Sermon Blog

Just a reminder that my sermon blog is updating and can be found at

hawleysermons.blogspot.com

thanks. New Blog to come in 2011!

Meditation for World Communion Sunday

Luke 17:5-10

When I first read our Gospel reading this week my first response was, “there has to be something better than this.” After all, it is World Communion Sunday and this is not very Communion like. The temptation was strong to saunter over to the Gospel of John and Jesus words about the true vine, or perhaps simply read from the Last Supper.

But the Lectionary exists for a reason, or reasons, and one of them is to bring out attention to bear on passages of Scripture we would just as soon leave alone. Here Jesus appears to be comparing the disciples to slaves of the master who have no right to claim preference but must, in fact, wait like the family dog to eat last and to acknowledge that all of the hard work and effort is not worthy of praise but, rather, is nothing more than duty. There is no “thank you” here for the all the effort. No “well done, good and faithful servant,” like we read elsewhere. We all like praise and there are not many of us, this side of Mr. Spock, who say “why do you thank me? I merely do my duty.”

This perplexing saying comes at the end of a series of four sayings, only two of which we read this morning. Luke 17:1-10 forms a unit of sayings, the first two have to do with not being the cause of stumbling for new converts to the faith. The second concerns forgiving the penitent. These sayings sufficiently frighten the disciples who believe themselves incapable of living up to this expectation. So they, understandably, ask Jesus to “increase their faith”.

This is something we all tend to do. When confronted with what seems a taunting task, we put the responsibility back on the one presenting the challenge. I remember when Amy Jo and I were considering relocating in 1999. We were reading Church Information Forms. A great many of them would spell out the difficulties and challenges of their current ministries and then they would say, “We need a minister who will motivate us to get to work.” They were saying, as the disciples were saying, “increase our faith.” Children, while in the process of learning to responsible, often do the same thing. When confronted with a task or a home chore, they will respond that the parent has somehow been deficient in the transaction. How can I clean my room when you haven’t….. I can’t take out the trash because the you never brought the bin back from the street.

The disciples say to Jesus, increase our faith. How can we be expected to be responsible to the calling of the Kingdom of God as we are? If you want us to do all these things then you have to make it possible for us. Jesus responds to the disciples in this way: “If you had the faith the size of a mustard seed, you could uproot a tree.” In the Greek language there are two uses of this phrase. One reflects a condition contrary to fact: “If you were a bird”. The other reflects a condition according to fact: If Jesus is Lord. This usage is the second usage. In other words, Jesus says If you have the faith of a mustard seed (and you do)…. The problem, therefore, is not that the disciples lack the necessary faith. The problem seems to be that the disciples do not accept responsibility for the faith that they have and the work they are called to do.

Having said that, it provides some perspective on the last of Jesus’ four sayings here presented. When I first read it I was not sure it was a good choice for World Communion Sunday. It seems a bit nasty. After all, we come to the table because we have been invited by our Lord. And here in this parable the opposite is the case. The slave is not invited first but, rather, must prepare supper for the master and eat later with the family dog. But as with all of Jesus’ sayings, this parable as a specific purpose and it is related to the question of responsibility. Our faith is sufficient—we have our orders—get on with it. In the same manner that we want to deflect responsibility to others, so also we want reward for doing what is basic human responsibility. First we do not want to do what is ask of us. And if we do, we want to be lifted up as special for having done it. Jesus is telling the disciples and us that the Kingdom of God is not going to work that way. What we need we have been given. Faith. Grace. Forgiveness. What we need to do has been shown to us. Take what we have been given, do the work for the kingdom of God and all will be well.

And even though we are invited to this table by our Lord, we are not the first to eat of it. As Jesus asks his disciples in another setting, can you drink from the cup from which I drink? It is because Jesus goes before us that we are able to sit at this table. It is because Jesus is the bread of life and the cup of salvation that this sacrament has meaning. We do come in response to Christ’s invitation—filled with sufficient faith—and having been filled with spiritual nourishment—are returned for our work in the Kingdom of God.

If we have the faith of a mustard seed. We do. Then we can do whatever the Kingdom requires. And we should. And then we eat. Only not as worthless slaves. We come together as children in the family of God.

Transition

Hello Blogging Friends,

I will be starting a new job in November. I have been called to be Lead Pastor/Head of Staff of the First Presbyterian Church in Salina, Kansas.

As such, my time these days is taken up with saying good by to good friends and trying to get a house ready for sale. So I don't imagine I will blog much apart from posting whatever sermons I have left in my current position.

I anticipate starting a blog as part of the church's website in Salina, Kansas. This will happen in November.

If you are interested, you can check out the new church at fpcsalina.org.

Thanks.....

Jim

Buying Hope in a Down Market

Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15

1 Timothy 6:6-19

We have all heard a lot about the economy, the housing market, no jobs. In some cases we have heard more than we want, in other cases we don’t feel enough is being done. But I am sure that the residents of Judah in 588 BCE would say quit your griping. You see, they had bigger problems. The city of Jerusalem was surrounded by a huge army under the command of Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon. And they were breathing fire and had murder in their eyes.

This was not the first time King N had come Judah’s way. After the death of Josiah, one of Judah’s few good kings, Egypt took charge of the region and held Judah as a vassal state. But there was a new bully on the block, and its name was Babylon. When it appeared that Babylon might conquer Egypt, the king of Judah sided with Babylon. The forces of Egypt and Babylon met on the battle field and the result was inconclusive, although both sides suffered heavy losses. Each went home, licking its wounds. In the period of relative calm, Judah tried to reassert its independence. Although Egypt was a worthy foe, Babylon had no regard for Judah’s bit of arrogance and decided to take a victory where it could. So the Babylonian army surrounded Jerusalem, this time dedicated to teach Judah one full and final lesson. No longer satisfied with tribute, Nebuchadnezzar was intent on razing Jerusalem to the ground.

The prophet Jeremiah had seen this coming for a long time. He spent a considerable amount of time in the presence of the king with a simple question: Where is God in all of this? Jeremiah denounced the worldly politics of the monarchy. Why make alliances with Egypt, Babylon, or anyone else? We have made an alliance with God. We are God’s people! Trust and hope in the Lord God! Isaiah had tried the same advice in his day with similar results. No one listened. No one cared. In fact, Jeremiah made such a pest of himself that he was imprisoned. And now his words of wisdom suddenly sounded wiser than before. The armies of Babylon raged, and God was silent. The end had come.

It is at this point that we join our reading for this morning. Jeremiah is in prison, the city is collapsing around him. Here is the chance for him to say, “I told you so!” Here he might derive some satisfaction from circumstances that vindicate his claim that God alone is worthy of loyalty and covenant. But Jeremiah receives a different word from the Lord. The Lord tells him to buy real estate.

It is truly a credit to Jeremiah that he did not go all Job on God and ask what kind of help that was? True, the city was certainly about to become a buyer’s market, but unfortunately there was not going to be anything left to buy. Except land. And the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah that his cousin would be along in a little bit with an offer to let Jeremiah redeem some land, which was his by law to redeem.

Not only does Jeremiah decide to buy the land, but we are told that he made a very public display of it. He had witnesses. Baruch was told to talk it up. The deeds were placed in an earthenware jar—much like the jars in which the Dead Sea Scrolls were found, which tells you something of their capacity to preserve—for the Lord of Hosts says that “houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land.”

That is really quite a proclamation. No wonder most people thought prophets were simply mad. What could be crazier than a man in prison buying a field in a land about to be devastated by the enemy? Clearly Jeremiah is out of his mind, so we might as well dismiss everything else he says at the same time.

