Holy Week Poetry--- Wednesday

Therefore I Must Tell the Truth

(A Navajo Song-- Tom Torlino)

I am ashamed before the earth:

I am ashamed before the heavens:

I am ashamed before the dawn:

I am ashamed before the evening twilight:

I am ashamed before the blue sky:

I am ashamed before the darkness:

I am ashamed before the sun.

I am ashamed before that standing within me which speaks with me.

Some of these things are always looking at me.

I am never out of sight.

Therefore I must tell the truth.

That is why I always tell the Truth.

I hold my word tight to my breast.

Taken from American Religious Poems, Edited by Harold Bloom, The Library of America

Holy Week Poetry--- Tuesday

Haiku from the Cross

Father, forgive them

For they know not what they do

They don’t know……don’t know

Jesus said “I thirst”

They offered a sponge of wine

Instead of justice

The one Jesus loved

Lived with the one Jesus loved

So it was finished

My God, My God, why?

Why have you forsaken me?

Silence caressed him

Jesus, remember

The one who feared God as well

As the one who laughed

"My Spirit goes forth

As wine on a hyssop branch

To a thirsty church"

Holy Week Poetry--- Monday

Paul

“Bow-legged” “hawk-nose” “half-blind”

tears and snot trailing like a comet’s tail

on the short run home.

Was anyone there?

The patriarch’s scowl

like the freezer’s draft

unthawed by mother’s nod

or just chores and lessons

and the pain of being young and strange.

Sharp stones killed Stephen

but none from your hand.

Words were sharper, better aimed

opening wounds still bleeding

through pen, tongue

mixing strangely with

faith-hope-love.

Your vision blinded you.

Did you ever regain sight?

Others took up your story

offered interpretation

but you shout them down

through your large scrawl

turned scripture by some odd

alchemy. The occasional

morphed into eternity.

A specific scolding turned

bludgeoning tool,

for countless generations.

You are not entirely to blame.

You told your story

and the violent bore it away

praising your name amidst

condemnations of those

created in the image of a

broken and bleeding god

in whose shadow they cast lots

for a divided church.

Palm Sunday- 2010

The four Gospels are like a funnel. At their beginning the differences can be wide and round. But as they progress, the field narrows, until they converge in the concentrated flow known as the Passion story.

Each of the Gospels, therefore, tell of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. That is not to say that they all report the event in the same way. Today many churches will be reading the event as recorded by Luke, as it is his year in the Lectionary. I want to offer a word about Matthew’s version and a particular detail only he includes, which you can find in Matthew 21:14-17.

This detail does not involve Jesus’ actual entry into the city. It comes later, after Jesus has rid the temple of its pollution. And having quoted Jeremiah—“my temple should be a house of prayer”—he welcomes the lame and the blind.

Up to this point Jesus’ nemesis—the Scribes and Pharisees—are absent. As Jesus enters the city to shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord”, nothing is heard from the temple rulers. As Jesus clears the temple, again no protest from the religious elite. Even when Jesus welcomes the unclean into a place where the unclean should not be, the Pharisees remain silent.

It is only when the children in the temple say, “Hosanna to the Son of David” that the chief priests and the scribes become indignant. And they say to Jesus “do you hear what these [the children] are saying?” And Jesus responds from scripture, “out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou has brought perfect praise.”

What are we to make of this? That of all the circumstances surrounding this event with which the chief priests should have difficulty, it is the confession of the children that concerns them the most. This suggests to me that the chief priests are well aware of a simple fact—change comes most effectively through the education of the young.

The chief priests were not too disturbed by the adults shouting hosanna. After all, by tomorrow they would be on to something else and by Thursday gone altogether. No point complaining about clearing out the temple. After all, Jesus wasn’t going to live there. They could just set it up again after he left.

But the children---totally subversive. What will happen to the status quo, the advantages of the privileged, the current distribution of power, if the young grow up with a different vision? Will it be possible to continue the exploitation of the poor, to stuff the pockets of those with connections, if a whole new generation should grow in awareness of the Kingdom of God?

The powerful and the privileged understand that the greatest threat to their social position is a younger generation with a different vision. In order to preserve their financial status, society's privileged must thwart the education of the young, or to infuse it with self-promoting ideology which will masquerade as “knowledge” and “objectivity”. Jesus understands differently, which is why he demanded that the children come unto him---not to simply to show his “Jesus Loves Me” kindness, but to usher in a new generation that would understand mercy and justice and human wholeness as the greatest aim of society. Jesus knew it was too late for most, but not too late for the children who still had time to learn to see the world in a whole new way.

The children of today, as well as the children of tomorrow, have the same opportunity. But the Pharisees and the chief priests are still with us. How else can we explain the pathetic role of education in public funding and the political maneuvering designed to cripple school curriculums. Palm Sunday is about more than palms and hosannas. It is about our future, our children, and whether they will be allowed to grow and be nurtured in a society concerned more with justice than with riches.

Easter Quiz

After a week of "meat" as one friend likes to put it, we have another quiz for your edification. As the Biblical story of Easter does not lend itself as well to my style of "quiz", we have chosen a more secular approach. See how many answers you know.....

Why is a rabbit the symbol of Easter?

A. His fluffy white tale reminds us of the stone covering the tomb

B. His long ears remind us of Jesus’ ascension

C. Rabbits are known for quickly increasing their number, which is what happens to church attendance on Easter

D. All of the above.

If you hide an Easter Egg in a difficult place to find, by July

A. It will be easier to find

B. You won’t want to find it

C. The dog will find it and leave it on the new living room carpet

D. All of the above

What is the best way to eat a solid milk chocolate Easter Bunny?

A. Ears first

B. Head first

C. Tail first

D. In the doctor’s office, which is where you will end up if you eat an entire solid milk chocolate Easter Bunny

If Santa comes down the chimney, how does the Easter Bunny get in?

