Tap Dancing and Prize Fights (But Not Preaching)

I’m a preacher … lately retired, and now back again as an interim. 

So, why not listen to some sermon podcasts?

I did … a “progressive” podcast, so to speak … good speakers in historic Protestant Churches … la la la.

I listened with hope - maybe I could land a few good ideas, some punchy phrases … insights with some creative way of saying it … who knows what? I listened in good faith.

What I heard was tap dancing - clickety clack, clickety clack, furious and fancy footwork … all around, toward, and post-haste away, from anything that would merit the term “sermon” in days such as ours.

What I heard were preachers scared to death - scared to face the reality of the day, scared to preach Jesus … preaching the Bible rather than preaching Biblically … offering nostrums and platitudes, sweet throwaway phrases devoid of meaning, seasoned a bit with the appearance of exegesis and maybe a fine quote or two.

Another image came to mind - that of prize fighting, when a boxer, for whatever reason, pulls her punch … holds back, looks good, flails around, with sweat and spit, yet fails to deliver the punch.

The world is teeter-tottering from one disaster to another … for me, good preaching considers the hopes and fears of all the years present in the congregation. 

Folks know, full-well, what’s going on, if not in detail, then at least in their bones. They’re rattled and bewildered, even if they’re full-tilt running away from it all. 

I was disappointed.

I turned, instead, to a political podcast created by some fine historians.

Historians who tell the truth, run to the smoke, and not away … who are rattled and bewildered, as we all are, but find solace in the truth - the truth that offers hope, the truth that includes the darkest of potential outcomes - danger, defeat, and destruction. 

The prophets offered both hope and the warning … Jesus called the people to faithfulness, with the reminder that the present course could well lead to disaster. History is loaded with hope, and with a crushing reality - that sometimes the worst will happen. 

Guernica is bombed. Ukraine is being demolished. The Supreme Court is in the hands of the Federalist Society.

Truth has a hard edge … the enemies of truth are legion, and those who abide in the truth know the cross. 

This is not surprising, is it?

Give me truth-tellers … not tap dancers.

Truth-tellers who deliver the punch.

Americans Have Been Dazzled ...

Americans have been dazzled out of their brains by wealth.
We love it.
The thought of it.
And having it someday ourselves.

Our preachers have taught us get-up-and-go.
Our teachers have taught us how to have a career.
Our preachers failed often, too often, about love.
Our teachers failed often, too often, about daring to think.

America's god is really, truly, thoroughly, crazily, Mammon.
TV, books, prayer meetings, continuing education, and seminars.
It's all about wealth.
Who has it.
Who doesn't.

Meanwhile the wealthy go about their sordid lives.
Using charity to dazzle us.

We puff up with admiration for these "kindly" people.
Who, like the rich of Jesus' time.
Make sure everyone sees them with their bags of gold.
Dropping them loudly into the treasuries of human pride.

Meanwhile the widow, gamed by the system, thinks it's the thing to do.

And maybe it is.
So she gives, too.
Her two pennies.
The last she has.

Jesus loves her for it.
But he does't love the system that betrays her in.
A system that takes.
Her last two pennies.
And her house, too.
Everything, it takes.
And then: promises God's blessing.
Yet never delivers, but always promises:
Health, wealth, and happiness.


But God, it seems, isn't about wealth.
So those who have it.
Have to create a god who loves it.
Who bestows wealth upon the righteous.
Or so they think:
The deserving.
The self-made.
Those who help themselves, of course.
With prayer and bible-reading.
Going to church.
Going for the best seats in the house.
Wearing their going-to-church Sunday best.
To dazzle the folks with wealth.
And to keep the folks in line.
Helpless to be anything but envious.
And always:
Amazed and,
Dazzled.

It's Mammon who laughs cruelly at the fooled.
It's Mammon who collects their souls.
And chows down on them, devouring them with glee.
Turning their wealth into nightmares of fear and hatred.
And the poor are ground down to flavor the feast.

And so it goes.
America the Great.
Mad for money.
Lusting for wealth.

We've rewarded the preachers who've dazzled us with dreams.
We've rewarded the teachers who stole our ability to think.
We've bowed down to Mammon so ofter we don't know any better.

And while the poor languish.
The rich laugh.
On the fantail of a yacht.
Or 40 thousand feet up in a private jet.
In comfort and style and pride and piety.

And the widow gives her last two pennies.
And her children starve.
And then she dies.