But to approach Jeremiah’s action this way is to miss the point of his witness. For Jeremiah was not buying land. He was buying hope. Jeremiah had run out of warnings. The time had passed for action rooted in faith. The fall of Jerusalem was irreversible. The collapse of the temple was inescapable. The time had come for an even more amazing prophecy than the doom of the people. The Word of the Lord was a Word of hope. This calamity, as horrific as it was, would not be the last word.

It was also a way in which Jeremiah could make essentially the same point as the one he tried to make before the siege began. God is not the temple. God is not the King’s palace. God is not the well being of the land and the wealth of the establishment. God is God and we are God’s people. When the buildings are gone, when the wealth is destroyed, when the temple is razed and when the King’s palace is in ruin—God is still God. And the people are still God’s people. This relationship cannot be severed by the enemy. Only our earthly treasures we cling to can be destroyed by the enemy. Our relationship with God is a relationship. When the smoke clears and the enemy withdraws, the relationship will be there still. And land and houses and vineyards will again by bought in the land. This is the nature of Christian hope.

And I say Christian hope because Jeremiah’s understanding is brought into the New Testament through Jesus, Paul, and other New Testament texts. According to the theologians who interpreted the fall of Judah, the calamity was brought on by the failure of the leaders of the land to place the covenant with God above other concerns. These other concerns had much to do with their own acquisition of and display of wealth and power. In order to acquire wealth and power, it was necessary to disregard the needs of many people of the land. For example, the ruling King of Judah at the time of the city’s destruction tore down his father’s palace to big an even bigger one, and he used forced slavery to build it.

The relationship of wealth to God flows throughout the New Testament. Jesus talks about money more than any other subject. James warns the church about placing more concern on placating the rich than caring for the poor. Paul brings the matter up repeatedly, including this passage from 1 Timothy. Its hard to find a more plainly stated example than this: But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. We are hard pressed to find a better summation of our current times than this. But this observation is merely the diagnosis, not the cure. The cure is found in these words: pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness. The implication is clear: pursuit of such things as these will not lead to success by the standards of the material and wealth hungry world. So what success follows such behavior? The blessing of living in right relationship with God, who will provide everything for our enjoyment.

This passage contains one of the most familiar but misquoted verses in the New Testament. Paul writes to Timothy that the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. This observation is commonly misread as "money is the root of all evil". But this is not what Paul says. Paul says the love of money is the root. Money itself is not the problem. Consider how this passage ends. The rich are commanded not to liquidate their assets, but to but them to good use. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous and ready to share. I know of no pastors who do not wish for a church full of generous, sharing, rich people.

Set your hope, Paul says, on God who provides for our needs and not in the uncertainty of riches. Jeremiah was saying the same thing, only with his public real estate transaction rather than with words. The point is the same—true hope is hope in God and of God’s relationship and promises to us, not in the acquisition of money and material wealth.

This is not to say that wealth is evil. It is a question of orientation. Warren Buffet and Bill Gates are the great philanthropists of this generation. Facebook founder Mark Zuckerman gave 100 million dollars to New Jersey Schools. Some believe this was an act to counter the negative impression the recently released movie may create…but I think most teachers around here would not worry about that if they could have education enhanced in this way. And speaking of movies, Gordon Gecko is back on Wall Street. I know very little about the new movie but many of us remember the iconic comment from the Wall Street movie from the 1980s--- Greed is Good. This attitude is alive and well today and responsible for many of the economic hardships of our day.

Hope is not anti-wealth, it is anti-greed. Wealth can be a spiritual gift like any other and, like all spiritual gifts, is meant not for personal gain but for the up-building of the community. After all, you cannot buy houses and land and vineyards with assets. Jeremiah is not advocating homelessness. He is advocating a relationship rooted in God, faithful to God, solely reliant on God. Paul and Jeremiah together are encouraging us to let this hope be the foundation of our future, and to take hold of the life that really is life.

Haiku Wednesday

This week's challenge: Food

Do you hesitate

to reach for the margarine

hidden in the back

behind the ketchup

and something long forgotten

while what used to be

grapes spill like raisins

onto the floor as raindrops

past the orange glow

of an ancient waste

similar to what awaits

in the margarine

which might be rather

a lichened tundra of memory

of Thanksgiving last.

High Achiever

Mr. Jones from Gainesville says,

“We feel that whenever we started this out, one of our reasons was to show, to expose that there is an element of Islam is very dangerous and very radical,” he said. “I feel that we have definitely accomplished that mission.”

I feel Mr. Jones is being unduly modest. He has exposed that there is an element in any religion that is very dangerous and very radical. He has helped illustrate one of my central tenants: Much of what passes for religion is really mental illness.

Why it is Hard to Make Progress

Muslims in this country, and around the world, complain that when they see protesters near ground zero or the dude in Florida they feel "demonized as a people" for the actions of a few.

When I see Muslims in other lands burning flags and holding signs denouncing America, I feel demonized as a people for the actions of a few.

A man in Florida wants to burn a sacred symbol of Islam.

Because they are angry at the man for threatening to burn their sacred symbol , Muslims overseas burn a sacred symbol of America.

Because Timmy pushed Johnny on the playground, Johnny pushed Timmy.

You have heard it said, "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I say do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.

The Power of the Book

Ok... for the moment let's bracket the events in Gainesville. Let's take a step back and a broader question.....

What is it about books?

Mr. Jones is not the first person to ever dream up the idea of burning books. It is an old practice. They used to do it to people, too, although that is a somewhat different question. But I think it is related.

Why burn books? What does book burning represent? And, why are we bothered by book burning?

Ray Bradbury, whose novel Fahrenheit 451 explores the subject, had this reflection on his novel which appeared in the 1987 mass market paperback:

There is more than one way to burn a book. And the world is full of people running about with lit matches. Every minority, be it Baptist / Unitarian, Irish / Italian / Octogenarian / Zen Buddhist / Zionist / Seventh-day Adventist / Women's Lib / Republican / Mattachine / FourSquareGospel feels it has the will, the right, the duty to douse the kerosene, light the fuse….Fire-Captain Beatty, in my novel Fahrenheit 451, described how the books were burned first by the minorities, each ripping a page or a paragraph from this book, then that, until the day came when the books were empty and the minds shut and the library closed forever.

Books contain ideas. And ideas have always been dangerous. But ideas also exist in other forms, other media. The internet is full of ideas. But books are unique in two significant ways.

The are permanent. They embody accountability.

Once something is printed, it is there, in the world. Television programs come and go. Internets sites can be taken down. But books sit on shelves. Ancient writings are still in print. Ancient talk over the fence long since drifted away. But writings stay around. Ideas stay around. And when ideas are committed to print, they might be read. And if they are read, they might provoke thought. And if thought is provoked, who can say where the chaos and anarchy might end?

Not every book can be traced to its author. But, by and large, books and their authors are inseparable. Even Soren Kierkegaard, who utilized a variety of pseudonyms, could not separate his responsibility as creator from the texts he created.

In today’s world of social media and electronic communication, there seems little need for many to associate themselves with the words they produce. Whether this is a good thing is a matter of debate. But a book and its author are known. The writer is responsible for his words. I still believe that is a good thing.

So what about burning? The number of books, and the historical periods in which they were burned, are too many to mention. Perhaps at root is the perennial reality of human fear. Fear on what is different. Fear of change. Those in power fear the challenge to power. Those whose world view is carefully and fearfully constructed are afraid of learning or ideas that challenge the world view. If we destroy the idea, it does not exist. If we destroy the one who brought the idea, it does not exist. Ultimately it is about control. We desire to control that which we cannot control. But we can burn or destroy that which represents what we cannot control. And so we do. We censor, burn, destroy, execute.