A. As anyone knows, through the garden

B. He sneaks in past the cat when you open the door

C. He lies still so the dog thinks he’s a chew toy and brings him inside

D. He never left. He’s been in your house the whole time!!!!!

There are tons of Christmas songs. Why are there so few Easter songs?

A. We don’t know the names or number of the bunny’s reindeer.

B. It’s hard to sing “Its Beginning to Look a Lot Like Easter” when there is snow all over the place.

C. “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” is a very jealous song and scares away all the other Easter songs.

D. “Claus” rhymes with more things than “Bunny”

The Rules of the Box

Today I had planned to sum up the week long reflection on the Gospel of Luke. I was not sure quite how to proceed. I admit the subject can be a bit confusing, or technical, and perhaps the relevance of the discussion is hard to see--- past all of the "academic" sounding nit picking.

So perhaps a story will help set the stage today. We recently purchased a new computer for the home. It came in a big box. Although pleased with the new computer, our children--12 and 8 years old--became enchanted with the box. They played in the box. And, in due time, being my children, they drew up guidelines for use of the box. I would like to share with you the "Rules of the Box"

1 The Box must be respected by all.

2 The Box must never be thrown away

3 Anyone can use the box

4 The Box cannot be occupied longer than one hour

5 You must spend 15 minutes between times spent in the Box

6 The Box must be put in its designated place after usage

7 You break the Box, you FIX the Box

8 You must sign the rules sheet before using the Box

9 Air holes cannot be blocked for more than a minute

10 Whoever is in the Box has the right to veto things stuffed in the Box

But the stuffing may continue until a protest is lodged

11 Anything may be brought into the Box

12 While in the Box you have little say in what is done with the TV or computer

13 You may not trap anyone in the Box. If they want out you help them

14 The Box shall not be used for punishment. It is a place of relaxation

15 You can use the Box for anything except a storage space

So there you have it. The Rules of the Box as drawn up by my children. They have signed the form and it is affixed to the Box.

So what does this have to do with Luke? I have argued that the driving motivation behind Luke's Gospel was to lift up the centrality of community--as opposed to doctrinal adherence. The mission of the community is laid out in Luke 4, executed by Jesus in his ministry until Jesus himself is executed. But Jesus is raised and appears to two disciples first as a stranger and then as himself in the moment that he "vanishes" from sight. What is left behind is a community called upon to break bread together as they work for the Kingdom of God, which is not comprised of "things" and "knowing" but is, in fact, among them as they recognize the risen Christ in their midst.

So back to the box. What if we were to take the same rules, but instead of "box" write "church"?

1 The Church must be respected by all.

2 The Church must never be thrown away

3 Anyone can use the Church

4 The Church cannot be occupied longer than one hour

5 You must spend 15 minutes between times spent in the Church

6 The Church must be put in its designated place after usage

7 You break the Church, you FIX the Church

8 You must sign the rules sheet before using the Church

9 Air holes cannot be blocked for more than a minute

10 Whoever is in the Church has the right to veto things stuffed in the Church

But the stuffing may continue until a protest is lodged

11 Anything may be brought into the Church

12 While in the Church you have little say in what is done with the TV or computer

13 You may not trap anyone in the Church. If they want out you help them

14 The Church shall not be used for punishment. It is a place of relaxation

15 You can use the Church for anything except a storage space

Ok, so they all don't translate exactly. But in many cases these rules seem quite fitting for being community in the Church, or anywhere else. We are losing, if we have not already lost, a sense of community pretty much everywhere. As a religious professional, I am increasingly sad that churches are more and more places of exclusion based upon doctrinal certainty rather than welcoming places based upon hospitality and compassion. Churches, like the box, should not be places where people feel trapped nor should churches be used for punishment. People should not have their air holes covered while in church...

Anyway... maybe you could give this some thought and comment on what Box rules you see as helpful for building community wherever you are and in what setting you think is important.

Now if you will excuse me... my fifteen minutes are up and I am going to get back into the Box.

The Gospel of Luke-Part Four

This week I have been building a case for understanding the Gospel of Luke in a particular way. My thesis is that Luke’s Gospel is an intentionally literary act the purpose of which is to generate a response in the reader. That response is, specifically, to move the reader to a deeper participation in the “truth” of Jesus. That movement is from a reliance or insistence upon the “facts” of Christianity to a participation in Christ as part of a sharing, committed community.

Luke’s story unfolds between two bookend pieces: the Dedication to Theophilus and the Road to Emmaus. The dedication speaks of a man who has been instructed in “all these things” related to the story of Jesus. But Luke intends to go beyond this to the “truth”. That truth is finally revealed at the conclusion of chapter 24 verse 35. Here the two men retell how they encountered Jesus on the road and their hearts burned within them. And they reveal how Jesus made himself known to them “in the breaking of the bread.” The “truth” of Luke’s story is this: that Jesus’ continuing presence in the community is not principally a function of knowledge, history, creed or any of the “things” that people prioritize about Jesus. Jesus is present in the communal gathering of those whose hearts burn for the things Christ’s heart burned for—those concerns made evident in the other 23 chapters of the Gospel.

Did the original text end at this point? To my knowledge there is no ancient manuscript that ends with verse 35. But I wish there were. What follows these poignant words are another seventeen verses. These verses tell of a more conventional appearance story. Verse 36: “As they were saying this Jesus himself came and stood among them and they were startled and frightened and thought they saw a ghost.”

Now does this make any sense at all? I do not mean the appearance as such, I mean the appearance in the context of the rest of the story. In other words, we have just had this scene of great poignancy where the disciples declare, without question or doubt, that Jesus is risen. The two men relate their experience, an experience of inner fire and of recognizing the risen Jesus. They have not been traumatized at all by the circumstance of Jesus’ “vanishing from their sight”.

So why, suddenly, are they surprised and fearful to see Jesus? It makes no sense. What is worse, this scene implies that the disciples were disingenuous with their declaration about Jesus resurrection in the preceding verses. If they really believed what they said then their response to Jesus here should be, “Hey Jesus, good to see you again!”

