Lessons Learned At the Museum of Science and Industry

Today we visited the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago. Clearly there are many and wondrous things to see and do. But by days end two things were made abundantly clear to me: A group of 12 cannot make a decision if the goal is to agree on what everyone is supposed to do next and if you want to engage the public around difficult ideas such as global warming and physics, you must be loud, messy, high energy, and hand out stickers.

These two truths seem applicable to my world in the mainline church. One: Although we were one family, we went round and round about what to see when to eat etc. Our only hope was to finally abandon the notion of unanimity and break into smaller affinity groups. Should the Church be different? Are many denominations an offence to the unity of Christ or our only hope of not killing each other.

All of the presentations were loud, upbeat, showy, with stickers and stuff. It was science Vacation Bible School. The cool thing about science is that the ideas and theories translate into demonstration. You can see and hear the principles in action. Is this not, in a way, the sacraments? Perhaps if the bread exploded....

Just some thoughts while wandering around.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Ancient Wisdom

Travelling around Chicago reminds me of a truth once told to my father before he visited New York-- drop 20 dollar bills into a paper shredder and when it doesn't bother you anymore you are ready to go.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Reflections on the Lake

So last night around midnight, the kids were out looking at the lake, still and mirror-like reflecting moonlight in a cool breeze. They were overcome by the beauty of the scene, prompting my 9-year-old son to observe the following, which is an exact quote:

Tonight I have experienced such beauty. I thought beauty was in a woman's face that you loved. But today I have figured out that beauty isn't always in a woman's face that you love----it can be right in front of you. You just have to take a moment and just soak it in. It can even make you cry.

Please stand by

I am on vacation in the wilds of Michigan. I will think about blogging again on return. Thank you for your patronage.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Haiku Wednesday- Challenge

Accept the challenge?
Perhaps-Depends-Possibly
But which door to choose?

One is stark, unhinged
haunting glow of yellow, green
seeps below the frame

The other oaken
honey sweet drips of thick bronze
frost the beveled edge

Whick knob shall I grasp?
The Lady or the Tiger-
Oh, the twist of fate

Only truth will tell
Valor and bravery swell
God help me to grasp

a hopeful future
a conquering tug-nothing
resistance and fear

I pull again-blind
die cast--bridge crossed--the ship sailed
dizzy-flushed-panic

How could I choose wrong?
The door must yield to my pull
Oh, the sign says push.

When The Story Is About Us- A Sermon

Luke 7


I am imagining a common scene, played out across dining tables everywhere. The mother offers a piece of difficult but necessary wisdom to the teenager. The teenager sits quietly, pondering, absorbing. The father, unaware of the dynamic, offers what he believes to be encouragement. “I believe what your mother is saying is…..” but he never finishes. The teenager looks up with a growl and says, “I KNOW what she is saying!”

And such is the preacher’s lot with texts such as this. And there are many texts such as this. Texts we call parables, or simply the narrative story itself, wherein the interaction of character and dialogue is meant to stand as sufficient, self evident. What more is there to say to Jesus’ words about love and forgiveness? How does the preacher avoid being the one who says, “I think what Jesus is trying to say is….” To a congregation that knows what Jesus says. Silence, not sermons, may be the more appropriate response to texts such as this.

And yet I will take the risk and say something, even if to only shine a spotlight even more brightly on Jesus’ words and Luke’s story. The situation is straightforward enough. One of the Pharisees has invited Jesus to dinner. This is a common strategy which we see played out on the 24 hour cable news channels all the time. Whoever is the hot ticket, whoever has the buzz, that is the one we want as a guest. We want to be associated with him. We want the people to think of us as a pair. Jesus is the latest thing, especially after that resurrection trick he pulled at Nain. Or, perhaps, there is another explanation. Remember the adage—keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Whatever the reason, Jesus is at table with the Pharisee who is distinguished by a trait few Pharisees share in the Gospel. He has a name. Simon.

So Simon the Pharisee and Jesus the Christ are at table together. No other is mentioned until the end of the story save the woman, the woman from the city, the woman who is a sinner, the woman who is a problem. The woman is behind Jesus, in view of Simon, washing and anointing his feet. We need to make a careful note of the language here. The Pharisee, Simon, said disparaging things about the woman to himself. Not out loud. There is no direct challenge to Jesus here. This foreshadows a similar scene later in the Gospel around the time of the story of the prodigal in chapter 15. At that time the “sinners and tax collectors” were coming near to Jesus and the Pharisees were grumbling, saying to themselves “this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” And Jesus’ response is also the same—he anticipates the objection and has a direct response to it.