But the book is not the idea---or the reality. The book only points toward the reality. They might have burned Galileo but that would not have made him wrong. You can burn Das Kapital but that does not make Marx’s observations less cogent. You can burn To Kill a Mockingbird but that doesn’t remove racism.

I understand why Muslims are offended at the burning of the Koran. I know why Christians would be upset if Bibles were burned. Many people are disturbed when flags and other symbols are burned.

But a book is just a book. A symbol is just a symbol. What the book and the symbol point to cannot be burned, executed, or destroyed. Ideas are immortal, even if the earthly body in which they live is destroyed.

While on the Subject

of science and religion.... here is another piece on the subject

A Sympathetic View of Beck

I have posted an article or two of skepticism surrounding Glenn Beck's recent march on Washington. So in fairness I want to draw your attention to a sympathetic piece written by Taylor Branch for the New York Times. Branch is a Pulitzer Prize winner for his three volume history of the civil rights era.

You can link the article here.

Stephen Hawkings' Amazing Revelation

Physicist Stephen Hawking has a new book. According to press reports Hawking answers the definitive question--- GOD IS NOT NECESSARY FOR THE CREATION OF THE UNIVERSE!!!!

Oh dear, what shall we do? All is lost!!! Centuries of writing on science and religion--- centuries of religious faith--- all gone, all wasted.

Because Stephen Hawking says God is not necessary.

Seriously, if this is what sells books I should have thought of that long ago. Of course God is not NECESSARY to understand the universe and its origins. You think Hawking is the first physicist to ever state that the Big Bang is simply the inevitable result of the laws of physics? I know of a certain Cosmology textbook in which the first chapter pretty much differentiates between religious "myth" and science. And it is also available on Amazon! (But it is WAY more expensive)

However, just because Hawking (or anyone else) says God was not necessary for the creation of the universe, this does not mean they are right. The word "necessary" implies an either/or which is not called for. Perhaps, as faith would have it, God is at the heart of the creation of the universe. Perhaps not. But necessary? This sounds like a marketing word. But there is a more important point here. This rhetoric (I have not read his book so do not know all of what Hawking says) diverts us from what I think is a more significant matter. Creation is not an either/or with God and science. We need to be clear as to what "creation" we are talking about.

The Bible does attribute creative powers to God. Beyond the obvious Genesis references, the prophets, such as Isaiah, invoked God's universe creating persona as a way of inducing the people to return to the covenant. After the exiles in Babylon grew accustomed to their new life, the prophetic wing of the faith felt obliged to remind them that, of all the gods at their disposal, only one was capable of creating the heavens and the earth. But this was not a matter of physics, it was a matter of pre-eminance. This claim that God is the Creating God was to differentiate Yahweh from any number of social and cultural gods which vied for the attention of the people. This was a matter of idolatry, not of physics.

Did Jesus ever wonder why he did not just float out into space? Surely an apple fell on his head at least once. Why did that not lead him to think about gravity centuries before Isaac Newton? Perhaps because his attention was diverted by the question of why religious leaders where exploiting the people for their own sakes? He seemed more interested in why people were captive to injustice and disease than why they were captive to gravity. When asked what the greatest of the laws was, Jesus did not respond with the laws of physics. He responded with the laws of ethics. To love one's neighbor as oneself.

In the beginning was the Word. All things were created through the Word. So says the Gospel of John. Now we could spend a lot of time parsing the word Word--its LOGOS origins-- but it is sufficient to say that the Word is, well, the Word. In the beginning was the Word--language, thought, idea. And all things are created through Word. Cat becomes Cat by naming it Cat. Tree becomes Tree by naming it Tree. Language builds and creates world. This is good insofar as we can tell the difference between and cat and a dog. It is bad when language creates a world that is racist, hateful, unjust. If you don't believe that language can create world than you haven't been paying attention to political advertisements, 24/7 cable news and right wing talk radio.

Christianity is a faith rooted in the world creation of the Word. And the Word is not a physical principle, a first cause, or a big bang. The Word is a man--Jesus Christ--who came not to argue with Stephen Hawking but to dwell among us with grace and truth and to witness the love for the Cosmos that God intends. I feel God is necessary for such world creation as this. For the world we inhabit is a world that is created in and around our perception of it, the language we use to describe it, and the communication we use to relate to it and each other. If that is to be a world of mutual love and justice--God is, indeed, necessary.

All of which has nothing to do with the Big Bang.

Wednesday Haiku- Secrets

I have been out of the loop for a bit on the Haikus.... but here is an effort based upon today's theme.... secrets. This event sponsored by youknowthatblog.com.


Quiet....come closer
bend your knee and lend your ear
I have a secret

It is worse than that
There is no gain in guessing
Do not draw your breath

your eyes dialate
Good! They need to claim the light
Hold on to hope's thread

and strike a balance
as my words like coal darken
what's left of your dreams

The secret? Ah, yes,
I nearly forgot to share
but now it is late

And the secret waits
nocturnal instinct aroused
behind every bush

Five Guidelines to Rational Thinking

I was going through a box of old papers and memoribilia from my father's past when I came across a small card, upon which were typed Five Guidelines to Rational Thinking. I have no idea of thier origin, or why specifically my father kept this card. I do not know if they are his guidelines or borrowed from another. In any event, I post them here for whatever value they may have. After all, anything that promotes us to better rational thinking is ok in my book.

1. Is this thought based on objective reality?

2. Does this thought help me to protect my life?

3. Does this thought help me to reach my short and long-term goals?

4. Does this thought prevent significant conflict with others?

5. Does this thought help me to feel the way I want to feel?


Incidentally... I have gone over 5000 page views since I started earlier this year. Don't know what that means, exactly, but it sounds significant.

The Individual or the Crowd?

A well put piece from Stanley Fish in today's NYT.

Click Here.

How Not to Make an Argument

For a few semesters I taught college freshman composition. I was not entirely well suited to the job, but I did take a certain pride in promoting something important to me--the necessity of critical thinking, discerning intellectual distinctions, and of making a credible argument.

Conservative commentator Cal Thomas offers us an example of how not to do this. Thomas writes on Foxnews.com that the civil rights movement was "hijacked" by sources other than Glenn Beck. Yet after making the unsupported claim that "liberal Democrats keep African-American children locked up in underperforming schools", Thomas provides a vague list of social ills afflicting African Americans. He then follows with a sweeping generalization concerning what "Conservatives" support and what "Liberals" support. Finally, without any reference to the above, Thomas blames Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and Eleanor Holmes Norton for hijacking the civil rights movement.

Keep hope alive! Thomas cries, ending his piece.

It is hard to keep hope alive when this sort of thing passes for
a. Thoughtful
b. Informed
c. Critical (in the best use of the term)

It is an interesting question, however, as to who gets to define things. The power to define has long been associated with the ruling class. Martin Luther King and his followers claimed the right to define Black experience in America. This definition was at odds, obviously, with the position of the privleged white majority. Today my question surrounding the Glenn Beck controversy is--who is allowed to define "civil rights movement"? Does the definition change over time? Critics of Beck claim that he is taking a movement which was defined by Black experience and twisting it into a label white, tea party conservatives. How fluent are the definitions and to what degree does history matter in this debate?

In any event, we need to do better than Cal Thomas.

Arson and Civil Rights

I am sorry to bring this up again. The irony cannot be ignored.