She was better than all of them.
But a victim of their game.

A game Jesus despised.
No wonder they did him in.

Needy and Greedy

Is a person born greedy?
No, I think not.
But born needy, for sure.
For music and mercy.
For a soft bed and gentle hugs.

And if those needs for love and security,
Are not met, need segues into greed.

A greed that can never be satisfied.
Because greed grabs and takes and
Hates,
Hates,
Hates,
Those who have what it wants.

That's when greed turns cruel.
It shows up a lot in the rich and the powerful.
Because greed works. often times.
Greed gains success, and builds country clubs,
And a few towers along the way.
And even becomes a President!

Greed grows cruel.
Hating those who have what it wants.
And worse, hating those who have little.

Blaming them for their poverty.
Naming the lazy and calling them rapists.
Building walls around them.
Shaming them and demanding of them.

Strange that evangelicals should join the chorus of greed.
But maybe not surprising, because evangelicalism hollows
Out the soul and depletes the spirit with empty promises.
Tells people they don't have to think.
And only do as they're told.
Regaling the the people with promises.

Promises that offer gold, and deliver lead instead.

And so the soul turns greedy all the more.
It wants god, more god, more faith, more this, more that, and what's the difference for the word, "more"? More of god, more of money, more of anything, everything ... because more has no boundaries, no rest, no purpose other than more.

And in Jesus' name, the evangelical soul joins the chorus of condemnation of the poor ...

Building walls of ill will toward those who, with their poverty, 

Embarrass the evangelical.
Those of whom Jesus might well have spoken a "blessed are."
But no blessing in the evangelical soul.
The greedy soul.
The soul of the damned and the soul of the damaged.

And in turn, the damned soul can only damn all the more.
And damage everyone and everything it touches.

Too bad when the needy, in the ebbs and flows of life,
Which can be mighty cruel, we all know,
Should become greedy.

And worse, when that greed acquires money.
And the pride of work and achievement.
And fame and notoriety.
In a culture that bows down before Mammon.
A culture that loves filthy lucre.
And admires the self-made jerk.
And believes in the virtue of skin color and privilege over others of darker hue, or other tongues.

Too bad when that happens.

Too bad ... for everyone.
For everything.
For every creature under heaven.
All creatures,
Great and small.

When the sad and greedy soul takes command.
And leads a nation down the road of perdition.

There will be a time of reckoning.
There always is.
A time to regain balance.
And to hear Jesus say, "Blessed are ..."

To the reader of these words.
Be of good cheer.
Be mindful of your spirit.
Your soul.

Do not be tempted by hate, even righteous hate.
But choose the goodness that we call love.
Open arms.
Open minds.

And truth will walk on in.
And along with truth.
Compassion.
And with compassion, all that is sacred!

Purposeful Unhappiness

Different kinds of unhappiness:

Some of it arises from a deep and powerful connection to the universe, and to its pain.

Was Jesus unhappy?
Of course, he was, a good many times.
But his unhappiness wasn't destructive.
It was creative, compassionate and healing.
Strong enough to be deconstructed on a cross.
But the very nature of his unhappiness gave rise to life.
In the end/beginning, it couldn't be killed.

There's another kind of unhappiness that comes from disconnects:
From regret and jealousy.
From hate and bitterness.
Abuse and neglect.
Feelings of inadequacy, helplessness, frustration.

Religion often generates this kind of unhappiness.
A sad "righteousness."
That gloats in the sorrow of others.
That dreams of punishment and death for the many.
And salvation for the righteous few.
It's never peaceful.
It snarls and growls a lot.

Religious or not.
It lashes out and despises the world.

It finds purpose in destructiveness.
Deconstructive, taking something apart.
Smashing it to pieces.

In the end, disaster.
For those caught in its grip.
And at the very source.
In the soul of the unhappy.
Death.

Yet, for those unhappy because of connection.
Unhappy in their compassion.
Unhappy in their vision for a new day.
Something good and beautiful for the world.

Those who refuse to build walls.
Who refuse the language of race and exclusion.
Those who speak truth to power.
And challenge the lies that power needs to be power.

For them, life.
Life on the hard side, for sure.
Life drained away in labor and love.
And life replenished in the doing of good.

Life returned to the giver by the universe.
Life at the source.
In the soul.
The center.
Spreading out.