And as is Jesus’ way, he tells a story. Two debtors, one creditor. One owes a great deal, one owes little. The creditor forgives both debts. Who will be more grateful? The answer seems obvious to Simon. The one who was forgiven more, he says, no doubt wondering what the relevance is. Just so, Jesus says.
When David decided to borrow Bathsheba from her husband while her husband was fighting David’s war, he did so without much thought to consequence. He was king, after all. It was after Bathsheba disclosed her pregnancy that David decided he had to take preventive measures. After failing to entice Uriah, her husband, to spend the night with her, he tried to have him killed. He succeeded in this and his problem was solved. That is until Nathan, his court “story-teller” came to him with a story.

There was a poor man who had a sheep. He loved the sheep as one loves a child. The rich man had many sheep and, when one was needed for a lavish banquet, the rich man did not want to take from his own flock and instead took the poor man’s dear sheep and served it up with mint jelly. David, upon hearing of this towering injustice, was filled with rage. As I am king, he proclaimed, such a man as this deserves death. Let him repay four times the loss.

David’s indignation is encouraging, but his sensitivity is still lacking. After all, this was not a property issue, this was a love issue. In Nathan’s story the poor man clearly loved the sheep and had no intention of ever serving it to anyone. David sees the injustice, but he doesn’t see the emotional import. He doesn’t understand that there are some things more important that property, assets, and privilege.

Which is why, perhaps, we still need sermons on stories. When David heard the story, he knew what it was about, except the part that was about him. When Simon heard the story, it was tiresomely obvious, except that part which indicted him. This is the joy and sorrow of story. Story opens to us levels of awareness that rational argument cannot penetrate. Jesus, and Nathan, understood one of the first rules of engaging the audience—emotional response.

Those of you with children. Did you ever call your parents to complain about your child? You would not believe the words that come out of that child’s mouth! All she does is complain! He just will not clean his room! And your parent listens patiently on the other end before saying, calmly and plainly, you are the man. (or the woman). You were the same way. Or have you ever caught yourself complaining to another person about all the gossipy people while in the process of gossiping about them? When we hear stories that engage our sense of right and wrong, our “common” sense, the moral seems self evident. But it is a common characteristic of such stories that it is easier to apply its lessons elsewhere, or not apply it at all. Simon understood well enough that if one is forgiven one hundred and another ten, the one forgiven one hundred will likely feel more relieved. David understood well enough that you should not raid someone else’s house for what you should supply yourself. What neither understood was that the story was about them.
The bible stories are not just history and they are not just stories. They do not all have the feel good impact of the children’s bible. They are deep and penetrating examinations of what it means to be a human being, good and bad, in the presence of God. This is the power of all stories that matter, that endure. Stories serve not as windows on the past but as mirrors for the present. Stories that matter have the power to change us in ways that argument and lecture and a mountain of facts never can. So Jesus told stories—stories designed to sneak up on us with their truth so that we end up inviting them in before we know what they have to say to us. Had Nathan simply told David he had done a bad thing, David could have denied and excused and evaded. Had Jesus told Simon straight out that this woman was forgiven and therefore loved he would have gotten lost with the others in the argument about forgiveness and who can forgive and when. No. Nathan invited David to self-discovery and Jesus does the same for Simon and for us. In our debt encumbered culture we can surely relate to Jesus’ question to Simon. So can we see, by extension, the truth about love?

Jesus’ story is the story within the larger story that Luke is telling. In Luke’s story we note that the “others” at the table argue about forgiveness. Who does he think he is that he can forgive. But Jesus never forgives the woman. He merely observes that she is forgiven. And this is what explains her actions, her love, her compassion. Does Simon understand? We are not told. We hear only the bickering of the ones Jesus was not directly addressing. Maybe Simon gets it, as David did. You are the man, Simon. You love little, because you are forgiven little. You love little, hence little do you forgive.

Paul Tillich, a wonderful theologian and preacher, offered a sermon on this text. Why, he asked, do so many turn away from their righteous parents, their righteous pastors? Do escape judgment? That is surely some of it. But, Tillich speculates, more often it is because they seek a love that is rooted in forgiveness, and this the righteous ones cannot give. There was a pastor in North Platte many years ago who mentioned once to Amy Jo that it was getting harder and harder to find people to be on the church’s board. “There are just not enough righteous people,” he complained. Is it easier to fill a board with forgiven people?