USA Today reports that Federal officials are investigating as arson a fire at a mosque in Tennessee. This is reminiscent of the arson targeting Black churches in the south in the time of Martin Luther King, Jr.

And one of the loudest voices against Islam.... one of the loudest voices fanning the flames (pun intended) of discrimination against Muslims.....one of the loudest voices on a network of loud voices heaping daily innuendo on mosques as being nothing more than terrorist cells.....

That voice.... Glenn Beck.... Sarah Palin.... stood where Martin Luther King, Jr. stood (down slightly) talking about reclaiming America for God.

And in the afterglow of such warm, religious sentiment.... someone who no doubt loves Fox News and Glenn Beck... tried to burn down a Mosque.

Overheard At Rev. Beck's Religious Revival

Becky Benson, 56, traveled from Orlando, Fla., because, she said, “we believe in Jesus Christ, and he is our savior.” Jesus, she said, would not have agreed with what she called the redistribution of wealth in the form of the economic stimulus package, bank bailouts and welfare. “You cannot sit and expect someone to hand out to you,” she said. “You don’t spend your way out of debt.” (NYT)

"When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your kinsmen or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just" Jesus- Luke 14

On the Dangers of Giving Bibles to Children

Luke 14: 1, 7-14

It is the sacred calling of the preacher to crack the hard shell of Scripture so that the people may feast upon its meat.

Well, maybe that is not quite the way to put it. But it is true that the preacher’s primary job is to open up texts from scripture for the congregation. The preacher is to make the Bible “relevant” or “applicable” to the flock. But in so doing the preacher seldom talks about the Bible itself. The Bible as an object of study seems more appropriate to—well, Bible study. Rather, we hear short snippets from one or more of the Bible’s sixty-six books each Sunday. The end result is much like attempting to understand a quilt but looking each week at one of the squares. If we have a good memory we can get an idea of what the whole might look like. Otherwise we simply admire a given square.

Today we shall depart from this model, somewhat, and spend some time thinking about the Bible as a whole. More specifically, we will reflect on how the Scripture plays an important role in Scripture itself, and how we might understand the role of Scripture in our faith lives. And the occasion for this scrutiny is the presentation of Bibles to our third-graders. Now these are real Bibles we are handing out. These are not Children’s Bibles or abridged New Testaments. This is the whole Word, the whole nut, if you like. And if you are going to hand the whole nut to third-graders, you had better be ready with a nut-cracker. Or, to be less metaphoric, if we are going to give Bibles to children we had best be prepared to help them understand it.

I am reminded of the story in Acts where Phillip comes across an Ethiopian reading the prophet Isaiah. He is reading this passage—“As a sheep led to the slaughter of a lamb before its shearer is dumb, so he opens is mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him.” Phillip wants to know if the Ethiopian understands what he is reading. “How can I," he replies, "without someone to help me?”

And this is the position our children are in. How can they understand what they are reading without someone to help them? And guess who that someone is? It is you—parents, grandparents, LOGOS teachers, adult guardians of our children’s spiritual life. And yes, the pastors. But the statement, “ask the pastors that question” is not a good long-term solution, and it sends the message that only “religious professionals” interpret the Bible. This is an idea the reformers fought against.

Because that used to be the way it was. In the days before the Protestant Reformation the Church controlled the Scriptures. The language of scripture was Latin which the average Christian could not read. Because the average Christian good not read the Bible, the Church told them what the Bible said---selectively, of course. Before the Reformation there were those who wanted the Bible released from captivity—translated to common languages and read by many. But the Church resisted this demand. The parallel occurrence of the Protestant Reformation and the invention of the printing press eventually put the Bible in the hands of people. But still there was a problem. The people could read it, but what did it mean?

So here is our conundrum. The Bible should be read by everyone, but the Bible is not easy to understand. So we need religious professionals—theologians, Bible Scholars, educated pastors—to help us understand. But these people, helpful though they are, should not decide for us. So in the end the reading and understanding of Scripture is a collaborative effort, a communal effort. It is enhanced by those educated in the ways of interpretation. It is enhanced by the freshness and honesty brought to the text by the practicing Christian.

So today we welcome these third-graders to the community of Bible readers. It is a new adventure for them. But it is a serious matter, giving Bibles to children. Because they might actually read it. And as they grow in the faith, as they gain more and more life experience, as they thoughtfully apply the Scripture to their lives, amazing things might start to happen. This is what happened to Jesus, according to Luke’s story.

Luke tells us that Jesus started his bible study as a young man. Not as a third-grader, more of a middle-schooler. But there he was, in the temple, at age 12, engaged in a give and take with the teachers who were very impressed by him.

The next thing Luke tells us is that the 12 year old Jesus has grown into a 30 year old Jesus and he is back in the Synagogue, only this time in his home town of Nazareth. Jesus reads the prophet Isaiah to the gathering and they are pleased with him. But then Jesus goes on to talk of another part of Scripture—the story from the book of Kings when the prophets of Israel bring their curative power to people outside of Israel. This so enrages the people that they attempt to throw Jesus off the cliff. I hope, when our third graders come back in twenty years with their biblical insights we give them a warmer reception. But the point is this: when we become immersed in the Bible we discover that a lot of people who say they are Bible people really don’t have any idea what is in it—or simply have chosen to ignore a vast amount of what is in it. This tends to lead to uncomfortable situations.

Like in today’s text. Jesus is invited to eat at the home of the leader of the Pharisees. Now the Pharisees were experts in the law. They knew their Scripture. And how much more so should a leader of the Pharisees know the Scripture. So Jesus is startled, perhaps (then again, probably not as this is not his first Pharisee dinner) to see everyone jockeying for the places of honor at the dinner. The advice that Jesus gives is not simply practical, it is Scripture. Proverbs 25. “Do not put yourself forward in the king’s presence or stand in the place that is great; for it is better to be told, “Come up here,” than to be put lower in the presence of the prince.”

So Jesus is not simply suggesting a way to avoid embarrassment. Jesus is confronting the religious leaders with their own Scripture, the command to be humble and not seek honor for oneself. And then Jesus tells them another parable, this one about inviting the poor and the lame, the blind and the crippled. This, too, is a summary of Scripture. It is, in fact, similar to the scripture that Jesus read to the home folks that nearly go him killed. For Isaiah says that the good news is to be preached to the poor, the blind, those who are oppressed. Jesus is reminding the Pharisees, again, of what their Scriptures teach. You see, Jesus was not irritating because he had all these radical new ideas, he was irritating because he confronting the privileged with their own Scripture, with the Bible they claimed to know, follow and protect.

Not that the Pharisees gave in easily—or at all. They had a pretty good idea themselves what Scripture was about. Much like the people back in Jesus’ home church who presumed to know more about the Bible then Jesus did. And today we find the same debates, the same competing claims. Whether or not the Pharisees were correct in their interpretations, they possessed the power to enforce them. Which is why Jesus was crucified. But Jesus was also raised from the dead by the glory and power of God. So if we are deadlocked between Jesus’ understanding of the Bible and the Pharisees' understanding of the Bible, I would say the resurrection is a tie-breaker.

What is more, if we help our children with their Bible discoveries we may find we are discovering things for ourselves. And that can be very helpful when the conversation turns to what is "Christian" and not "Christian" in our media. If we have a Bible, but do not read our Bible, then we are likely to be convinced by whomever speaks the firmest, or whose other viewpoints we like. Without our own immersion in Scripture, how can we tell the phonies from the real thing?