As I mentioned, I don't feel I can build a credible case that these verses constitute a “second ending” to Luke. There are precedents, however. Mark has two additional endings. The 21^st chapter of John’s Gospel is undoubtedly an add on. So why not Luke as well?

In the early church one of the alternative beliefs with which tradition contended as called Gnosticism. Gnostics denied the physical reality of Jesus. As they were entirely spirit-centered, Gnostics disavowed Jesus’ earthly suffering and contended that his crucifixion did not represent a physical death, as Jesus spirit was never impacted and his spirit was all that mattered. It is also true that before the first century was over a man named Marcion who was quite the Gnostic and a forerunner of Thomas Jefferson. By this I mean Marcion took his scissors to Christian writings and made a bible for himself made up largely of Paul and Luke. He liked Luke. Gee, I wonder why? There are even some, but not many, who question who came first. Did Luke play off of Marcion? Or the other way round.

In any event, with this as a backdrop, it is worth speculating whether the last seventeen verse of Luke were added at some later time to refute the purely “spiritual” nature of Jesus’ resurrection appearance. The emphasis of this last scene is upon very fleshly things, such as eating fish, having bones and flesh, and wounded hands. By adding these last verses the whole emphasis of the gospel can be transformed in one final scene from that of Christ’s presence in the sharing of the community to Jesus’ physical resuscitation and command to preach “forgiveness of sins.”

That is enough for today (more than enough?) Tomorrow we conclude as I try to make a case for why any of this matters.

Still More Fill

Here is a nice piece posted by Ron Snell, the man who runs our local homeless shelter. More of same may be found on the Facebook Group "On The Other Hand"

About the time I heard that Twitterers are being investigated by the Secret Service for promoting the idea of assassinating the president, I read and heard several reports about protestors' treatment of the black caucus members as they walked into the capital building to vote on healthcare reform. A little searching turned up varying accounts of what the protestors did, with Fox News leading the way in saying it wasn't that big of a deal. Others reported that it was a very big deal.

Whatever happened, it wasn't good, and these incidents remind me that in our country there are people who are being irresponsibly stirred up to the point that someone is going to think s/he will become a national hero for taking violent action.

So I want to go on record: If, given the opportunity, you would spit on our leaders, or tell off color jokes about them, or hurl racial epithets at them, or use vulgarity or profanity in talking to them or about them, or if you participate in such things vicariously with approval, or if you listen to those who encourage and incite this type of behavior, or if you do not speak out as appropriate against those who are doing these things, I don't consider that you really care about actually improving our country, no matter what you say.

You should know by now that I value free and diverse discussion, even when it is hard-hitting and multi-faceted. But the kind of stuff that's being reported is, to me, unacceptable and I don't want anyone to think that I will support or honor anything like that. Protest all you want, but do it to others as you would have them do it to you when the tables are turned. Not because the tables will turn (which they will soon enough), but because it's a good reminder of the type of people we say we are committed to being.

I invite my friends to send similar messages to their friends to send to their friends to send to their friends. I do not want anyone's blood on my hands because I sat quietly by and let someone think they were making me proud when in reality they are offending me, and hopefully you.

While You Are Waiting

for the next installment in the Luke series I thought I would share with you an oddity that has just come to my attention.

Yesterday my wife was given a pen. It is "blood" red and has, rather than an eraser, the representation of a dead body chalk outline.

The text on the pen reads: "We're dying for your business-- L.A. County Coroner's Office Gift Shop--Skeletons in the Closet"

The L.A. County Coroner's office has a gift shop. Who'd have thought?

Please Stand By

Today's installment of our ongoing series will be posted as soon as the blogger can wake up fully, deal with the kids, do something about the dog, figure out if he's supposed to work today or not, have coffee....

it will be up when it gets done.

Thank you. :-)

The Gospel of Luke-Part Three

On the evening of Jesus’ resurrection day, two disciples head out from Jerusalem for Emmaus. We are not told why. We are only told how they feel. They are sad. As they walk they discuss “all these things” that have taken place. While they walk Jesus comes along side and asks what they are discussing. They are surprised that this stranger does not know “all these things” that have taken place in Jerusalem. By the sound of it, everyone knows “all these things” that have taken place—except the stranger, whose identity is hidden from the men.

As the three of them walk, the one named Cleopas (the other remains unnamed) unfolds the fullness of the Gospel. That Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet mighty in word and deed, was handed over to be crucified. This is why the two men are sad. They had hoped Jesus would be the one to redeem Israel. And now he is dead. But wait! Not quite! For now it has been three days and there is word that the tomb in which he was laid is empty. There was word that angels had proclaimed Jesus raised from the dead. But they had not seen Jesus.

So, in short, the two men on the way to Emmaus are disciples who know “all the things” about Jesus of Nazareth. They know that he was a prophet. That he was mighty in word and deed. That he was crucified. That he is reported raised from the dead. They are practically a walking apostles’ creed. And yet they are sad.

Do they remind us of anyone? Is there anyone else we can think of who has been instructed in “all the things” concerning Jesus? Perhaps our friend Theophilus?

When the day is spent the two men invite Jesus to stay with them. While at table he breaks the bread and blesses it and gives it to the men and their “eyes were opened” and they recognized him. In that moment he vanishes from their sight.

Now we have no idea if Theophilus was sad or not. But I am asking that we consider the parallel between this story—unique to Luke among appearance stories—and the dedication to Theophilus—also unique to Luke. Remember how Luke expressed his intent for this writing: that Theophilus might knot the "truth" of the "things" about which he had been instructed.

Is it possible that Theophilus represents a contemporary problem Luke wants to address? Namely, that there is a lot of knowledge about Jesus floating around, but very little genuine community in Jesus' name. For Luke there is an essential need for the “things” of Christianity to translate into the “presence of Christ” in the hearts of the community. Jesus offers three things to the men on the road. He reminds them of the importance of the heart. He opens their minds to the scriptures (it is not an either/or between the mind and the heart) and he becomes fully known to them—not in the heart and mind alone—but in the community that shares table fellowship in his name.

