you, and God would never give you what you couldn’t handle. ‘If you are pure and upright, then he will restore you… though your beginning was small, Job, your latter days will be very great’ (8:6). What doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger Job.” Bildad is a little bit like Joel ©Steen. He doesn’t seem like it at first, but he is. If you sin, then you are punished. The inverse of course is, if you are good enough, then God will bless you. Joel Osteen, a popular leader of people, says to Job, “Keep doing the right things. God is building character in you, and you are passing that test. Remember, the greater the struggle, the greater the reward.”^ To which Job sarcastically shouts, “Are you kidding me, Joel? You’ve got to be joking. 1 loathe my life. How dare you stop me from talking about the bidemess of my soul? How do you know how 1 feel? How do you know what makes me stronger? My character was fine before my entire family was killed. My strength was okay before these scabs on my face. Don’t you see this is more than 1 can handle? ‘God has poured me out like milk, and then curdled me like cheese’ (10:1-10).” Underneath Job is pleading, “Just tell me God, why?” Scripture indicates that Zophar cannot accept Job’s forthright and sarcastic defense . He is so overwhelmed with the magnitude of Job’s protest that he accuses Job of being downright wicked. Imagine Job is furious now, raging, and his third friend is in firing range. “You want to hear this, Zophar? God has taken my family. My rolatives and friends have failed me (no offense). The guests in my house have forgotten me. My servants ignoro me. My breath is repulsive to my wife! Why, Zophar, why do you torture me like God does?” (19:17). To which maybe his friend responds as briefly and practically as he can, “So Job, what’s the prognosis on this stuff? Do you know what you may have done to cause it? Because folks who fight these situations generally don’t do so well. You should live today like you are going to die tomorrow! Sky dive, hike, run an Ironman.” After an awkward silence, Zophar continues, “Look Job. ft could be a lot worse. My neighbor’s ex-wife’s cousin had leprosy. It was horrible. She had a really hard time. I’d tell you about it, but let’s just say, ‘to fill her belly, God sent his fierce anger into her and rained it upon her as her food. Utter darkness was laid upon her for her treasure’ (20:26). Scary stuff. Anyway, chin up. Stay strong. I’m sure its not going to be that bad. Look, 1 gotta scoot, my golf group is waiting, and well, 1 missed last week because we were mourning. You’re doing great. Just call if you need anything. Better yet, text me.” If only Job’s friends had remembered how powerful their presence was in silence and solidarity. Attempting to ﻢﺗ someone else’s suffering because we are uncomfortable or burdened with it is not the same as showing up and being fully present. Zophar barely makes it to his tee time. “Sorry guys, just stopped by Job’s. What a mess.” Another golfer says, “Man, 1 feel bad for Job, but he’s never struggled a day in his life. It finally caught up to him.” “Did you hear about the tax mix-up he had last year?” “Yeah, and remember that son of his? He was always pushing fee limits.


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    Fm sure ؛re was up to n© good. He probably brought it on himself.” “Now that you mention it, Job was always eating proeessed foods, drinking one too many; he n e v e r slowed down. It’s no shoek he got leprosy.” All that talk of Job’s friends is speeulation, and every bit is irrelevant to his suffering . Albeit insensitive, deep down his friends are trying to explain why a good and loving God would allow a good and decent person to suffer. Their acquired brand of answers may be the worst kind, because the conclusion is that he brought it on himself. Those people suffer because they are lazy. That woman was abused because she was annoying. Those people died because their religion is different than ours. Why can’t 1 get pregnant? Because 1 made mistakes when 1 was young. Why did he die? Because, 1 didn’t appreciate him enough. Why did 1 lose my job? Because, 1 was not dedicated enough. The argument that we suffer because we aren’t good enough is as wrong as Fat Robertson’s argument that the folks in New Orleans were hit by Katrina because they were sinners. That sort of nonsense lets us off foe hook. Why would we have to help people who brought it on themselves? Certainly there are consequences for our actions, but does God bring them to us? Don’t we build machines of magnificent proportions: metal and wheels and music and cell phones? Then we drive them faster and faster. So yes, there is little room for human error with major consequences.* ٢٧٠bodies have cells that sometimes overproduce for lots of different reasons, and we can’t figure out why all foe time. In foe midst of foe miracles of modem medicine, ٢٧٠bodies don’t always hold up. Cancer still stinks ٢٧٠earth spins, as it has always spun with patterns and rhythms and balance, but it is also full of living, shifting, breathing, moving particles and parts. Land and sky and water were creatively, brilliantly, and perfectly made, yet imperfectly kept. Hurricanes and fires occur, and we don’t fully understand. Does God cause all these things? There is one major belief that prevents us from folly believing that God could or would want ٧$ to suffer such horrific catastrophe. God is good and loving. Because Job also believed God is good and loving, he had to ask, “Why then, would 1 be made to suffer?” The why, like my why and your why, is wrapped in a sigh too deep for words (Romans 8:26) and a cry so raw it hurts, and there is no box to contain it. Laments are loud and honest and real, and God expects them in order that we remain faithful. If Job had completely given up on God, wouldn’t he have become quiet? Wouldn’t he have quit arguing all together? As Wendell Berry has said, “The distinguishing ’ of absolute despair is silence.”5 Job does not accept his situation because Job never stops assuming God exists and that God is all mighty and loving. £ven when he feels completely abandoned by God, Job is not resigned. Instead of going silent, he shouts. This is why his friends are so vital to foe story. Even if Job believes God is not listening and his idiot friends inflict guilt and stress and despair, they مأﺀهآ Job. They could have done so much better, but if all they do is judge and berate him, they also hear him cry out to God. The friends are certainly not a perfect faith community, but they matter. What they all learned through Job’s suffering is this: we wouldn’t ask why we suffer if we thought God was wrathful, judgmental, and punitive. If we thought God was vindictive, we would expect and understand suffering. Ascore-keeping God fits our human constructs of hierarchy, control, and achievement.