Yes, it can be dangerous to give Bibles to children. They might read it. What is more, as they come to understand it, in its marvelous mosaic, they will be shaped by it. They might be inspired to ask a lot of questions about it, make it the center piece of their lives. Then they might grow up in the Spirit of the Lord and become preachers. And what if those third graders, now all grown up, came back with the Good News of the Gospel—good news for the poor, the lame, the crippled, the socially disadvantaged. What if those young kids grew up to become leaders in communities fighting for social justice, and equality, and love and fairness and all those things which today compete with the powers that be who defend the status quo? Would we, who gave them this Bible in the first place, listen to them?

Yes, giving Bibles to children is a dangerous thing. But it is also a hopeful thing, an exciting thing, a faithful thing. But do not leave them to go it alone. Go with them. Read it to them and with them. Read it on your own. Don't settle for Bible-Believing. Be Bible knowledgeable.

Ground Zero Beck

As I sit here contemplating our world, it occurs to me that Glenn Beck's decision to host his rally on the anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr's I have a dream speech is eerily similar to the debate around the "ground zero" muslim community center. The difference, though, is that this serves Beck's purpose, the other does not.

The primary objection, as I understand it, to the community center is that it is disrespectful of what ground zero means to those who were impacted by those events. Yet Beck shows no reluctance to claim not merely proximate space, but the exact space, and date, of an event crucial to the hearts of civil rights activists and those who have suffered at the hands of white racism.

All of this does nothing more than to reinforce my despair that there is no honesty, no integrity, no surrender to truth, left in our culture.

The cross is left to confront the will to power.

More stream of consciousness. The issue for me is not whether Beck has a right to do what he is doing. Bit such a right has to be universally applied.

But Beck and his kind are not real people. They are characters acting in the theater of the real. They are reality television and so many are cast against their will as props for the political and monetary gain of this theater of the real (absurd).

An Opinion Worth Reading

Related to my post about the community center in New York....

One of my real peeves about this and other issues is the absolute disregard for the truth. It is one thing to disagree about how we relate to the truth, but it is something else just to make stuff up to serve one's purpose.

So here is a good piece along those lines. Click here.

On the Mosque and Rising Suns

Given that this blog's purpose concerns the relationship between religion and culture, it would seem I should have something to say about the controversy in New York. But I do not know what to say. Suppose a segment of the population decided to protest the notion that the sun rises in the east. What shall we say? Look east in the morning? Look west in the evening? And if they persisted, claiming that the "claim" that the sun rises in the east is nothing more than mere "appearance", a clever trick or manipulation of those with sinister intent, what then shall we say?

That the protest in New York is irrational, that the sentiments expressed against the community center, against Islam, against the "Other" are ill-conceived, seems to me so self-evident there is no need to express it here. Besides, from the Daily Show to Frank Rich in the NYT, the flaws of the protests logic and approach seem to have been laid sufficiently bare.

And those who prefer their news a little, shall we say, foxier, how can we communicate? For what is at issue here is not a question of foreign policy or economic theory. There are certanly issues around which conservatives and liberals can disagree with integrity and intelligence. This issue is not one of them. What is at issue here is the demonization of a people through loose guilt by association and ludicrous cause and effect. This is power playing emotion to the worst effect. I just wish I could think of something new to say about it.

I guess what troubles me the most about this issue, and why my brain tends to lock up when I think about it, is that I am trained as both a theologian and a journalist. So I see offense on every front. The coverage of the "story" is irresponsible by the right and the attitude toward Islam and the raging ignorance displayed concerning religion, culture, and history is staggering.

How do you argue with someone who says the sun rises in the west?

Or as Schiller has one of his characters exclaim, "Against stupidity, the gods themselves contend in vain."

Those Possessed by Devils Try To Keep Them Under Control

So said Reg, follower and presumed head disciple of the followers of Brian, Messiah. Or so it seems in one scene from Monty Python's "Life of Brian". Completely against his will, Brian has attracted both followers and a reputation and he is now being touted as "The Savior". As Brian makes his way through a crowd, seemingly oblivious to those around him, many cry out for healing and for him to touch them. But Reg is there for crowd control. "Don't push that baby in the Savior's face," he scolds, "he'll touch him later." "Women taken in sin line up against that wall." And, of course, the above mentioned.

I am thinking of this as I look at the Gospel reading assigned for tomorrow in the Lectionary. It is the story of Jesus healing a woman who was bent and crippled for 18 years. She appeared at the synagogue on the Sabbath as Jesus was teaching. When Jesus sees her, he interrupts his teaching to proclaim that she is set free from her ailment. Predictably this upsets the Pharisees who object to Jesus healing on the Sabbath. But this story has a twist, one that brought to mind the above scene from the movie. The Pharisees, a la Reg, say to the crowd, "There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured."

Now this is an interesting idea. What are we to assume? Shall we assume that this woman simply did not know that cures were available six days a week? Or shall we assume that had she come on another day, she would not have been cured, as there would be no one there to cure her? One could argue that only Jesus could cure and this was the day he was in town. But what seems more likely is that the Pharisees, in a well practiced art still practiced today, used the letter of the law to weasel out of responsibility. If we grant that it is wrong to cure on the Sabbath, and if we also grant that healing is permissible six days out of the week, then why are not more people cured?

The answer is, it seems from the text, the Pharisees had no interest in that activity. But rather than owning that small detail, they preferred instead to take their moral high road and defend the sanctity of the Sabbath.

Jesus has none of it. He never has any of it from the Pharisees. Jesus points out that the Sabbath was made for human beings. The Pharisees themselves feed their beasts of burden on the Sabbath. Shall not a child of Abraham also be set free on any day, including the Sabbath?

And, of course, this whole scene would have been unnecessary if the Pharisees had been interested in a curing ministry. Had they been so interested, then the Pharisees, this woman, and Jesus could have enjoyed a nice quiet Sabbath.

Drawing a Crowd

The Huffington Post reports a Gainesville, Florida "church"'s intention to burn Qurans. Obviously such bigotry is nothing new. But I am thinking about this in terms of crowds. Who will show up?

Mainline churches like mine have chronic and understandable anxiety concerning the available seating space left on Sunday mornings. Sports, sleep, camping, vacations, whatever.... there are a dozen or more reasons why the flock flees on the weekend leaving ample room for visitors.

This anxiety concerning attendance manifests itself in a variety of ways.... envy of the churches with larger crowds, the need to change the worship to accommodate the perceived desires of those not in attendance, different music, screens and visuals, practically anything....

Even burning Qurans? Or how about the church in Kentucky which held a worship service where all of those in attendance were asked to bring their firearms to celebrate the second amendment? Over 200 people showed up for that one. There are many ways to generate a crowd, if a crowd is what you want. But is a crowd want we want?

Sure... but the "crowd" cannot be the point--big or little. It is the proclamation of the Gospel that should be paramount--a Gospel inclusive of Jesus' witness to the Kingdom of God and its righteousness. Jesus' embodiment of the Old Testament prophetic tradition. The crowd I want includes anyone who yearns to understand and participate in the kingdom of God. Anyone who brings a heart of love to a community of inspired inquiry. So the next time you feel anxious about "why people aren't in church?", shift the question to this--"Is this church witnessing to the inclusive love of Jesus Christ?" If you believe that it is, relax. God asks for faithfulness, not market share.

Burning Qurans does not seem to qualify. Nor celebrating firearms. Nor does preaching that God created the heavens and the earth to provide financial prosperity to Americans on a quid quo pro basis. I don't care how many are there with torches, weapons, and portfolios.

Here is something interesting.....

Rene Descartes skull......

The New York Times Room for Debate (here) concerns philosophy's relationship to other disciplines. Is Philosophy a discipline in isolation? Or is it inseparably related to other disciplines such as psychology?