In chapter 17 of Luke, Jesus offers an observation on the nature of the Kingdom of God. The Pharisees ask him when the Kingdom of God is coming. Jesus responds “The Kingdom of God is not coming with “things” that can be observed, nor will they say ‘Look, here it is!’ of ‘There it is!’ For in fact, the Kingdom of God is among you.” The Kingdom will not be composed of things, even “all these things”. The Kingdom is a relational reality, and Jesus is present, not by sight, but by sign—the sign of table fellowship and of the burning heart which knows that truth can, indeed, be distinguished from things. Truth transcends mere knowledge.

Such is the literary genius of Luke. From the first verse to the last, the story weaves in and around this common theme. Knowledge of the Christian story does not the Christian make. And, as we can see, knowledge alone leads to sadness, despair, the absence of hope. Rather, when the mind’s acquisition of the scripture and the heart’s burning desire to live in communion come together, there Christ is. Vanished perhaps, but never absent. Hidden only from those not yet blind enough to see.

But wait, you say. That is not the end. There is another chapter. And so there is. I wish there wasn’t. :-) Tomorrow I will share why.

The Gospel of Luke-Part Two

The Gospels of John and Mark start quite appropriately with the “beginning”. Matthew provides his version of Jesus’ family tree. And Luke begins with four verses dedicated to a man called Theophilus. These four verses seem to suggest little beyond Luke’s basic purpose: to lay out an orderly account of the message of Jesus Christ.

Who was Theophilus? No one knows for certain. His name translates to “friend of God”. Many commentators will tell you that it was not uncommon in the era wherein Luke wrote to dedicate one’s work to a patron. I’ll let Alan Culpepper speak for a legion of scholars. “Luke’s prologue clearly reflects the conventional form of prologues found in contemporary historical and biographical works…It does not mention Jesus by name or title and it gives no indication of the subject matter of the work…The references to “us” and “the things about which you have been instructed” suggest that Theophilus was a believer, or God-fearer, but nothing else is known of him.”

Luke says he wants Theophilus to know the “truth” concerning the “things about which he has been instructed.” This is the suggestion made by Culpepper and countless others. The introduction is perfunctory. Luke wants to reassure Theophilus, based upon his eyewitness accounts and the fact that he has followed everything closely, that the “things” Theophilus knows are, in fact, “true”.

But what if Luke has another motive in mind? And what if Theophilus is not simply a figurehead, but a real person. And rather than simple reassurance, what if Luke has identified a problem that needs to be addressed?

What if the “truth” that Luke wants to share is, in fact, different from the “things about which Theophilus has been instructed? Maybe not categorically different, but what if there is an important distinction between the “truth” and the “things”? To answer that question, we must return to the Emmaus Road, which we shall do tomorrow.

The Gospel of Luke-Part One

Although each of the Gospels have their unique and fascinating narrative impact, my favorite is the Gospel of Luke. This preference started in the year 1990 at which time I was taking my examinations for ordination in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) The exam consisted of a passage of scripture about which the examined needed to develop a sermon. The requirements of the exam included translating the passage from its native language (in this case, Koine Greek), an assessment of the passage with a nod to various critical commentaries, a sermon summary, and a sermon.

The passage in question was the second half of Luke’s resurrection story in chapter 24, known by the shorthand phrase “The Road to Emmaus”. Briefly summarized, the Road to Emmaus features two disciples walking away from Jerusalem in the evening of Jesus’ resurrection day. One of them is named, the other not. I think that is important but that is for later. While they are walking Jesus comes and walks with them but “their eyes were prevented from recognizing him”. As Jesus walks with the disciples they explain “all these things” that have happened in Jerusalem and are amazed that Jesus (to them a stranger) is so totally ignorant. Jesus’ response is to “open their minds” to the scriptures. As the daylight fades the two men invite Jesus to remain with them and, while at the table, Jesus breaks bread before them and “vanishes from their sight.” They rush back to Jerusalem (which is something I think you can only do in a narrative) to meet up with the others who enthusiastically speak of Jesus’ resurrection. And the two disciples excitedly speak of how their hearts burned within them and how “he became known to them in the breaking of the bread”.

One of the really interesting aspects of reading any gospel is to locate those stories and details that make it unique. This is one such story in Luke’s Gospel that is uniquely his. And, given its importance as a resurrection story, it bears close examination.

And the place to start with this ending story is at the beginning. The place to start is with the first four verses of the Gospel, normally a throw away, a mere formality. And that is where we will start tomorrow.

Coming Tomorrow: The Gospel of Luke pt. 1

I have been trying to figure out how to write about my encounter with the Gospel of Luke and have finally decided that I cannot do so in one entry. So I have decided to dedicate next week to a discussion of what I find uniquely compelling about Luke's story of Jesus. And by unique I mean both Luke's take and my own. The story begins in the year 1990 when Luke was the subject of my ordination exam and my interest has grown over the last twenty years. What I propose, as far as I know, has not been proposed before. Whether it is valid will depend on my ability to articulate it and the readers' judgement as to whether I made my case.

Now I do not intend to present my assessment as an academic paper. I hope I can share it in a way that is both convincing and accessible to the casual but interested blog reader.

We'll see. But I do hope you will comment as we go. Should I try to present this information more "formally" your comments will no doubt help me clarify my thoughts.

Oh, and one more thing. Luke is the Gospel for this lectionary year (C) and his version of the Easter story will be read in churches following the lectionary. So this little exercise is also sermon prep. You know how much I love sermon prep!

Odds and Ends

After a succession of longer essays my brain hurts. I was going to post an Easter Quiz but have decided it is too early for such a quiz (it isn't very good anyway). I will save for next week why I believe Luke ended his gospel in the wrong place (if it was Luke who indeed ended it as it stands now).

So I think I will just check out into the weekend.

So....

Have a nice weekend.