It's okay to be unhappy in the goodness of compassion.
Compassion requires it.
And makes it whole and constructive.
A powerful unhappiness that dreams and strives.

And the universe says: "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Temptations in the Wilderness

The temptations of Jesus in the wilderness all boil down to the easy way out.

1. Choose charity - make some bread.
2. Choose glamour and power - throw yourself off the Temple.
3. Relax and bow down - I'll give it all to you.

Charity, of course, makes the giver feel good, offers some temporary relief, but doesn't change the systems that produce poverty, suffering and hunger, even as those who indulge in charity go on eating.

Glamor and power? Religion is always given to these temptations - whether it be the "before and after" testimony, the stories of healing and conversion. Is there truth there? Of course there is, but it's ultimately flawed because it's all about the performer and the performance rather than the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

False worship? So easy ... look at power and wealth, the kingdoms of the world and all of their splendor ... bow down, relax, kick off your shoes ... don't bother with anything other than yourself.

Jesus chose the truth, the hard way through ... and for that, I'm eternally grateful.

And eternally burdened, too ... for this is the Jesus Way, a Way that God, for whatever reason, has laid upon my life. Sure, I'll use charity, but warily, because charity is a snare.

I'm not about to throw myself off the pinnacle, but throw myself into ideas and marches and protests and letters ...

I'll not bow down to the splendor of the world, though I love comfort and tranquility ... but I'll not divert my mind and soul from the travail of the day and the evil that besets us.

As best I can, in Christ, and by the Spirit, with sisters and brothers of all sorts and persuasions, I will choose the Jesus Way through life.

The Spirit Has Seized Our Youth

Speaking to Nicodemus, Jesus reminds him that the Spirit has a life of its own - it cannot be claimed, manipulated, or determined, by a human being. Yet, the Spirit's purpose and joy (I would assume) is to draw close to a human being, infusing it with God's purpose and hope, giving energy, the kind of energy that hovered over the primal waters of Genesis and gave form to chaos.

Been thinking about the Spiritual Presence in our world, and how the Spirit is hovering over the chaos of American violence and guns, suddenly bringing forth an unexpected movement of youth, their voices crying in the wilderness of our shame and ignorance, calling attention to what might be, a better world.

There's something about their passion transcending the moment, coming from where the Spirit itself resides, in the heart of God, a God who doesn't give up on the creation, because the creation is essentially good, in spite of the existential chaos generated by human resistance to the Good.

The youth, in their singularity, and in their community, have been seized, I believe, by the Spiritual Presence, the greater good, the hope of the ages, the peace that surpasses ... taking them, as the Spirit did to Jesus, into the wilderness, tempted by the Evil One, to take the easy way out (I'm sure), perhaps wondering if it's worth it. But in the power of the Spirit, they speak truth to false power and false prophets and false voices, and in ways beyond expectation, as with Jesus in the wilderness, there are angels there with sustenance and mercy.

The Spirit blows where it will ... and in this case, in the passionate words of the youth, I see the kind of power that transforms, because its willing to shoulder great burdens and take up great causes (isn't this what the Cross is all about?).

The Spirit spoke to the youth, and to all of us: "How much more violence and death are you willing to accept for the sake of a few who have distorted American history and the Second Amendment in order to make money and possess a false and idolatrous power?"

The Spiritual Presence loves this world, because it's God's world ... and where's there's chaos, the Spirit hovers, and in the wind of its love, order emerges, and something new and good takes form.

The Spirit, indeed, goes where it will ... and to all the adults with their guns and their Bibles, how odd it must seem that the Spirit should alight upon the hearts and minds of our youth!

Life Is a Mystery

Life is a mystery.

That’s what it is.

Crazy, wild, mean.

Stomach-tumbling.

Churning.

Burning.

Does anyone really know what it is?

I don’t think so.

That’s why we have religion.

It tries to tame the wild beast.

Give it some meaning.

Point the way and say it’s ok.

Is that what Jesus did?

And so they killed him.

His meaning wasn’t their meaning.

They meant money and power.

Temples and tables.

Full of money and meanness.

Dead lambs and throat-slit bulls.

All for a price, of course.

That’s what they meant.

To tame the beast.

The wild mystery.

We call life.

They thought in terms of conquest.

Who’s in and who’s ought.

Who’s naughty and who’s nice.

Jesus tried to tame the beast.

With tiny words of kindness.

A welcome to little children.

And the lady at the well.

And Mary who wanted to be a disciple.