    Fentecost2014


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    Up until this point, Job and his friends operated under the assumption not that God was evil ٢٠sadistie, but rather that God was on the ground. God was in the room with them, intimately eommitted to a covenant love where God’s people keep loyalty and acknowledge God’s powerfulness. Job was faithful like that. With desire and trust, Job embodied God’s covenant and enjoyed the blessings of his joy. $ ٠when his friends deduce Job’s suffering to a condition of sinfulness or less than, they reduce the mystery of God’s passionate love for us to an unfortunate situation that we can somehow manipulate. I f we are good, then God will bless us. But that incorrect perception of God broke down on them, just like it breaks down on us over and over and over. It only makes sense that Job, and thus we, are called to search, seek, and wonder about how our lives with God at the center can feel so wrong in our darkest moments. We ask why because we know God to be good. Gne time God answered the question why. The lament was so loud, so painful, so deep and profound. A good man, having done nothing wrong, was betrayed by his friends. He screamed out to his Father, who allowed the unthinkable to occur, the abandonment of a Son by his Father, complete separation from God, otherwise known as Hell. “My God, my God, why have youforsaken m e?” (Matthew 27:46). His father must have been dying a million deaths inside. We all know that real love is vulnerable to suffering. As one theologian wrote, “A god who cannot suffer is poorer than any man.” ؛ff God was not good, if God was not loving, God would not suffer. The grief always matches the deep love. Would we really want God to answer why? If God answered, that would mean God’s promise in Christ is not what we think. It would mean God’s love is conditional, if and then, cause and effect, earning salvation. We don’t want answers. We don’t want explanations. We don’t want closure as much as we want an end to suffering. God’s act of Christ, incarnate and earthy, cooing and crawling, coughing and sneezing, walking and eating, sleeping, laughing, crying, dying, and lamenting. ..Jesus does not answer why. But He is God with us on the ground, in the room, through the tears, with the one who is suffering. Jesus does not answer why, but His resurrection grants us a hope and confidence that is far greater than even death. Job and his friends now understand that life with God is not fair. Suffering is overwhelmingly unfair, and so too is the grace we all receive made true on the cross. Grace is not gifted to us in equal measure. Grace overflows.

    Notes “ لLeprosy,” Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leprosy. 2 Walter Brueggemann, An Introduction to the Old Testament. The Canon and Christian Imagination (Louisville: John Knox ?ress, 2003), 294. 3 Joel Olsteen, Your Best Life Now: 7 Steps to Living at Your Full Potential (New York ?ublisher: FaithWords, 2007), 170. 4 James Howell, Why Bad Things Happen to Good People, Day 1,1996. 5 Wendell Berry, What are People Far? Essays (Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint Fress, 2010), 59. 6 Jurgen Moltmann, The Crucified God: The Cross ofChrist as the Foundation and Criticism ofChristian Theology (New York, Haider and Row, 1974), 222. 7 Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, V. IV, The Doctrine of Reconciliation, ed. C.W. Bromley (New York, T&T Clark, 2004),211.