Tillich concluded his sermon with these words. “The Church would be more the Church of Christ if it joined Jesus and not Simon in its encounter with those judged unacceptable. Each of us who strives for righteousness would be more Christian if more were forgiven him, if he loved more and if he could better resist the temptation to present himself as acceptable to god by his own righteousness.

Haiku Wednesday- Fathers

Teach me all you know
my son said to me one day
as I tucked him in

That won't take too long
I replied, his eager eyes
staring at my soul

I can be like you
he said, pulling up the sheet
you need higher goals

I flippantly said
and he flashed a wise smile
as the room went dark

and the door was shut
and my life flashed before me
well, he could do worse

Jamie's Pictures

Well.... life is full of surprises. While we were away picking up our daughter from her week long higher education camp at Creighton University (Omaha), Mother Nature dumped six inches of rain on our house leading to water in the kids' bedroom. So higher ruminating has been placed on hold while we deal with pedestrian housing issues.

Still, I thought I would share two of the pictures Jamie took in her digital photography class. These are her two favorites and were matted by the instructor.

Haiku Wednesday

I am on my own
No hint or guidance awaits
I risk the venture

Hoping that my words
blind and flightless though they be
will still catch the scent

and dare to depart
to the place where faith alone
navigates the breeze

A sudden rush of wind
ripping from gravity's grasp
syllables of love

My Miss Nebraska

It started as a joke. A member of my church has had a long time involvement with the Miss Nebraska program and I mentioned to her that my family should host a contestant. I was sure my daughter would enjoy it.

Some time later the phone rang. My wife answered it. It was someone from the Miss Nebraska program telling her about our upcoming house guest. Oops. I guess I forgot to mention it.

In any event, this is how Heather came into our lives. Heather is Miss Columbus. Heather is a graduate of the University of Nebraska and is currently living in Omaha. Heather is delightful.

And Heather is persistent. As we got to know Heather we learned that she has overcome much adversity. At five she was diagnosed with Crohn's Syndrome. This causes her weight to fluctuate a great deal, as much as 20 pounds a month either way. With the Crohn's comes arthritic complications. One doctor told her she has the spine of a ninety year old woman. And yet she dances because she loves to dance.

Dance is Heather's talent. Her platform is mentoring. She has mentored many young women and truly believes in her platform.

We learned a lot about pageants this week. We learned the cliches are true. We experienced the ironies of pageants. The girl with the anti-bullying platform is the biggest thug in the dressing room and the girl with the eating disorders feel good about your body platform ate celery all day for swimsuit competition.

And then there was Heather. Steady, level-headed Heather. She had to cope with her gown, which the tailor nearly ruined. She needed ear rings air lifted in for Thursday night. She was tired from her medical conditions. And she could tell already the chemistry was not good with the judges. They did not like dancers, it appeared. And certainly not girls with a little too much weight.

So the finale came and went. Heather was not chosen on of the seven finalists, although she did win for best interview of a non-finalist. When the pageant was over, and the 17 year old first timer was crowned Miss Nebraska, there were the predictable reactions. Some girls cried. Some girls were angry. Many supporters were angry. What were the judges thinking? How could they leave the local girl out of the runners-up. The curtain closed and the drama began.

When we found Heather at the Quality Inn for the awards ceremony, she was concerned. A young girl, one she had mentored, had given up her own birthday party to travel to North Platte to see Heather, and Heather had not made the final seven. While other girls circled around their supporters to lament the injustices of the world, Heather was busy looking for this little girl. She wanted to make sure she saw her. Thank her for coming. She had bought a birthday card for her.

Now that is MY Miss Nebraska.

The Gorilla in the Text- A Sermon

Note: When the sermon was delivered at The First Presbyterian Church, North Platte, Nebraska, this video was first shown to the congregation. You should take a moment to watch it.