I think this question applies not only to theology but to the church. Is the church a place containing a closed system of doctrine and truth apprehended by the initiated? Or is it a place of open encounter with the myriad of human disciplines and knowledge for the sake of understanding the human condition? Because it is theological the task becomes more understanding the human condition in light of the prior reality of faith in a creative, incarnate God. The Bible--- the literary witness to these questions-- is the focal point for the conversation.

Clearly I tend to lean toward the second understanding of the church. I think that kind of church serves existential human need and social welfare the best. What do you think? What do you think of the opinions in the NYT article regardless of theological implications? What is your favorite color?

Meditation for Rev. Dr. Bernard Hawley

My father died on July 19, 2010. I have been away from the blog since that time attending to various duties, among which was my father's memorial service at the First Presbyterian Church in Salina, Kansas. My father was the Senior Minister of that congregation from 1965 - 1987. The following is the meditation I offered at that service. I hope to get back to blogging--- maybe after school starts?

Romans 8:31-39; 1 Corinthians 15:51-57; Luke 13:10-17


It is hard to know where to start when talking about my father’s life. It is impossible to know where to end. I should start by acknowledging that he probably does not want me to talk about him at all—at least not much—given that this is a worship service. Ours is a Witness to the Resurrection and our attention is properly directed toward the worship of—and thanksgiving to—God.

And we will do that—we are doing that. But we also acknowledge that we are in a sacred space where, for twenty-two years, my father brought a word of grace to those who gathered. Here the young and old were baptized, the bread broken and the cup shared, the hopeful married, the forgiven mourned and remembered. Here through the succession of years the palms turned to ashes and back to palms again. The greens were hung, the Spirit of Pentecost blew anew and the voices of song and prayer reached up to heaven. And through all of that time my father made a tremendous difference in the lives of those who passed through this sanctuary—those who lived in this community—those who are part of our nation. I admit that I am not a neutral observer. But by any standard of excellence there can be no question that we have a tremendous amount to be grateful for in the life of Bernie Hawley and it is our sadness but also our privilege and joy to express that gratitude this afternoon.

I have had what many do not have on such occasions as this—almost three weeks to reflect upon what I would say in the brief period available this afternoon. Time, in this case, is both curse and blessing. It is a blessing to be able to spend so much time remembering, talking with family and friends, organizing one’s memories. It is a curse as well, for all of this remembering and talking and organizing leads to an overwhelming amount of material, of directions, of vectors, if you will. So choices had to be made, and I have chosen to talk of two things which I believe best illustrate my father in his vocational life and as a family man. These two things are the humanity of the Gospel and the centrality of mystery.

What do I mean by the humanity of the Gospel? Our reading from Luke is meant to be illustrative. Throughout the Gospel narratives Jesus and the Pharisees spar over scriptural interpretation. Jesus champions the cause of the socially despised, the sick and infirmed, the politically and religiously oppressed, in the name of the Kingdom of God. The Scribes and the Pharisees defend the Torah as they interpret it with an emphasis on purity and ritual sacrifice. But Jesus smelled something fishy. And in this encounter—one of many really—Jesus brings the problem to the surface. The law is valuable, but its purpose has been subjugated by the Pharisees to their own specific interests and advantage. As Jesus says elsewhere, the Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath. When confronted with human need, with an evident need for human liberation, there was nothing in the law to forbid it. Only the human heart stands between this woman and liberation. Will that heart be hard or that heart be turned? The hardened hearts of the Pharisees had turned—they had turned “right religion” into a tool of oppression which Jesus fought at every turn. In Jesus we see the humanity of the Gospel. Human beings—their needs, their sorrows, their fears, their hopes, their welfare—are at the heart of Jesus’ message. Jesus’ message concerned the new reality he called the Kingdom of God. This is grace, and grace is what my father was all about.

In every sermon there came a moment when my father’s words reached out to speak to the existential condition of his congregation. He taught us how to worry wisely, how to let go of the second sock, how to forgive and be forgiven, how to grieve and by thankful. He emphasized the gift of freedom that was inherent to the Gospel. He encouraged us to be good stewards of God’s creation as well as good stewards of ourselves. And each at every turn he preached a word of grace, for grace is the beginning and the end of our relationship with God. The real needs of people are first, even when the people are not always "just like us."

In January, 1986, the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded a little more than one minute into its flight. In the days that followed there was much national mourning. A national memorial service was scheduled and my father was invited to offer prayer. The Challenger’s crew was not only ecumenical—a Baptist, an Episcopalian, a Methodist—it was also inter-faith. So the families in attendance represented various traditions of Christianity as well as Buddhism and Judaism. It is not easy to craft a prayer that was sensitive and inclusive of these traditions and at the same time said something of comfort that could be universally understood. But my father managed it. This is how his prayer began.


O thou Whom we call by various names, approach by several paths, and yet all acknowledge as the Source of Life, Thy greatness is seen in this vast and wondrous universe. We turn now to Thee because we need the assurance of a love that is equally great and wondrous, to feel that underneath are the Everlasting Arms and to know that the hand that holds us is a hand we trust.



When my father returned to Salina he discovered that, among the many responses of appreciation, there were a few Pharisees who grumbled with indignation that, when given such a national stage, my father threw Jesus under the bus. Where was the evangelical moment, they demanded. Where was the Christian emphasis? Why did he shirk in his duties to confront those gathered with the universal particularity of Jesus Christ? But, of course, Jesus was there. He was there in the form of a man who understood that the Sabbath was made for human beings and not human beings for the Sabbath. He was there in the form of a man who understood that healing was needed regardless of the day or the hour or the religion. Dad truly believed that to be Christian was not so much to talk about Jesus so much as to be Jesus as much as it was possible. The message of Christianity was not merely the message that was Jesus but also the message that Jesus brought which was developed and adapted by Paul in the middle of the first century and remembered and recorded by the evangelists by that century’s end. A message powerfully encapsulated with these resounding words from Romans: For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

My father spent his ministry in service to the humanity of Jesus Christ. The Gospels make in abundantly clear that love was at the heart of the Kingdom, and that God so loved the world that he sent his only Son, not to condemn the world, but so that the world—the Cosmos in the Greek text—would be saved.

Paul wrote to the Romans that neither death nor life would be able to separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ. This was comforting, no doubt, but perhaps, for some, hard to believe. So Paul also wrote, albeit to a different church, “Behold, I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” Although practicing the practical application of ministry with people, my father never lost sight of the mystery which both called him into service and sustained him throughout. Scripture is full of mysteries, both large and small, not the least of which is the mystery embedded in the universe God created that is so rich and vast we will never finally exhaust these mysteries it contains. And there is the greatest Christian mystery of all: that in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.

My father did not consider mystery the enemy of Christian faith. It was an element of faith. In 1Timothy we read “great is the mystery of our faith”, and it is true. Appreciation for and wonder of such mysteries are surely one of the things I share in common with my sister and brothers.
I have spent the greater part of my life with the following dialogue. “What do your siblings do?” I respond that they are highly decorated scientists—one a professor of chemistry interested in molecular biology, another a former NASA astronaut who now teaches Astronomy and a brother who has written a college textbook on cosmology which is now in a second printing. “Oh,” comes the reply, “so what happened to you?” This does not bother me—anymore. Clearly in my case the apple did not fall far from the tree. I, like my father, dabbled in radio before entering the ministry. I, like my father, and his father before him, have an interest in history and literature and the arts which are true compliments of a Reformed Theological understanding of the world. But there are those who look to my siblings—these highly decorated scientists—and wonder, "Why would they pursue science if their father was a preacher?"