And sit at the feet of the Master.

There’ll be none of that, they said.

That’s not how the beast is tamed.

Our way or the highway.

Make your choice.

The crown of gold.

Or the cross of misery

So they tamed him.

And we’ve been scratching our heads ever since.

Their way, or his.

Their way is money and power and glory and war.

His way, hmmm … different.

Frightening is his way.

Terrible and true.

Unsure and not so safe.

How do we tame the beast?

Ride the mystery?

Talk to the storm?

We call life?

The crown of gold.

Or the cross of misery.

Today you’ll be with me in paradise.

Balderdash.

Or is it?

Can there be something here?

To tame the beast?

Ride the mystery?

Go to the source and drink?

Cool water …

On a hot day?

Bible, Jesus, Land and Water

August 8, 2017

A kindly friend asked me to share my thoughts on the Bible, Jesus and stewardship of land and water.

Books, big books, and then some, have been written on all of this, but here goes, my version, and brief … 

The Bible

It’s here … and can’t be ignored. It’s been read by millions as “holy writ” … God’s Word and all of that. In the hands of some, it’s become a weapon, to hurt. For others, a means to heal. Why it should be so easily used for such diametrically opposed purposes is a clue to the nature of the Bible - it’s here, and it refuses to tell us how to read it. It’s up to us.

And speaking of that, it’s important for us to know something of our own story - the values we hold, the kind of family that reared us, and what it is that moves us.

Knowing that will shed some light on how we read the Bible. Angry people find anger; frightened people find fear; proud people find support for their pride; hurting people find hope; lost people guidance; generous people love. 

I think there’s a dialogue of sorts between us and the Bible … but much of what we read is determined by what we bring to it. 

And maybe the Holy Spirit … but that’s for another book or so.

Jesus

He’s there … in the text … in the hymns and stories of faith. The Bible never quite says, “This is who he is.” It leaves a lot to the imagination. 

No doubt, there are some who shy away from Jesus and would rather read stuff from the Old Testament, about conquering, killing and punishment. It makes them feel better, in a very strange sort of way.

Jesus himself seems to have his favorite items … it’s important, or so I think, to pay attention to that.

To follow Jesus is not easy … nor should it be. 

To know something of Jesus may well lead us to the Father … or remind us that the Father is our Father … and to God we belong, in life and in death. Period.

Is there anything after this life?

Whatever one says, it’s helpful to ask why we would want that?

When it comes to Jesus, I like to think that we need someone like him to take our hand, when, like Peter, we in water over our heads, which happens a great deal. 

We’re wonderful, and shitty, all at the same time … we need something, grace; we need someone, Jesus, to tip the scales toward the wonderful side of things. The shitty part remains, but with some help, it doesn’t have to be so strong. Better angels, and all of that. 

Anyway, back to Jesus … he’s there, in the text … Christianity is all about him … though Christianity has paid less attention to what he said and did, and mostly to his death … a bloody business that seems to please a lot of folks, who claim it as their passage way to happy times after this life. Oh well …

I think Jesus remains enigma … and so he should … yet some things are clear, at least for me: be kind, be loving, forgive quickly and deeply … hang in there … give rather take … again, the Holy Spirit … but, as Is I say, that’s another book, and likely a big one.

God helps us, I think … some have tried to turn this into a religious business, and put it on TV. But that pretty well messes it all up.

To follow Jesus … yes. 

And better, far better, to do that with others. 

In the end, to hope that others will say our life was worth the living, that they’re grateful to have known us, and in our own little way, we made this a better world. For me, in the mix of all of this, Jesus remains … for me, from little on … to this very moment … Jesus.

Stewardship of land and water.

They are here.

And of God.

And good … 

To use them, yes … but with care. 

Endless exploitation for short-term pleasure is the death of these remarkable elements, and then our death. Endless technology will not save us from our own greed.

Pay attention to what land and water say to us. If we listen, we hear the word of life, and words of warning, too. They will survive us, outlive us. Or maybe, like Mars, one day they’ll be gone, too, and this blue-green planet will turn dry and read and barren. 

But until then …

To honor land and water is to honor God … to honor what God made … what God declares good, and what God intends to hold together for a new heaven and a new earth.

For me, putting it all together, the Bible, Jesus, land and water … they’re all here, one way or the other … before I got here, and after I’m gone … and it pays to pay attention, serious attention, to things of this magnitude. They’re bigger than me; much bigger, and hold lessons and memories and majesty.