  • Preaching images for the Advent season

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    Preaching Imagesfor the Advent Season

    Peter w. Marty

    St. Paul Lutheran Chureh, Davenport, Iowa

    The leetionary readings for Advent arc well known to preaehers who have been in the pulpit more than a fow Deeembers. So what does one do with them? We eould illustrate their narrative power. But illustrations have their limits. Too often, we treat them as indispensable elements of fine preaehing. If illustrations eontribute to preaehing at all, they mostly offer seraps of visual prose. Images and metaphors, on the other hand, help inspire poetry in a sermon. Images eneourage a preaeher’s heart to flirt nimbly with deep ideas. Metaphors demand that hearers flex their imagination. Images and metaphors discourage stale thinking. If you have preached these Advent texts one too many times, and fresh eyes are hard to come by, perhaps a few images and metaphors can stir your heart and get your pen moving.

    Advent 1 (a) Isaiah 64:1-9 A 56-year-old woman I know brought her husband home after six months in a rehabilitation center. A nasty car accident and multiple surgeries did a number on his brain and wreaked havoc with his mobility. He wasn’t foe same person his friends knew him to be. The twinkle in his eye was gone. And although he returned to the familiar territory of the home he built years earlier, this man and his wife faced a host of unfamiliar challenges. On many days, those challenges descended into crises of despair. The first word out of each of their mouths, spoken on foe occasion of nearly every crisis, was, “Where?” As in, “Where are we going to go with all these difficulties that are pulling us down?” Somewhat plaintively they found themselves asking, “Where is our hope?” A similar longing was on the lips of foe Hebrew people trying to find their way around Jerusalem after 70 years in exile. They were lost in what was supposed to be foe excitement of being back home. “Where is foe fence my grandfather built to encircle our vineyard?” “Where on earth did our neighborhood go?” “Where is foe temple?” The biggest question they couldn’t help but raise time and time again was, “Where are you, Cod?” That just so happens to be what foe brain-injured man and his wife kept asking too. “Where are you, Cod?” The expectations for some return to normalcy that foe couple was hoping for, and the lavish promises that foe people of Israel had heard would be in place, were not materializing. God seemed anything but present and available to these ones in crisis. The prophet doesn’t actually use foe word where in his sixty-fourth chapter. It may be too weak of a lead-in for foe depth of anguish at hand, or too prayerful a tone for the hartache inside foe returning rcfugees. Instead, he draws on the desperation ofpeople who want God to quit hiding behind the membrane that aparates heaven and earth. “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,” he cries. One can foel foe Israelites


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    clawing at that skin themselves, if only they eould reach its imagina^ height. The Hebrew people suspect their sinful ways are at the root of God’s decision to hide and he angry. They don’t like their sin any more than they appreciate God’s anger. So, they confess the former and plead for leniency on the latter. In the end, it is the humble acknowledgement of their relationship with the Lord that offers the best perspective to their frustrating wait. “Yet, o Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”

    Mark 13:24-37 The Homeland Security color-coded terrorism threat scale is now a relic of the past. It was a nervous little blip on the screen of American history, prompted by leftover anxieties from 9/11. On a spectrum scale of five colors, green at the bottom indicated a low risk of terrorist attacks, and red at the top warned of a severe risk. The system was doomed to be short-lived. Air travelers traipsing through airports quickly realized the warning was apt to be forever orange. No self-res{x؛cting homeland security official would dare lower the threat level to yellow, lest a medium risk signal suggest complacency. Yet the “severe risk” red level, if left in place, would only encourage dismissiveness in travelers’ minds. Nobody can stay perpetually ready on high alert forever. $ ٠orange, “ ٢٠high risk,” became the permanent default. In the Christian community, we are not exactly dismissive of Jesus. But few observers would accuse believers today of living on high alert. If anything, we are prone to flattening out our world, opting mostly for secularized habits and behaviors. On many days, we expect little in the world to change. The idea of Jesus returning to play a visible role in our lives inspires few. A seismograph wired to our psyche would be lucky to detect even the slightest tremor of anticipation. Seeing our weak attention ٢٠indifference to his eventual return, Jesus tells a simple story of some servants whose master left them in charge of his house, ft may be Jesus’ uncomplicated way of saying, “Don’t go to sleep on me,” a plea for vigilance that sounds an awful lot like the appeal he made to his disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane. We shouldn’t miss Jesus’ rejection of our calendarizing instincts. Since he is not in on God the Father’s secret about the timing of when the kingdom will come – “About that day ٢٠hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” – how strange that so many Christians are supremely confident they know. When will the master of the house come home? No one knows. In the evening?- that’s when a disciple betrays. At midn؛ght?-that’s when a neighbor goes knocking for bread- At cockcrow?-that’s when Feter denies. At dawn‘?-that’s when some women find the tomb empty. Any time is plausible. Jesus pulls a play out of the apocalyptic playbook and talks of cataclysmic events. Solar and lunar eclipses, falling stars, and booming thunder all may be in the forecast. The preacher might remember the meaning oiapocalypse in Greek-to remove ٢٠tear away a veil. One can play with this veil idea homiletically. Whether the veil is made of clouds (v. 26) or something more immediate to our lives that fogs up our vision, the Lord is coming. There is no stopping this return.