To ask this question is to misunderstand many things, but clearly it is to not understand the centrality of mystery. If faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen, then the things hoped for and the things not seen are the things of mystery. And the ultimate mystery, the mystery at the heart of my father’s theology, is the Incarnation, which winds its way through his sermons like a meandering river. The American writer Flannery O’Connor said it well. The Incarnation is the concrete expression of mystery—mystery that is lived. My father was concerned with mystery as it is incarnate in human life.

And we all should be so concerned, each in our own way. As to me and my siblings, we are so concerned because our father taught us to be this way. Our home was filled with encouragement to explore, to uncover, to discover. Our parents encouraged us at every turn to try everything, learn everything, and question everything. That my siblings are scientists is, to me, not surprising at all. All of us live with and pursue mystery—not for the purposes of its capture and incarceration—but for the excitement of the discovery, tentative as those discoveries may be. And the motive behind the search is the benefit to humanity, for knowledge is always a benefit, and mystery its own reward.

Krista Tippett hosts “Speaking of Faith” on National Public Radio and has recently published a book based upon interviews conducted with a variety of scientists with the work of Albert Einstein as the common thread. Her book is entitled Einstein’s God, and in the preface, Tippett offers a quotation from Einstein with which my father would have resonated: A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, of the manifestations of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty—it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute the truly religious attitude…enough for me is the mystery of the eternity of life, and the inkling of the marvelous structure of reality. Einstein was by no means a Christian. And to be certain my father was. He believed mystery had a name—and that name was Jesus Christ, the Incarnation of the Word of God. But my father would have agreed with Einstein that there is an appropriate attitude to maintain when speaking of such lofty things, an attitude toward this mystery which is so important—however we name the mystery. It is an attitude of humility and hope, a commitment to know what we know and claim no more, to always seek to learn more, and to apply what we learn to the improvement of human life.

One branch of Christian theology is known as apologetics. Apologetics is interested in conversation, in dialogue, in finding the common ground with philosophy, science, and culture, for the purposes of establishing Christianity’s legitimate place. My father considered himself an apologist for the Christian faith, much after the example of Paul as recorded in the Book of Acts. Paul visited Athens and, after examining the cultural evidence of religious practice, including the altar to the unknown god, Paul addressed the Athenians. "People of Athens! I can see you are very religious people. What you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth...In him we live, and move, and have our being." My father proclaimed this God to both the confidently faithful and to those who could only sense the unknown god. He desired to meet people where they were, honor what they knew, and expand their horizons with the possibility of the grace of God and the mystery of redemption.

My time is nearly up and I know there is much I have left unsaid. No life, my father’s or anyone else’s can be reduced to a twenty minute meditation. For this reason receptions were invented so that the conversation could continue. I will make two more observations. Near the end of his life my father was despondent. His Parkinson’s was cruel. His memory was fading like a balloon let loose into a deep blue sky. He was not afraid to die. He had no reason to be afraid to die, although he did confess that he wasn’t quite sure what the arrangement was on the other side. But that was fine. My father believed that death was letting go into the hands of the God who loved him in his life. Why would the God who loved him in his life not love him in his death? But he did have one request. He wanted to be appointed guardian angel to his two grandchildren. That this has happened I have no doubt. No one, and I mean no one, was better qualified for the job.

And, finally, these words. Not mine, his. This is how he concluded his sermon to this congregation from this pulpit on February 2, 1986, with reference to the Challenger’s tragic end. They seem appropriate to this day, appropriate to him, and his text that day was the same Romans passage we heard today.


But we do weep, for mourn we must; but let us also rejoice in the human spirit that chooses the zest of the unknown, to advance human knowledge, to brave the universe. Let us rejoice in the One whose grandeur and whose power we cannot comprehend, but whose love and care we can never escape. Even the sea of space is but the hollow of His hand, and nothing can snatch us from it ever.

Amen. And amen.


Let us pray:
Gracious and ever-loving God. We give you thanks for the life of Bernie Hawley. We thank you for his commitment to human good. We thank you for his embracing of mystery and of handing on to us such awe and wonder. We thank you that pain and loss are no more for him, that every tear is wiped away, and that he has entered into the rest which you have prepared for him and for all whom you name as your own. All of this we pray through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Question Within the Question- A Sermon

The Question Within the Question
Rev. James Hawley 7/25/2010

Luke 11:1-13

Which of you, when asked one question, listen for another?

It happens often with children. They ask many questions, questions like “what happens when a meteor comes through the roof?” Or, “If an alligator came into the dining room could we keep it?” Or maybe they wonder what happens if the sun fails to rise one day or how far it is to McCook if you have to walk. Whatever the case may be, often we are asked questions that have answers, but the answer is not really the point. The alligator question might just be natural curiosity, or it may reflect a yearning for a pet of some kind. The meteor question is easy to answer, but the real issue may be a sense of insecurity around the forces of nature. The question about McCook may have something to do with the loud crash you heard a short time ago. Whatever it is, however, the immediate question is seldom at the heart of the matter. What is really at issue is the question within the question.

The disciples watched Jesus pray. Watching Jesus pray must be like watching Phil Mickelson play golf or Arthur Rubinstein play the piano. The Carly Simon song comes to mind. Nobody Does it Better. So the disciples are understandably in awe of Jesus and his relationship with God. The text does not tell us—was Jesus praying aloud? If so, were the disciples in earshot? Or was he in silent prayer? An interesting question, I think, which the scripture does not answer. But the fact that the disciples then asked Jesus to “teach them to pray” as John taught his disciples suggests that they were not able simply to mimic Jesus’ prayers. They wanted lessons. Advice. And Jesus answers their request directly.

The “Lord’s Prayer”, as tradition has termed it, can be found in two places in the Bible. Here and as part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew. The text is different in each of these places and neither is the text that we commonly recite in church. Matthew is the closest, in the Revised Standard Version, but it lacks the doxology—“for Thine is the Kingdom and the Power of the Glory forever.” Luke’s version is a bit more spare.

There are essentially five petitions in Luke’s version of the Lord’s Prayer and, in keeping with Luke’s interest in linking both the former and the newer covenants together, the prayer can be understood as a distillation of the Ten Commandments. The five petitions are: 1) The holiness of God’s name. 2) the primacy of God’s kingdom. 3) The dependency of the creation on the creator 4) the necessity of forgiveness 5) the necessity of recognizing evil and steering clear of it. The first three petitions bring to mind the first four commandments and their emphasis on the absoluteness of God and the need to not have other gods or to take the Lord’s name in vain. The remaining petitions invoke the various “thou shalt nots” of the commandments. Essentially, forgiveness is the foundation of the community and the various “evils” which are itemized in the Old Testament are here lumped together as “Temptation” and “evil” which God shall help us to avoid. As Jesus’ followers were all Jews, at this point in the story, we may safely assume that there is nothing new here. No ground breaking insight. The prayer simply reiterates to Jesus’ followers the Jewish law in which they have been living all along.