Can only hope and pray, work and weave … and sing, “This is my Father’s world” … or Mother’s, too … because God is both, and then some … but that’s for another book, a very, very, very, big one.

Life Is a Mystery

Life is a mystery.

That’s what it is.

Crazy, wild, mean.

Stomach-tumbling.

Churning.

Burning.

Does anyone really know what it is?

I don’t think so.

That’s why we have religion.

It tries to tame the wild beast.

Give it some meaning.

Point the way and say it’s ok.

Is that what Jesus did?

And so they killed him.

His meaning wasn’t their meaning.

They meant money and power.

Temples and tables.

Full of money and meanness.

Dead lambs and throat-slit bulls.

All for a price, of course.

That’s what they meant.

To tame the beast.

The wild mystery.

We call life.

They thought in terms of conquest.

Who’s in and who’s out.

Who’s naughty and who’s nice.

Jesus tried to tame the beast.

With tiny words of kindness.

A welcome to little children.

And the lady at the well.

And Mary who wanted to be a disciple.

And sit at the feet of the Master.

There’ll be none of that, they said.

That’s not how the beast is tamed.

Our way or the highway.

Make your choice.

The crown of gold.

Or the cross of misery

So they tamed him.

And we’ve been scratching our heads ever since.

Their way, or his.

Their way is money and power and glory and war.

His way, hmmm … different.

Frightening is his way.

Terrible and true.

Unsure and not so safe.

How do we tame the beast?

Ride the mystery?

Talk to the storm?

We call life?

The crown of gold.

Or the cross of misery.

Today you’ll be with me in paradise.

Balderdash.

Or is it?

Can there be something here?

To tame the beast?

Ride the mystery?

Go to the source and drink?

Cool water …

On a hot day?

The Center-Point

The Center-Point of a life well lived, a life willing to be engaged, to offer itself up, to expend its best as best it can, for the exulted vision of God's World, the Kingdom of God, if you will, where swords are beaten into plowshares and everyone has their own fig tree ... where all are welcome, all find healing, all find their rightful place upon God's earth.

Powerful images that lure me on, that keep me going, that prevent the sorrows of the day from draining my soul of purpose and peace. And lest anyone get the wrong idea, personal sacrifice and engagement will, indeed, drain away purpose and peace, leaving the soul bereft and the body tired. As it should be.

But it's a state of being that cannot long be sustained - out little cup of courage is just that, a little cup, and though some have a cup a bit larger than others, or at least drink of its courage a bit more slowly, sometimes the cup is drained quickly, and we drink in huge gulps, and sometimes the cup is shattered.

As it should be, for anyone who hears the call of God to give, and to keep on giving.

But also the call of God, to come apart for prayer and healing, to seek moments of peace and quiet, away from the maddening crowd, to take a breath, catch a few winks, sing some songs, laugh with fellow-travelers, tell some rowdy jokes, recalibrate one's inner compass and wash the loin cloth for another day of girding.

This morning, from the Lectionary, Psalm 27.4 - "One thing I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after; to live in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, and to inquire in his temple."

To ask and seek.
To live and to behold.
To inquire.

In the swirl of madness that has come to my land, in the midst of the unholy trinity of Lies, Greed and Cruelty, I find in Scripture surcease, a place to find my bearings and regain my balance.

Never an escape from reality, but a pause, the pause that refreshes, renews and restores.

Jesus going off to pray.
Elijah in the cave.
Moses on the Mountain.

May all of us have such a center-point, a place of retreat and refreshment ... to see beauty ... and to ask the deepest questions of life, to inquire as to purpose, and along the way, discover that we're never quite alone, but always belong, not only to God, but to one another, as well.

The house of the LORD is never a vacant place, but teems with people and spirits of good will and love and courage.

The center-point.

Hate What Is Evil ... Romans 12

"Hate what is evil," says Paul the Apostle.

That means to reject ... utterly.
To have nothing to do with it.
To turn one's back to it.
And flee.

Hence, Jesus.
To "hate" one's family, if necessary.

To be ready to step away.
Step aside.
If the family, for some reason or the other.
Should impede the flow of faith.
And not just faith, as something held within the mind and heart.
But faith lived.
Faith of the feet.
Faith on the ground.

Families sometimes impede that faith with concern.
"We fear for your safety."
"We only want the best."
"You'll never make any money at it."
"We want you to be happy."