Reconciliation

Several things have happened recently converging on the theme of reconciliation. First there was the invitation to discuss the subject with a gathering of church professionals (I did that yesterday). Subsequent to that was the run of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at the High School. Then there was the parable of the “prodigal son” as the text for last Sunday. All in all it led me into many unreconciled thoughts about reconciliation.

The story of Joseph is not only great literature—a textbook study in foreshadowing, irony, conflict, denouement—but it is a classic tale of reconciliation. Joseph’s favored status with his father, Jacob, leads to jealousy which leads to attempted fratricide (certainly not the first example in Genesis alone). In a perfect symphony of narrative strands, fortunes are gained and lost, intermingled themes occur and recur, until at last Joseph reveals himself to his brothers with forgiveness and generosity. It seems, over time, Jacob’s other sons have mellowed—willing now to sacrifice their lives for the sake of their brother Benjamin. And Joseph allows this change to happen and, with Jacob now in Egypt, the family is reunited with joy and thanksgiving to God.

Jesus’ story about the man with two sons is the step-child of the story of Joseph. It is, in many ways, the anti-narrative of Joseph. Whereas Joseph starts out in jealousy and exile and ends in reconciliation, Jesus’ story starts with self-imposed exile and ends in jealousy and estrangement. Whereas Joseph recognized himself, as God’s servant, as an agent of reconciliation, the elder brother refuses the same opportunity. What makes Egypt a party is Joseph’s willingness to accept change in his brothers and be forgiving. What stops the party in Jesus’ story is the elder brother’s insistence that change is irrelevant, forgiveness is undeserved, and righteousness goes wanting. Jesus tells this story in response to the religious leaders grumbling that Jesus receives and eats with sinners. Among the things the story illuminates is what a poor job the religious leaders are doing acting as agents of reconciliation for the lost and despised of their culture.

So with one story, they live happily ever after. With the other, not so much. Or so it seems. Until we read a little further into the book Exodus where, in one chilling sentence, the happily ever after unravels.

“Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.”

And so it goes. The Israelites are taken into slavery and submit to hard bondage. That is until the Lord hears their affliction and sends Moses the liberator. Moses, with God’s help, conquers pharaoh and leads the people into the wilderness. Hooray!

Where they bitch and moan about practically everything. And so it goes.

Jesus came preaching the good news of the Kingdom of God. He was crucified for it. But, on the third day he was raised from the dead. Fifty days later the Spirit came to the Church. And they lived happily ever after.

Except for the divisions in the Corinthian church over a great many things. The divisions in the Galatian churches over circumcision. The Jewish Christians who separated from the Gentile Christians. Paul who separated himself from Peter. And so it goes.

Until the Fourth Century when the Church argued about the nature of Christ. Was he fully divine and fully human? Or almost divine? Athanasius won. Arias was banished. And so it goes.

I see a trend developing. On the same Sunday that the lectionary called for the prodigal son, a portion of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians was also read. In this passage Paul contends that “If anyone is in Christ, (s)he is a new creation…all this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, that is, God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself.” As to God reconciling the world to himself, we are left with Paul’s word to this effect. It is a tenant of faith. As to the ministry of reconciliation, that seems more elusive. For there is abundant visual evidence that supports the claim that reconciliation is, at best, fleeting—like grasping a wet fish let loose on the deck.

In fact, the entire Biblical witness is one great big oscillating wave from reconciliation to alienation and back again. Adam and Eve live in paradise until they screw it up and get thrown out. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob each have their share of the back and forth of enmity and devotion.

The entirety of Samuel and Kings is the back and forth relationship between Israel and God. The people sin and are delivered unto the hands of their enemies. They repent and God brings them back. Back and forth they go until finally Assyria and Babylon set them down for good.

But not quite. For here comes Persia to release the captives. Let’s skip a bit.

We have mentioned the story of the New Testament---Jesus preaching, his apparent failure, his triumphant resurrection, the Church’s founding, the Church’s dividing, arguing. Accusations of heresy fly here and there. People of faith are burned at the stake for having the wrong faith. The Reformation comes and goes and the Church splits into many tributaries all flowing presumably from the same source but often in dramatically different directions.

I have already belabored the point. What is my point? I am not sure. I think it is this: We cannot speak about reconciliation in a meaningful way unless we are stone cold honest about how little reconciliation has had any lasting impact. It happens, as Paul Tillich said of the New Creation in Christ—here and there and now and then. We have seen reconciliation enough to believe in its possibility. We have despaired of it enough to doubt its lasting impact.

We started with a musical (Joseph), so we shall end with one. (Perhaps all the wisdom of the world is found in musicals). Camelot. King Arthur has a vision for a new order. Not might makes right. Might for right. He creates the round table, so as to prevent egos seeking the head of the table. He gains his first disciple—the immaculate Lancelot.

And yet it all comes crumbling down. The queen and Lancelot are together in a castle while Arthur waits to attack. His wife and his best friend---and he waits at dawn to kill them both.

Then the boy shows up. A small lad who wants to be part of the battle. But Arthur will not let him. Someone has to keep the memory alive. Someone has to be able to say, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, that once there was a spot for happily ever aftering that was Camelot.

Reconciliation. It can happen. It does happen. It must happen more. But so often Reconciliation is like faith—the assurance of something hoped for. The conviction of a thing not seen.

It's True--But Not In The Way They Mean It.

My daughter received a letter the other day in a fancy invitation style envelope with real stamps pressed onto the top right. It was addressed to the "Parents of Jamie Hawley", although inside was a personalized letter for Jamie as well. The letter began:

"I am thrilled to inform you that, based on her academic achievements and leadership potential, your daughter, Jamie, has been nominated to attend the Junior National Young Leaders Conference to be held this summer in Washington, D.C."

The letter had a fancy embossed seal at the top featuring the capital building. Inside was a list of U.S. Congressmen and women who were "honorary Congressional Board of Advisors". The letter specified which teacher at her middle school nominated Jamie, adding to the unique nature of this honor.