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    Advent 2 (a) 2Peter3:8-15a Imagine watching an ugly him clip of your house being consumed by fire. Some dreaded Santa Ana winds roar up the canyon one sunny day, and everything that means coziness to you is gone. In a matter of minutes, nothing is left. The roof shingles turn to goo. The siding melts. The walls dissolve into ash. Losing the house is one thing ؛knowing that everything you cherish inside your dwelling has been destroyed is quite another. Gone is your childhood scrapbook, your grandmother’s jewelry, your retirement savings, your favorite chair, your com- ^ter-w ell, everything. With all these precious things eviscerated, what would your life look like? What would the contours of meaning be for you now? Would there still be a “you” worth getting to know? These are not superfluous questions. They are significant ones informing the writing of Second ?eter. The author’s eyes see foe image of a fiery meltdown in foe end times. We know that biblical writers possessed a vivid imagination whenever end times were their subject matter. In the case ofSecond Peter, where scoffers in the community were treating foe idea of the Lord’s return as a joke, foe imaginative fires of the writer only burned hotter. What could he say of value to skeptics who didn’t even believe in the Lord’s return and who used their cynicism to justify loose living (3:3)? In our appointed selection from chapter three, foe writer addresses more receptive believers. These ones were willing to give him a hearing. He posed a question to them that remains relevant for listeners in our day: “What sort of persons do you want to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, as you wait for the coming of the day of God?” Or, in alternative wording, “If you were stripped of everything, and if everything you thought mattered in your life suddenly disappeared, what kind of person would you be?” Everybody in on this reading gets to reflect on his or her relationship with God. A morel examination of personal goodness doesn’t have to organize the reflection. We are called to be holy long before we were called to be good. So, perhaps a study of particular ways our lives get dedicated to God, or set apart for a specific purpose, will offer the best value for preaching.

    Mark 1:1-8 According to church tradition, John the Baptist is the patron saint of bird dealers , hailstorms, spasms, tailors, convulsions, foe Knights of Malta, epileptics, and Dodge City, Kansas. What any of these things have in common, or why they would be attached to John’s ministry in foe wilderness, is not clear, though a city dweller visiting Dodge City might consider that town to be foe definition of wilderness. The list is mostly a sign of our confusion over what to make of John. We toss out oddities and tape them to foe back of John’s camel hair jacket. He was a wild man by anyone’s reckoning-phony-free perhaps, but also not likely to make foe invite list for your daughter’s wedding. His wardrobe, not to mention his locust breath, was an instant turn-off to all but foe most serious seekers. Despite his coarse appearance and his distance from any city center, people kept taking the time to go out and hear him. They flocked to him in great numbers, sitting at his feet and listening to what he had to say. The biblical writers find his eccentric manner note­


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    worthy. But so far as we ean tell, those who were eager for a Messiah didn’t give his oddities a second thought. They simply figured that John was the guy you had to go through if you were to get to Jesus. Like a stream that hikers must ford to reach the other side, with no logs ٢٠stepping-stones to help, John was the stream. His words were as clear as the water with which he baptized. He spoke with frankness about repentance, insisting that people turn from the wrong way to a better way. It was the sort ٢٠honesty that would instantly eliminate a political candidate in our day who speaks the truth a bit too plainly. But John was no candidate, and the people who stayed to hear him were open to a life different from the one they were living. They just needed some directional help for getting there. When our firstborn was ready to come home from the hospital, I knew our house would be unfamiliar to him. So I raced home, blew up a few balloons, and taped a note to his bedroom door: “Jacob, this will be your room.” That directional sign was an indication that this little guy had a permanent place in our home, even if we didn’t have the foggiest idea what his presence yet meant for the contour ٢٠our lives. The sixteenth-century painter Matthias Grünewald, in his famous Isenheim altarpiece , depicts John the Baptist as a directional guide. With his long, bony finger, John points at toe crucified Jesus. Had Grünewald painted an Advent scene ٢٠John, he might well have had the wild man standing atop a rock, pointing emphatically at a little sign he has affixed to the torso region of his listeners’ tunics. 1 can envision each sign, emblazoned with toe same announcement, referencing the human heart inside those chests: “God, this will be your room.”