When faith is impeded by family love.
Or is it love?
What is it, but maybe something dark and wicked?
Jesus is clear: some stuff is all dressed up in pretty clothes.
But it's all lies.
Lies from the pit of hell.

Reject if needed.
Family and all.
Friends, too.
It's that kind of world.
Then, and now.
Though some times have been a bit easier.
And faith has seemed to be a lark.
A walk in the park.
Something cool for the kids.
And great youth groups.
And games and praying for friends who are yet damned.
For their lack of faith.
Moody Bible Institute.
And all the rest.
Jargon and junk.

Hate what is evil.

And hold fast to what is good.

Powerful stuff.
Truth that stings.
The cross that's heavy.

I'd rather my cross be a lapel pin.
Wouldn't you?
Or a necklace to grace my neck.
Or a bracelet, or a logo on my t-shirt.
A badge of pride: "I'm saved; too bad for you."

But crosses are made for shoulders.
Crosses are heavy and crude.
And splintered.

They've been used before.
There's blood on them from others.
Others who have passed this way.
To death.

And great is the evil that wears an expensive suit.
Or a lovely dress from Paris.
And quotes the Bible.
And tells of Jesus.
Great is that evil that deludes and deceives and decorates itself with goodness.

Hate what is evil.

Hold fast to what is good.

Don't let it go, no matter what others might say.
Don't let it go, and lose a chance for the golden moment.
The truth, that alone sets any of us free.
And not just me and mine.

But you and yours.
The truth that liberates from the lies and the legions.
The prisons of the system, the laws of the lawless.
The rules of those who know no rule but their own wealth and power.

Truth that liberates.
The good that saves.
Hold fast to what is good.

Hate what is evil.

Praise God?

Psalm 146.
1 Praise the LORD! Praise the LORD, O my soul!
2 I will praise the LORD as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God all my life long.

Praise.

What a bitter word ... sometimes.

Since we are often are led to think of praise as something joyful, exuberant, exultant - woo hoo, whoopee ding dang, and ain’t God’s love just the most wonderful thing in the world?”

But such is not the case with my good friend, Jeremiah the Prophet.

Nor is it the case with another good friend, Job.

Or, for that matter, my Savior, Jesus ... who certainly isn’t jumping up and down, waving his arms, and shouting Hosanna in the Garden of Gethsemane.

So, the question: does “praise” include the darker notes of despair, sorrow, bitterness, rage, disappointment? Does “praise” include the dark moments of a Jeremiah, a Job and a Jesus?

I believe so.

To turn toward God in despair, to lament the times, or one’s situation ... to level the charges of doubt ... to question God’s integrity ... to get totally pissed off at God ... to lay before God all the complaints of life ...

That, too, is praise ... 

It speaks the truth of the moment ... it’s honest and forthright ... and in a curious way, expresses confidence that God will hear, that God deserves to hear, that God can be trusted even when I’m expressing my gravest doubts - accusing God, questioning God, ready to walk away from God and never look back!

It helps empty the soul of darkness ... and heaven knows, and so do I, that the soul needs a good shaking out now and then, to empty it, of all things, good and bad, to make room for another day.

Whatever is has to be admitted, confronted, expressed ... repression is the servant of despair ... free expression is the consort of love ... “a love that will not let me go” ... because “there is a wideness in God’s mercy” ...

So, on those bitter days when God’s love seems more like a cruel joke than a blessing, this, too, is a part of our journey ... a chapter among many other such chapters ... so let God have it, express the darkness of despair, the Dark Night of the Soul, and such is, in its own curious way, a form of praise.

And I dare say, that God welcomes, above all else, honesty ... honesty is the first virtue of praise! ... the exultant expression, or the moment soaked in tears and bitterness, the dance of joy or the dirge of despair.

Praise the LORD ... all my life long.

Why I'm a Liberal!

Not sure when I became a liberal.
Though some of it's in my DNA, I think.

At different points in time.
It's the only position that made sense to me.

When it comes to my faith.
My Christian Faith.

By the way, the Devil hates liberalism.
Liberalism's compassion and kindness.

In all that I know about Jesus,
He's a liberal.

No wonder the rulers went after him.
No wonder they strung him up.

"See, this is what we think of your liberal ideas."
"We'll have none of it."

Yes, I'm a liberal.
My heart bleeds for folks.