Well, as no doubt some of you have already surmised, perhaps this is not the "honor" it claims to be. It did not take long, thanks to Google, to get a fairly clear representation of what is going on here. Jamie has been invited, along with probably practically every other child in the U.S. of her age group, to go to summer camp in Washington. For $2,000.

I was already suspicious before I did my research. After all, the letter failed to mention the date of this unique honor. Only when I poured through the literature did I discover that Jamie had her choice of dates.... any week at all from June 5 through August 14. The invitation included a non-date specific "schedule" including trips and museums and even a visit to Harper's Ferry-- although the small print at the bottom did say "this schedule of events is provided as an example of the overall quality and scope of the experience offered. The specific schedule, details, and locations, including the location of the program sleepover, may be modified." In other words, nothing in here is necessarily true.

Well, it is true that Jamie is an exceptional young person. But this invitation is not an honor. It is a solicitation from a for-profit organization which essentially markets a one week summer camp in Washington D.C. for $2,000 (not including transportation). According to one internet site I visited, the parent company for this enterprise reported 18-million dollars in profits in 2009.

Ok. So big deal. This kind of thing happens all the time. Have a good laugh and throw it away.

Which we did, and Jamie took it very well that she was not, in fact, separated out for a special honor. And it is also true that, although the word "scam" was bantered about the internet, some parents did report their young person had a fine time while attending the event.

But I want to make a different observation--that this "invitation" is symptomatic of the way communication is happening more and more in our country. And not simply by direct marketers such as this. It is endemic to much media coverage, especially by news organizations such as Fox or, to some degree MSNBC.

It is a tried and true advertising trick--say something that is true, but not necessarily true in the way you intend it to be heard. For example, the local tax return franchise reports that 9 out of 10 of their customers receive a refund. Well, since 9 out of 10 American taxpayers receive a refund generally, this is true. But the implication is that customers of this service uniquely receive a refund when they are nothing more than a reflection of a national average.

Regarding Jamie's offer--it is not really a "scam" because if we pony up the money and go to Washington, D.C. she will have some kind of "experience". What is dishonest about the solicitation is the implication--which we are allowed to accept if we are uncritical enough to do so--that Jamie is somehow "special" and that this offer is sent only to a "select" few. No where does the letter say this, but the way it is packaged and presented leaves that impression. The fact that her teacher "recommended" her, lends another detail of authenticity.

It is not lying to tell the truth to someone in such a way that they will hear a different truth than the one you tell. But it is misleading and it is, I will argue, dishonest. It is more insidious than lying. We expect this sort of thing from our advertisers and our politicians. As it is said, "let the buyer beware". If you can't figure out that "free just pay shipping" is not free, than maybe you don't deserve any sympathy.

But now we are hearing this approach to communication echoed throughout most areas of our culture. It is particularly disturbing within the 24/7 cable news industry--not to mention the slick magazines and tabloid newspapers--have found this a clever way of retaining listeners and readers and of generating ad revenue. At the same time, circulation of newspapers continues to decline and true journalists are scrambling to find ways to do their jobs with integrity.

Things are not likely to get better any time soon, at least based upon the assumption that the education of the young bodes well for a society's future. Here in North Platte the school system is adjusting to a reduction of ten-percent of the budget. Kansas City has closed half of its schools. Tuition at colleges and universities is rising as public funding is reduced. Clearly our society does not value education defined as the exploration of the range of knowledge and the discovery of gifts and vocations. Boards of Educations fight battles of ideology as shadow and not so shadow organizations continue to infiltrate public education with misguided claims relating to religion, science, and the re-invention of history.

So Jamie will not be going to D.C. this summer as part of this "honored" group of random students who are now hopelessly stuck on this company's mailing list. We will be going to other places instead, such as New York City where, for much less than $2,000 she can actually go to a museum, see a show, be exposed to a new part of the country. And so can our son, who is not yet old enough to be selected for this "honor".

If we truly want to honor our students--and not just a handful-- we need to restore their education and future to a place of prominence in our distribution of public funds and, in all manner of public service, journalism, teaching, and media--we must tell them the truth.

Go, Joseph, Go

A short while ago I preached a sermon in which I said the reason we go to our kids’ piano recitals and little league games and school plays is to value the participant rather than the event. The events, I postulated, were, by themselves, not riveting enough to draw the attention of the casual passer by. I still believe that is largely true.

But sometimes, in addition to the precious kids you value, the event is worth something in itself. The event is worth a lot.

North Platte High School’s Production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat has to be one of the best high school musical productions….ever. It just has to be.

Now I have no field research to back up this claim. All I have is my own feeling of wonderment as I watched these high school kids do their thing on the stage. I can honestly say the only thing I have to compare it to are the professional shows I have seen in venues such as Broadway, San Francisco, Denver, and Omaha.

Seth Fornander played Joseph and if Seth wants a career in music theater he can surely have one. He has the looks (think Josh Groban) and the voice which, while still maturing, is steady and reliable with that “Broadway” tenor intangibility. He sang well, but Seth also acted well. He obviously possesses the stage presence which is compelling even when he is just standing there.

Seth’s performance, without question, inspired those around him to rise perhaps to a level that they may not have achieved otherwise. But this is not to suggest that the other students did not bring their own charisma to the performance. Stephani Benes brought to the dance sequence in “Those Canaan Days” the same expertise Fornander brought to the vocals. And the sons of Jacob (Rick Poppe, Casey Wroot, Tate Schad, Andrew Sodawasser, Steven Teters, Dillon Johnson, Aaron McCauley, Brandon Baxter, Bryan Hill, Ben Montgomery, and Shane Weatherly) had a chemistry in the same scene which no amount of three nights a week rehearsal should be able to master. Sodawasser, as Simeon, managed the lead in that number with enough of an accent to make the ambiance work without being “hammy” and the comedic timing was perfect (at least in the Sunday Matinee about which I am primarily writing).

And while on the subject of accents, Casey Wroot as Reuben brought the right amount of cowboy western to “One More Angel”, again without becoming a greater caricature than he was intending. The overall dance scene was very well executed.