The Gorilla in the Text

Luke 7:11-17

Did you see the gorilla? Half of the people who watch this video do not see the gorilla. The experiment has been conducted in many countries, with diverse groups, and the result is always the same: half of the observers do not observe the gorilla. They are so engaged with counting the passes by the people in white that the gorilla comes and goes without notice. The authors of this study have written a book about this phenomenon and others like it. In “The Invisible Gorilla”, psychologists Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons off this summary: “When people devote their attention to a particular area or aspect of their visual world, they tend not to notice unexpected objects, even when those unexpected objects are salient, potentially important, and appear right where they are looking.”

The authors offer another illustration—this one more serious. In 2001 a military submarine near Hawaii engaged in a training exercise. The submarine performed what is known as an “emergency deep”. The commander of the sub followed this with an emergency tank blow, in which the main ballasts are emptied and the sub surfaces as fast as it can. This maneuver causes the sub to exit the water briefly. In this case, the sub surfaced under a Japanese fishing boat. Three crew members and six passengers aboard the boat died. The fishing boat was 200 feet long. How could a modern submarine miss the presence of a 200 foot long fishing boat? The investigation concluded that the accident occurred because the commander of the sub failed to see the fishing ship during a routine periscope search of the area. How could this be? How can you not see a fishing boat through the periscope? Chabris and Simons write, “the key lies in what [the commander] thought he would see when he looked. As he said later, “I wasn’t looking for it, nor did I expect it.” He looked right at the fishing boat and did not see it.

I believe this is a fascinating topic to consider. Although these psychologists focus on the visual, I believe their findings suggest that a very similar thing happens when we read something, especially something with which we are very familiar or at least something with which we believe we are very familiar. More specifically, I found this a very insightful observation for reading the Bible. It is quite possible that because we believe we understand something, we will look right past something important that is right before our eyes. Exhibit A comes from our text this morning.

The story of Jesus at Nain is part of a progression of healing which begins with Jesus healing a Centurion’s daughter. This healing comes by request of the father and happens long distance, as Jesus never sees the girl, just pronounces her well. From there he moves on to Nain where he comes upon a funeral procession. Jesus has progressed from a sick daughter at a distance to a dead son at his feet. The dead man is a widow's only son, which implies that the widow herself is now at risk as she has no male household member

So this man is dead. And Jesus raises him from the dead. By his word—I say to you arise—the man sits up and begins to speak and he is restored to his mother. This act serves the dual purpose of bringing the man back to life and restoring his mother’s security.

But the larger point is this—Jesus raised him from the dead. This story is one of resurrection. This intrigues me. We are conditioned to think of Jesus’ resurrection as being unique in human history. God raised Jesus from the dead, thus conquering the power of death once and for all. And yet here is a story of resurrection that comes only seven chapters into Luke’s story. And before that—both Elijah and Elisha are credited with restoring life to those who were dead. They were prophets powerful in word and deed.

So what does it mean that Jesus is not the only one to be raised from the dead in the gospel? He is not even the first! We might even imagine this man living long enough to hear of Jesus' resurrection. What might he say? Been there done that? In order to get to the bottom of this, it was time to consult the wisest commentaries. But not long after I began my search, I realized there were gorillas in our midst.

The first thing I noticed was how many of the commentaries used the word “resuscitation” rather than “resurrection”. Now maybe I am just is splitting hairs or is this distinction important? The Oxford English Dictionary defines resuscitation as the “restoration of consciousness or life in one who is near or apparently dead.” Using the word resuscitation hedges our bet a little. The implication is that the person may not have been really dead, or perhaps dead such a short time it was possible to revive him. Contrast this definition with that of resurrection. The number one definition is the Oxford English Dictionary is “the rising again of Christ after his death and burial.” I found this really interesting. Resurrection, according to the OED, is something that happens to Jesus. And it happens to the rest of us "on the last day". But apparently it doesn't happen to middle aged men in the city of Nain, even if the text right in front of us explicitly says so. Gorillas indeed.

The second thing I noticed was the extensive discussion tying this episode to that of Elijah. Now this is quite understandable. The parallels simply cannot be missed. Elijah raises the widow’s son and Jesus raises the widow’s son. The widow proclaims Elijah a man of God and the people proclaim of Jesus that a great prophet has risen among us and the buzz travels. Many commentators emphasized this miracle as an act of compassion on behalf of the widow.

But this parallel with Elijah only reinforces my main point: resurrection is not new. It was happening centuries before Jesus was born, it happened several times by Jesus’ own hand (in addition to this story there is the 12 year old girl and Lazarus in the Gospel of John). and Jesus himself is raised. So what are we to make of all of this? The man was dead. Stone cold dead. And Jesus raised him from the dead. And the man even spoke in a post-resurrection appearance. The Gorilla in the text is resurrection.