    Advent 3 (a) Isaiah 61:1-4,8-11 Since John toe Baptist figures prominently again in the Gospel for this day, let’s take a look at toe otoer two principal readings, beginning with Isaiah. “The Lord has anointed m e… to bring good news to the oppressed,to bind up toe broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to toe prisoners.” Jesus chose toese words ٢٠Isaiah to mark the opening of his ministry. It was an inaugural move he apparently made with great intentionality. No post-؛t note marked toe passage for his eye to catch. He unrolled toe synagogue scroll deliberately and “found toe place,” Luke tells us, where some ancient had inscribed toe words. Jesus knew them, perhaps by heart. They became toe purpose statement for his entire vocation. Not enough churches in America organize toeir whole ministry around people who get stepped on. Congregations get busy running programs and ensuring that money comes, such that they forget to do little more than talk about the downtrodden people who interested Jesus so m11<״h As one reads the first half ٢٠toe appointed reading from Isaiah and compares it wito the second half, toe contrast between temporariness and permanence, ٢٠uncertainty and stability, is unmistakable. Isaiah describes toe renewal that will take place in toe lives of those who are pressed down by toe weight of their circumstances. They will wear a “mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.” There may be a whole sermon ؛٨that one phrase. If we were to walk in toe tattered shoes of homeless persons in warm weather cities, where legislation to protect tourism rarely operates in their favor, we’d experience a taste of life on toe run. How do you settle into a good night’s sleep when


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    you are always watehing your backside? “We’re so sleep-deprived, we’re running around,” said Bill Garcia, a5l-year-old man who has lived on the streets ٤٠Waikiki since coming from Los Angeles to search forajob. “We ask [authorities], ‘Where do you want us to go?’ and they just say, ‘Get out ٤٠Waikiki.’”أ Isaiah knows that the Lord loves justice and hates robbery. This isn’t bank robbery at issue, ?eople robbed of important assets like sleep and dignity will experience new stability with the coming ٤٠the Lord. New dwelling places, new wardrobes, new jewelry will be their compensation ٢٠٤enduring such a pa؛n؛ul past. This is no prosperity gospel. It is simply a reference to bent-over people suddenly walking as tall as all others who have convinced themselves that their wealth and comfort are deserved, ٢٠that their distancing ٤٠the poor is justified.

    1 Thessalonians 5:16-24 Imagine your parishioners re-reading this passage on a Sunday afternoon in December, having heard it in church, but now trying to figure out their week ahead. What would their takeaway from ?aul’s words be? Or ؛rom your sermon? “Rejoice always.” Really? I have a joyous spirit, but not when I think ٤٠my brother who re؛uses to even try and land a job. “Pray without ceasing.” Only nut jobs turn everything into a prayer. Right? Am I supposed to pray while watching BSPN? “Give thanks in all circumstances.” I pre؛er to be a bit more selective in my gratitude. I am positively not thank؛ul ٢٠٤the pancreatic cancer in my friend Ron. “Do not quench the Spirit.” What spirit? I don’t feel any zip these days; I’m depleted. “Test everything.” Even my brownies? I know that recipe backwards and forwards, thank you very much. “Bold fast to what is good.” I love it when our family laughs. It’s the best feeling. But what happens when it ends? “Abstain from every evil.” If I have to attend another Christmas cookie open house this month, I’m going to go crazy. I want to say no to all of our friends, but how? Their parties are not exactly evil. So what do these little admonitions mean? Many preachers tend to like New Testament epistles where ethics for right living are laid out in clear fashion, ft may be that lists of imperatives give the illusion that preaching is mostly about telling people what to do. When you have a checklist printed in scripture, you may believe your sermon preparation is half complete. Little interpretive work is needed. Not so. If God is at the heart ٤٠every good sermon, each ٤٠Paul’s injunctions to the Thessalonians has the character of God wrapped within. Paul is not proposing courteous living according to certain do’s and don’ts. Be is talking about Godly living where God is integral to the shape ٢٧٠٤٠lives and decisions. Gnly God can make us holy. It is God who sanctifies both our spirits and our bodies. ? ٢٠those who are wide open, ٢٠even partially open, to exploring more holiness for their lives this Advent, the faithfulness of God stands at the ready. A preacher can help reveal different angles ٤٠what that holiness might look like.