And then there was Craig Cullinan as the Elvis Pharaoh. I am listening now to the London cast recording and I just can’t hear that much of a difference between the artists and the kids regarding this “specialty” solos.

Erin Wright, Brooke Ludemann, and Natalie Poppe were secure and steady as narrators.

In all, the students had solos, ensemble singing, complicated choreography, comedic timing, and they did it all, smoothly, all the time (at least from my perspective).

And what is more---they were having fun. It was obvious that each and every high school participant was really enjoying what he or she was doing. That, no doubt, contributed much to the final result.

The production was directed by Leah Purdy who directed the orchestra while Jill Petersen managed the stage and props.

This production included the optional Joseph Megamix medley at the end of the show which, at first, I was skeptical of. In fact, opening night the audience stood to applaud after the “Close Every Door” reprise and remained standing awkwardly believing the Megamix to be the curtain call until finally, after a few minutes, they sat back down until the real bows began which were again greeted by a standing ovation.

But by Sunday it was clearly a good decision. After Sunday’s performance, I wanted not only the Megamix but a longer run. A much longer run.

When the final curtain fell—after the final bows—I had that same rush of adrenaline and misty eye that always accompanies a great production that I see on

Well…

On Broadway.

Are Some Animals More Equal Than Others?

March 14, 2010

First Presbyterian Church- North Platte, NE

Rev. James Hawley

Luke 15:1-32, 2 Corinthians 5:16-21

A good reputation can be a wonderful thing. Say you have a reputation for being honest. Or you have a reputation for being generous. With such reputations as these people are glad to see you, glad to have you attend their fundraisers. Glad to have you as a friend. But it is equally true that negative characteristics can become our reputation. Say you have a reputation for having a temper. Or say your have a reputation for cheating at cards. Do you think you will get many bridge invitations? (bridge, for our younger listeners, is a card game old people play). One hopes for a good reputation, because reputations are hard to get rid of. If you have a reputation for being honest you can cheat a few times before people begin to get suspicious. But if you have a reputation for dishonesty, then no amount of fair play seems enough to win over the skeptics.

Bible stories also have reputations. For example, no where in the Bible do the wise men and the shepherds cross paths, but there they are co-mingling every year in Christmas Pageants around the world. The Bible says Adam and Eve ate of the fruit of the tree, and yet it is the apple that is almost universally blamed for the trouble. Jonah spent three nights in a “great fish”, but every children’s bible talks about Jonah and the whale. These are not necessarily “bad” reputations. It could have been an apple. The fish might have been a whale. But the point is, once we think we know someone or something, it takes quite a bit to get us to see the person—or the story—differently.

That is a burden born by Luke’s story of the man and his two sons. This is one of those great Bible stories that has made the break to the big time—to the arena of public usage without any necessary reference back to the Bible. Joey comes home from college with a pile of laundry and Dad will crack, “Look, the prodigal has come home!” Or maybe your co-worker comes back from a long weekend skiing and he looks like no amount of coffee in the world will help him, so you say “well, well, so the prodigal has decided to show up at work.”

First of all, prodigal is not a noun. It is an adjective. And prodigal, does not mean lost. It does not mean “where have you been, we haven’t seen you in a while.” Prodigal means waste. Prodigal means reckless lavishness. The Son is prodigal because he took his inheritance and spent it recklessly to his ruin.

But this is where the reputation of the story gets in the way. Because this story, like all of Jesus’ major parables, is so deep and broad with suggestive meaning that it is best not to give it a name at all. In fact, the word prodigal doesn’t appear in the text—English or Greek. There are several characters in this story, and each one is important. Although it is not inaccurate to see this as a tale of repentance, forgiveness, and reclamation, it is also much more.

One non-traditional place to begin is to place the story in its larger context, something the lectionary doesn’t do. The story we call the prodigal son is the last of a trilogy of stories Jesus tells in response to a snide comment made by the Pharisees and the Scribes. They are grousing because the sinners were drawing near to Jesus. “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” Jesus’ response is to tell them three parables. First he talks of the shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep in order to find the one that is lost, and when he finds it he brings it back and gathers his friends and neighbors to rejoice in finding the lost sheep. Jesus says “there will be more Joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” That seems clear enough, but then Jesus goes on to tell of a woman who loses one coin and turns her house upside down to find it. She then rejoices with her neighbors for finding the lost coin. Again Jesus drives home the point, “there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” So we’re good, right? We get the point? Perhaps not. For Jesus is now about to tell the famous story, but we are not quite done with the first two.

In each of the first two parables something of value was lost and then found. The sheep and the coin have obvious, intrinsic value. The sheep was property. It was an asset. The coin had obvious value as currency. Dare we imagine what the Pharisees are thinking in response to Jesus’ stories? “Duh (to use the vernacular of the young)…who doesn’t try to retrieve something of value? But Jesus, we are not talking about things of value here. We are talking about sinners. Worthless scum that they are! Whatcha got to say about that? (I am paraphrasing, of course)

And so Jesus tells the story of the man who had two sons. This is how Jesus introduces the story—a man with two sons. This tips us off right away that the story is about more than one son. It is about three, distinct characters. The younger son demands his inheritance and takes off. He is the “prodigal” son because he recklessly wastes his inheritance until he is left worse than the pigs. So he comes to a practical solution. He will return to his father as a servant so at least he can eat. We skeptics might even question the sincerity of his words, “Father I have sinned.” Are they genuine or simply expedient? But he did “come to himself”, and that was an important moment.

But the father does not wait to hear of the son’s repentance. Before he even has a chance to say his line the father has already decided on a course of action. It is enough for him that his son has come back. When his son does say his well rehearsed line, the Father is not even listening. He is preparing for the joyous celebration. Now it is the father who is behaving prodigally.