My heart yearns for the Kingdom of God.
"Thy will be done on earth."

I know and believe.
There's no need for hungry children.

There's no need for war.
There's no need to be so afraid.

In matters of faith, I'm a Christian.
And that's why I'm a liberal.

Death and Lent

Lent is a time to
remember the suffering
of Jesus.

Did he shake his head now and then?
That folks could be so mean?
So frightened?

That folks would out-and-out
lie?
And bend and twist to please Rome?

Did he ever wonder if it was
worth it?
Worth the effort?

I think he was afraid at times.
Afraid of failing.
Afraid of what might come.

Death can't win, is the story.
But death ain't no fool.
It has its ways.

For a time, it won.
And the good folks who love death
were proud of themselves.

And rolled a big ol' stone
over the hole in the ground.
Just in case.

Death can never be too sure
about such things.
No chances taken.

Death is like that.
Oh, but Donne said it well.
"Death, be not proud."

Lent Ain't Easy

It's the First Sunday of Lent.
A spring-time season.
Days grow longer.
They lencten.

More light than darkness
To transform the earth.
Hard to break the hold of winter.
To grow up and out some new life.

For me, the strangeness of Lent:
How hard it is for God to make it.
To break the hold of winter in the soul of humankind.
To bring out new life from what death has claimed.

It's not easy for God.
It's hard, terribly hard.
God is great, but not super-God.
Only by cradle, only by cross.

With sweat, blood and tears.
Hunger and thirst.
Weariness of soul and body.
Will the light grow stronger.

Jesus the Trouble Maker

Jesus, the trouble-maker ...

From Mark 2.1-12.

There's quite a crowd gathered to see and hear Jesus - a typical crowd, pressing and shoving, thick and mindless - so that even the paralytic and his friends were unable to push through to Jesus.

The friends were remarkable - unwilling to let anything stand in their way, and so, through the roof they dig, until they can lower their friend into the very middle of the room where Jesus is.

Now here's where the matter becomes interesting ... scribes are there, the guys who know their stuff - the scriptures, the Book of Order, tradition and practice - every jot and tittle well cared for - "it goes this way, not that way; it's up and not down."

Jesus says to the paralytic: "Your sins are forgiven!"

My suspicion: Jesus knew well what was going to rankle the scribes. Would they have been distressed by a healing? Not likely. But to talk about sins and forgiveness - that's a no-no,  because such things require something more elaborate - like temples and lambs and blood and alters and flames and smoke.

This little moment in Mark reveals Jesus pitting himself early on against the religious establishment, and those who consider themselves it's gatekeepers.

He might have whispered words of forgiveness to the man, and no one would have known the difference, and he might have healed the man without taking about sin and forgiveness.

But Jesus knows what's at stake here ... the gatekeepers standing by elaborate gates with carefully guarded keys, heavy and ornate. If there's any paralysis anywhere, this is it - religion unable to move, religion stuck, religion frozen in time, ever-ready to defend itself.

Jesus said just a few words, but Jesus knew well that those few words would arouse immediate suspicion - the watchers of the gate are ever-vigilante for violations, and very quickly, Jesus violated their sensibilities.

While I rejoice in how Jesus tweaked their noses, I wonder: would Jesus tweak my nose! Where are my gates that I guard zealously? what are the keys I hold? where I am stuck and paralyzed? What might Jesus say to me, and I find myself grumbling and uneasy?

Forgiveness

Jesus then reminds the disciples of what is prayed in the LORD’S Prayer ever day, all around the world: If you forgive anyone's sins, they are forgiven; if you don't forgive them, they aren't forgiven.

We cannot mistake the words of Jesus as if he were saying “forgiveness is an option.”

“Will I forgive, or will I not?” - forgiveness is never an option in the Kingdom of God. To forgive is divine; to fail to forgive is death.

Forgiveness IS the story.

Forgiveness IS the life and work of Jesus.

Forgiveness IS the heart and soul of the gospel.

Forgiveness IS the power of peace.

Peace with God.

Peace with one another.

Peace among the nations.

God did not fail in the work of forgiveness.

Forgiveness is not an option for God.

As if God ponders the question:

Shall I forgive them or not?

Shall I release them from their sin, or shall I hold them accountable?

Shall I forget what they’ve done, so that we can all move on from here … or shall I wallow in my hurt and my pain, and constantly throw it in their face?

God doesn’t play games with forgiveness.