But most of this Lukan text is not concerned with the prayer itself. It is concerned with the extended story about the neighbors. Therefore, we may conclude that Jesus’ principle interest is not in the words of the prayer itself, but in the question within the question that the disciples ask. This is a common practice for Jesus in Luke as we have seen. Jesus’ stories are not generally designed to introduce a new idea into people’s heads. Jesus’ stories draw out of people the things they already know to be true but may have conveniently forgotten. The young ruler knows the greatest commandment. The Pharisee is able to identify who was neighbor to the beaten man. Simon the Pharisee understands which debtor would be more loving. So perhaps the disciples already know how to pray, if by that we mean they can open their mouths and words will come out. What they may not know is whether their prayers are worth anything. They know how to pray, but they do not know what prayers work. What, they ultimately want to know, must they do to get God’s attention? I imagine a scene in which the disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray, he answers with this prayer, and then goes back to his book or whatever he is doing. I see the disciples standing around, looking each other, kicking the dirt. “Jesus,” they say. “So…that’s it then? That will do it?” They are asking Jesus how to pray because they are afraid that their prayers are not any good. They are afraid that God does not hear their prayers. They are afraid of what will happen to them if they pray poorly. Under it all, the disciples are afraid that God may not actually care about them.

So Jesus tells them a story about a grumpy old man who has gone to bed and does not want to be bothered. With this character I can totally relate. But he is bothered—he is bothered by a neighbor who needs some food. The neighbor does not exactly say I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down, but he does persist. And so, just to get rid of him, the neighbor gets out of bed and gives the man what he is asking for.

As Amy Jo talked about two weeks ago with the story of the Good Samaritan, it was quite popular in the early centuries of the Church to allegorize Jesus’ stories. An allegory is a story within which the characters and events have a one to one relationship with real life counterparts. Have you read “Pilgrim’s Progress” by John Bunyan? This story was written in 1678 and is an allegory of the Christian’s life (The main character is named “Christian”) through hardship and peril to end finally at eternity. Perhaps the most famous allegory is one that the Greek philosopher Plato tells in his dialogue The Republic. It is called the allegory of the cave. Plato tells the story of persons chained in a cave unable to see anything but shadows of things passing by behind them. A light casts the shadows. As the people in the cave know no better, they presume the shadows are real when they are, of course, just shadows. Plato uses this story as an allegory to make the point that the people of Athens also confuse their knowledge (shadows) with what is real (Truth and Philosophy and things Plato likes). Now you don’t need to understand any of that I hope to see what allegory is. An allegory is story in which the characters and events are intended to represent actual real world people or events.

And Jesus did tell an allegory or two. At least the evangelists treat some of his stories as allegories. But mostly Jesus told parables, and parables are different from allegories. A parable is more slippery. In a parable, unlike an allegory, the target seems to be always moving. They are hard to pin down, hard to exhaust. Parables certainly are meant to illustrate ideas, ethics, morals. But they are often open ended, inviting us to enter into them in many ways and at different times. The story of the Prodigal Son is a common example. Sometimes when we hear that story we think we are like the father, other times the younger son, and other times the behavior of the older brother reminds us of our own feelings. Or the story of the Good Samaritan. There are times when we relate to the priest or Levite. Other times we feel like the victim on the road. Heaven forbid we not relate to the robbers, and at our best we resonate with the Samaritan. The point is this: with a parable there can never be a direct one to one relationship between the story and the world because the story and the world are too ambiguous to permit that.

The reason I descended into that discussion was to point out the risk of making an allegory out of this story. For if we do, we will understand God to be a grouchy old man who answers prayer to get rid of us. Now that is not what Jesus had in mind. Jesus’ story works instead by contrasting two things. Two things which are not at all alike. His point, ultimately is this: If grumpy old men get out of bed and give the neighbor what he is asking for---then how can you doubt that God---who is the opposite of the grumpy old man—will not care for you?

In a couple of weeks the lectionary has scheduled a passage wherein Jesus tells his disciples and others not to worry. Fear not, little flock, for it is your father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Let us transport that text into our own this day for it is important to see the continuity of expression on this subject. Time and time again Jesus comforts his followers with the assurance that God’s love is a given. It is part and parcel to the Kingdom of God. I am a little miffed at Jesus for saying that I, who am evil, know what good things to give my children. But I am willing to take the high road on this one. For the larger point is this---we must stop worrying about God’s love, either for us or our neighbor. The heart of the Kingdom of God is love. And love is reflected in forgiveness. And forgiveness opens the way to pursue the goals of God’s Kingdom. Which is pretty much the Lord’s Prayer. It is also at the heart of a lot of questions our children ask us---or others. The questions that have, at their heart, do you love me? Am I safe? Can I trust? Dare I risk? Jesus says yes. And yes. And yes. Love, forgive, pray, and live. Ask, knock and receive. Receive the Holy Spirit which your Father is every ready to give.

On the Road Again

Well I have been dropping twenty dollar bills into a paper shredder for a while now so i guess I am ready to go to New York. Back next week......

The Good Samaritan

Although I am not preaching this week, I was ruminating about the lectionary reading which is the familiar story of the Good Samaritan. Like many of Luke's stories, the Good Samaritan has transcended its biblical roots to become part of the common vernacular of the people. Those who do something nice for another are often called "good Samaritans" even by people who have no idea that the term comes from the Bible or who a Samaritan is.

As with many stories of Jesus, as told by Luke, the Good Samaritan does not simply fall from the sky. Jesus does not stop random passers-by and say "hear this story". The story is prompted by an exchange with a "lawyer", one of the religious leaders specializing in Torah interpretation. The lawyer correctly understands that the greatest law involves "loving neighbor as yourself." But he does not stop there. In Luke's words "seeking to justify himself", the lawyer asks, "who is my neighbor?"

It is response to this question that Jesus tells his story. The circumstances of the story are well known and we will not review them here. If you want you can go read it in Luke 10. What matters to us here is this: at the end of the story Jesus asks the lawyer "who was neighbor to the man?" The lawyer responds, "The one who showed him mercy."

Jesus, as is his custom, turns the terms of the question up-side-down. The lawyer asked, "who is my neighbor?" Jesus asks, "who was neighbor to the man?" The story redefines the emphasis of the question of neighbor. Rather than a means of assessing who is worthy of being considered a "neighbor", Jesus defines neighbor as something we "are" to others. Therefore, the worthiness of the one we help becomes irrelevant. What matters is need.

My In-laws attend a church in Green Valley, AZ which is very committed to Border issues. Arizona, as many people know, has recently passed legislation relating to illegal immigration which has raised quite a ruckus. There is a group in my In-Laws church called the "Samaritans" whose calling it is to look for immigrants in the desert region around the border and provide them with food or water or help. A great many people who seek to come from Mexico to the United States do so at great risk and many die in the attempt. Should the "Samaritans" find someone in the desert, they provide necessities for survival and, if the circumstances warrant it, they call Border Patrol.

Understandably there are many people who do not like the Samaritans. They feel these illegal immigrants get what they have coming if they die in the desert. They feel that providing them with food and water is unlawfully assisting them in breaking the law. There is a group, known as the Minutemen, who patrol looking for migrants for the purpose of harassing and intimidating them. This is not the only difference between Samaritans and Minutemen: the Samaritans are armed with water and food. The Minutemen are merely armed.

When we look at this situation in Arizona from the standpoint of Jesus' story, something should be clear. Jesus' story is about BEING a neighbor to those in need. Not, as the lawyer hoped, about assessing who was worthy of mercy. The Samaritans in Arizona are, therefore, very biblical in their desire to show mercy to those in need without assessing their character, legality, or circumstance (apart from their immediate need for food and water). The Minutemen, it would seem, are more like the Lawyer who asked Jesus the question. Who is my neighbor? Apparently, thirsty, starving Mexicans in the desert are not "their neighbor". If we want to be followers of Jesus, what shall we do? How shall we respond to the immigration issue? It is by no means easy. It is quite complicated. But we should begin with the right question. It is not, "who is my neighbor?" The right question is "Who acted as neighbor to the one in need?"