Which brings us to the older son. The bitter one. The “good” one. Why is he unhappy? Because this is not fair. The older son has been steady, reliable, never asking for anything. And the fact that he never asked for anything means he never got anything, not so much as a goat, let alone a fat calf, for his own party. And note very carefully how the older brother refers to his younger brother. He says to the father, “this son of yours”. Not “my brother”. He says, “this son of yours.” That sounds a little distant. It seems to be not quite family.

And finally the father. He was so happy just a moment ago. And now? Well, being the loving father he obviously is he is now engulfed with bittersweet emotions. You see, he was so happy that his youngest son returned. But now his older son is angry. He pleads with his older son to understand the rightness of the celebration, encourages him to enter into the joy. He offers a counter statement to the brother's line "this son of yours." The father refers to him as "this brother of yours." But the older son resists. He refuses to acknowledge his brother.

So, as the story ends, is anyone happy? Perhaps the youngest son is happy, although does he have residual guilt? A sense that he is not worthy of the celebration? Does he know how his brother feels? It is so hard to repent when those closest to us will not let us. The older son is not happy, as he feels the whole affair is unjust, that the undeserving get rewarded while the well behaved are left out. And the father can’t be happy. He wants joyous sons. He wants his older son to be happy for the younger. He wants his family back.

And so the story concludes but is the conclusion satisfactory? Or is it the case, as with all great stories, that the conclusion is not in the story, but in the reader. The conclusion of the story lies with us.

So let’s go back to the observation we made earlier. This story is the last of a trilogy about the lost being found. Remember we remarked that the lost objects of the first two stories were things readily seen as valuable. Sheep and coins were assets, they have obvious intrinsic worth. So as Jesus tells these two stories he is inviting the Pharisees into a “gotcha” moment. For the third story is not about a sheep or a coin, it is about a human being. And because the story comes connected to the previous two stories, we may assume that the essential point is the same. If the sheep and the coin are valuable, worth finding, then so is the human being. The human being has as much, or more, intrinsic value as the sheep and the coin. And this is the aspect of the Pharisee’s point of view—as echoed in the older Brother’s observations—that Jesus wants to draw out into the light. Human beings—even “sinners”—are intrinsically valuable in the sight of God. No one is expendable. Not even the prostitutes, lepers, lame, women, children—anyone else so easily disposed of in Jesus’ day.

The title of the sermon is taken from George Orwell’s book “Animal Farm”, a staple of every high school English class. When the animals take over the farm from the mean and harsh human farmer, they seek to establish a more just and utopian society. The pigs take charge and establish some new rules---better rules than the farmer lived by. The fundamental principle upon which the new society is based is that “all animals are equal”. Well, as the pigs Napoleon and Snowball continue to feed off of power and authority---until Napoleon essentially becomes a human being—the rules change. And the fundamental rule that all animals are equal becomes “all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.”

Here is the link. The Pharisees, as Luke and the other Gospel writers portray them, are like Snowball and Napoleon. What begins with a very clear message at creation—that human beings are made in the image of God—over time becomes “human beings are made in the image of God—but some human beings are made more in the image of God than others.” Some human beings are simply “better than” others. More righteous, more correct, more pious, less sinful. Luke also tells us of the Pharisee and the sinner who go to the temple to pray and the Pharisee prays “I thank thee, Lord, that I am not like other people. Like this sinner here.” Enter the older brother. He is angry because, well, he is better than his brother. He is more acceptable, more pious, more righteous. And no one is arguing that. No one said he was in the wrong. His own father said “whatever is mine is yours.” It is in the older brother’s own head that his younger brother is just not worth being saved!” Especially if it is going to cost him in the process.

It is a terrible state to be in when we believe that money and property and other such things are more valuable than people. By extension it is also a sad state of affairs when we find doctrine and dogma and fixed moral codes to more important than people. All people, even the sinners, are intrinsically valuable to God. More so, in fact, than all of the things we want to value.

None of this is to say that behavior does not matter. The younger son does act in a foolish and self-destructive manner. That we have intrinsic value to God does not mean God is indifferent to the nonsense we subject ourselves and others to through our behavior and bad judgment. What it does mean is that God loves us before, during, and after the dumb things we do. God is not interested in punishing us for the bad decisions we make, God is interested in our “coming to ourselves” and repenting of the self-destructive behaviors with which we are involved. And as the community that bears Jesus name, we should all be more interested in welcoming the lost than in pointing out who the lost is so we can distance ourselves from them. How Christian it would be if we had the reputation here in town as the church that “receives sinners and eats with them”.

Personally I am tired of grace with so many strings attached. I am tired of hearing about God’s love but some exclusions apply. I am tired of the self-righteousness of any church that presumes to determine who is fit to come to the Lord’s table. I am tired of right belief being the condition of membership, apart from a belief that Jesus Christ is Lord and Savior. I am tired of the defense of doctrine as more important than the defense of people and of purity in the church as more important than the church as the family of God. And, frankly, I think Jesus was tired of it, too. Which is why he repeatedly makes the point from beginning to the end of each and every Gospel that God loves human beings and wants what is good for human beings and expects his followers to love human beings and welcome them in their lost condition even as we are welcomed in our lost conditions. For in one way or another we are all lost, or were lost. We are lost until we find our way home to the center of faith and love which wells up in us and allows us to say, with full confidence, I am accepted. I am loved. The church of Jesus Christ should not be one more impediment for people to overcome on their way to divine acceptance. The Church of Jesus Christ should be killing the fatted calf, changing the water into wine, inviting all to the wedding feast, pointing out that the tomb and the cross are empty and that our cup is running over.

Paul told the Corinthians that Jesus Christ was the New Creation. Just as in the first creation, human beings are once again restored to the image of God. Paul calls this work reconciliation. God was at work in Jesus Christ reconciling the world to himself. And God has entrusted to us—can you believe it?—to us the message of reconciliation. Let that be our reputation. That we are prodigal with our grace. That we rejoice that all human beings are equal—some maybe a little more lost than others, but no less valuable. And we pray for that day when all the lost are found, all the sons and daughters have come home, and the family of God can finally party together in joy.