And neither must we.

But forgiveness always comes through the cross.

The New Testament is full of the language of the cross … our cross, our crucifixion, our death with Christ.

With Christ, our old instincts of violence and war are crucified, dead and buried.

The spirit of vengeance and grudge-holding that lurks in our heart …

Bitter memories that take up endless time and dominate our emotions … 

We die with Christ on the cross.

So that the old can pass away, and we’re raised up with Christ, with something new at the center of our life, something new to give away, a better way to live and a better way to love.

Resurrection Ahead ...

Dear Friends and Members of Calvary Presbyterian Church,

Because Christ is Risen from the dead, we are, too.

There are many dimensions to resurrection:

1. A personal dimension. In Christ, we have courage to face the many trials that come our way; we have patience in dealing with difficult situations; we extend grace to others who are troubled and sad; we are quick to forgive, even when others can’t apologize; we are quick to offer apologies when we’re wrong; we’re humble about our achievements, because everything is a gift of God, and whatever we have is only for God’s glory and the blessing of others. Our life, here and now, is held in the arms of the everlasting God, and it’s God who tells us to keep our eyes upon Christ and keeps our feet moving in the right direction. Because of Christ, we do not give up!
2. A missional dimension. We reach out with the gospel, and we invite others to look to Christ and join with us in God’s effort to redeem all of creation and lift people out of despair. We join with others of good will and peace all around the world. In God’s wisdom, a world of many languages is the best of all possible world. We send out missionaries to tell others of Christ, and in the telling, we dig water wells, we build hospitals, we help nations fight AIDS, we promote peace and we build bridges of understanding. We cannot and will not look upon others in a way other than seeing everyone as a child of God, whatever their persuasion or faith or color or creed might be. When we look for good will we find it; when we seek peace, we see it; when we offer forgiveness, we are forgiven, when we build up, we are built up, too.
3. A citizenship dimension. In Christ, we are people of peace and reconciliation. We are not impressed with military might or corporate power. We are sensitive to God’s creation, and all God’s creatures, great and small, and we work for a healthier planet. In the Risen Christ, we see God’s love for all the world and for all the nations, and we are careful about over-exuberant flag-waving and sword rattling. In Christ, we are wise about the sins of our own nation, even as we’re humbled by our personal sins. Furthermore, we are citizens of this land and this place, and as Jeremiah counseled the people to seek the welfare of the land in which they were living, so we seek our nation’s welfare, too. Not at the expense of others, but in concert with all of God’s creation. We pay our taxes, serve on juries, pray for our elected and appointed officials, spread good cheer and practice hope.
4. A fellowship dimension. In the triumphant love of Christ, the Holy Spirit builds bridges of love all over the place. We look upon one another through the eyes of Christ, and through our eyes, Christ looks out upon the world. As Paul says, We no longer regard one another from a human point of view … as just so much flesh and blood and bone, but we see one another as God’s precious people, each created in God’s image and endowed with fine gifts. We are pained by the ways religion and society can exclude people. In Christ, our arms are open to all, and all are welcomed at the Table of the LORD. On the local level, right here at Calvary on the Boulevard, we live out the fullness of God’s love by loving one another: we open our homes and hearts to one another, we give and receive our talents, we hold hands in prayer, we hold one another up in sorrow, we walk arm-in-arm in the great work of Jesus Christ.
5. A worship dimension. Our worship is joyful and hopeful. Because God is at work in all things for good. We gather for worship to celebrate the love of God and the world that’s coming our way. It’s a good world, and every prayer we utter, every good deed we offer, every kind word and every positive thought makes a lasting difference. And we’re serious, as well, because sin and oppression are real, and we take these seriously. We do not ignore the dark materials that flow around us and inside of us. We weep with those who weep, and we rejoice with those who rejoice. We confess our sin and the sins of the world and embrace the power of forgiveness.
6. An eternal dimension. Death doesn’t have the last word! Yes, we all must die, because we’re mortal, and “dust to dust” is still the truth about life. But God loves the dust; indeed, God loves all of creation, and God promises a new heaven and a new earth. The end of all things is Christ. A Cosmic Christ, the Creator Christ, the Word of God, in whom all things are being reconciled – when there are no more tears, no more sorrow, no more separation and no more hurt. Only light and peace and goodness and joy. This is where it’s all headed, and by the grace of God, no one is left behind!

 To God be the glory! Christ is risen.