    Advent 4 (a) 1 Samuel 7:1-11,16 At one time or another, every one of us draws certain comparisons between the house ٢٠apartment in which we live and the dwelling place of others. We reflect on not only what we have in the way ٤٠daily comfort, but we imagine what would be ours if we upgraded ٢٠downgraded. Whether we live in a palace ٢٠a hovel, whether


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    we feel self-c©nscious and embarrassed ©٢ disappointed and jealous, fee practice of makin§ mental comparisons between our residence and fee homes of others is normal. It happens quietly in our heads. So what would you conclude if you were to contemplate fee appropriateness of your house in light of what God would choose for your earthly days? Or, what if you wem to contrast your house wife God’s habitat, if it were even possible to conceive of an actual residence for fee divine? This second question is what David wrestles wife one day. Surrounded by his own luxurious lodgings, he wonders why fee Lord has been relegated to a pup tent. He appears troubled that fee Lord would have a dwelling place that is no more permanent than a portable Ark of the Covenant that gets moved all over fee region. Basking in his elaborate palace, David proposes an upgrade for God’s residence. It’s a tad presumptuous to think for God, but David wants to build fee Lord a house. With a simple comeback, however, God reverses David’s plan and promises to build him a royal house – a “dynasty.” New Testament readers later learn that fee lineage of Jesus derived from this dynasty.؛ Christians do not have an Ark of fee Covenant to tow around. And there are limits to our popular metaphor suggesting that a church building equals fee house of fee Lord. But this Advent, it might be a good idea to explore ways in which we can move the presence of fee Lord more fully inside our households. What new rituals ٢٠disciplines might we be open to giving a try? Think creatively here. Since much of our spiritual development occurs outside fee walls of church, this is a perfect day to stop and reflect, inside our cozy living spaces, what matters most to us about God. Sitting reflectively in such comfort may help us ask why so many of our daily decisions and behaviors disregard God. Basking in fee temple of our own homes offers little excuse for us to feel self-satisfied. As God reminded David, his prosperity was due to God’s caring attention. God remains the primary source of our provisions as well.

    Luke 1:26-38 Artistic crèche designers do a fine job of depicting Mary in adorable fashion. She is fee obedient one who, in fee silence of her inanimate face, says yes to fee angel Gabriel. “Here I am, fee servant of the Lord; let it be wife me according to your word.” She does not speak as a statuette, of course. We have to imagine words on her lips. More difficult to see in a Mary crèche figurine is the anxiety she displays earlier in fee story. When first informed of her unplanned pregnancy, her startled response is: “How can this be?” A sculptor would have to add serious contortion to her face to reflect this panic. “How can this be?” I hear people utter such dismay all fee time. They change fee wording, but fee meaning is fee same. “I have no idea how I landed this job. I must just be lucky.” “This makes no sense. My brother never displayed an ounce of depression. Why wouldn’t he leave a note?” “Is this a bad joke or a sweet dream that, after 23 years of marriage and no kids, we are suddenly pregnant wife twins? Oh, Lordy.” “How can this be? Yesterday he told me he loved me like it was just a normal day. Today, he’s gone. Backed up and gone.” If Mary got over her dismay rather quickly, Joseph could not have. Imagine yourself in his place, fee left-out mate ofa pregnant teenager, pummeling your conscience


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    every night at bedtime: “How ean this be?!’’ It was like an evening version 01 Mary’s morning siekness. None of the unexpected circumstances that enter our lives ask for our permission. They just show up, usually without an angel hanging around to explain them. They appear on the doorstep of our hearts without warning. Some of them send us reeling; others send us dancing. Either way, the adventure of faith starts the moment we decide that we are going to deal with these unplanned encounters. Mary’s exemplary “yes” remains a model for the ages. She faces the in-con-ceivable truth that God would choose her for the burden and joy of this birth. And, she accepts it all. The word Mary takes to heart is the same word we aim to hear every time life surprises us ٢٠beats us up: “Nothing will be impossible with God.”

    Notes 1 Adam Nagourney, “Honolulu Shores up Tourism with Crackdown on Homeless,” The New York Times, June 22,2014. 2 Luke 1:2?.