If we think of Jesus’ resurrection as the unique, one and only occurrence of resurrection, than we miss these other occurrences clearly displayed in the text. But this is not to say there is nothing significantly unique about Jesus’ resurrection. Only that the resurrection itself is not unique.

When we think of Jesus’ resurrection as unique—the one and only—we keep it safely tucked away in the past. Resurrection happened once and the world was changed. This is how Paul understands Jesus’ resurrection—as the point of new Creation. And this resurrection of the past becomes the promised resurrection of the future. The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised, according to Paul’s understanding. So Jesus’ resurrection is rooted in the past and projected into the future. But what about the present?

When the widow’s son died in the time of Elijah, Elijah prayed to the Lord and the son had his life come back to him. It was by this miracle that the widow knew that the power of God was active in the world. When the widow’s son was raised by Jesus, he did not call upon God—he uttered the word “arise”. And the son was restored to life. In this way the people knew that a might prophet had risen among them. When Jesus was raised from the dead—well we don’t know. Scripture does not tell us. He was dead and then the tomb was empty and he appeared alive again to his disciples. Jesus was raised by the power of God—in a transaction known only to Jesus and God. So we see the progression. Resurrection through supplication to God. Resurrection by the power of God working in Jesus. Resurrection by the power of God alone.

So, today, in this present time, by what power does resurrection occur? By the power of God! By what instrument? Through the body of Christ, God’s Church. But someone might say, no one has been raised. The dead stay dead. Is it not in the last days that resurrection shall occur? And the scripture does suggest this. But scripture also says something else we must consider. And because this story of Jesus raising the man at Nain appears only in Luke, let us briefly consider another story that occurs only in Luke. The familiar story of the prodigal son.

We will not review this whole story, we know it well enough. It is the end of the story that concerns us. When the son comes home to his joyous father from a life of ruin. The older brother is bitter, and their father says—we have to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.

There are many ways to die in this world and there are many who are dead even in this life. Without diminishing the legitimacy of resurrection in these two stories, without calling into question the resurrection of the dead on the last day, we must also admit to the kind of death to which Luke refers in the story of the prodigal son. This is the death of despair. This is the death of hopelessness. This is the death of ruin, of addiction, of desperate loneliness. This is the living death of those who live without meaning, hope, love, joy—all of the aspects of life many of us take for granted. The death that was the father’s son who---when he came to himself—was received with joy. For he was dead and is now alive.

This is a resurrection story. But not one quite as obvious. This is the resurrection that dresses in the gorilla suit and beats its chest in the midst of basketball players. For whereas God was at work in Elijah, God was at work in Jesus to raise the dead, so God is at work in us, his church, to raise the dead that are around us. As God raised Jesus from the dead so God will raise us in the last day but until then, God calls us to live a life of resurrection and resurrecting.

For the spiritually and emotionally dead are among us. They might even worship with us from time to time. By understanding resurrection as an act of God in the here and now, we may be more sensitive to our calling to follow in the footsteps of the prophets and call the dead to life, which is to say to be the agents of God’s love, peace, forgiveness, hope, and reconciliation.

Those who missed the gorilla the first time will now see the gorilla for the rest of their lives. And this is also why it is important to continue to open and read the Bible. We cannot assume that we "know" it. God's Word continues to speak to us, reveal to us, call to us and change us by our encountering it in the text. The Bible speaks today but we have to take a step back from all that we think we know to allow ourselves to hear and see, maybe for the first time, those aspects of Jesus and of God that we need to hear and know. When we read the Bible we should look for the gorilla, expect the gorilla. From experience I can tell you there are few things more rewarding than to have a new understanding, a new awareness come to me out of the pages of this ancient text. Maybe that, in its own way, is a resurrection moment too.

If You Could Find Your Seats, Please.....

we will get started blogging again. After a few weeks hiatus from blogging to deal with actual life, blogging will resume tomorrow. I will post today's sermon: The Gorilla in the Text and follow that up with a reflection on our week hosting a Miss Nebraska contestant. Haikus will return Wednesday and we will try to fulfill our promise to offer reflections on theology, religion, spirituality and culture. Thank you for your patience and please turn off all cell phones and refrain from using flash photography.

Thank you.