06-02-2024 But Not - The New Normal

Thomas J Parlette
“But Not”- The New Normal”
2nd Cor. 4:5-12
6/2/24
          He’s the unlikeliest of folk heroes. Khaki pants. Team jersey. A whistle dangling from his neck. A Ned Flanders mustache and a sun visor covering his receding hairline.
          He is, of course, Ted Lasso, the character created by Jason Sudeikis that became a runaway hit for Apple TV during the pandemic years. Ted is an American college football coach, who goes viral for his enthusiastic dancing after he leads his team to a Division 2 championship. He is plucked from obscurity by a wealthy English divorcee, who recruits him to coach her Premier League football team – which in America, we call soccer of course. The problem is, Ted has never coached that kind of football – he knows virtually nothing about soccer. On his way over to England on the plane, Ted and his assistant coach, Beard, try to learn as much as they can about this new kind of football.
          Not too surprisingly, the British sportswriters are underwhelmed by Ted and his folksy ways at his first press conference. They think Ted’s boss, Rebecca is crazy. And it turns out, she is – she is crazy like a fox. Her secret goal is to run her football franchise into the ground to punish her ex-husband, a thoroughly unlikeable man named Rupert. She recently won the team from him in their divorce settlement, and she knows how much he loves it, the pet project of his life. Rebecca doesn’t care how many millions it will cost her; she just wants to stick it to Rupert and destroy what he loves most. And how better to do it than to hire a coach who is clearly unqualified and certain to become a laughingstock as his team flounders. The bottom line is that the bitter team owner is setting Ted up to fail. He’s the sacrificial lamb she needs to take her revenge.
          Much hilarity ensues, with too many heart-warming moments to mention, I won’t ruin it for you. But what’s truly surprising about the series is the character of Ted Lasso himself. He is truly likeable, despite all the ridicule he faces. He never lets it get to him. As he says to one of his players when he makes a bad play…
         “What animal has the shortest memory? A goldfish. A gold fish has a memory of about 10 seconds. Be a goldfish.” In other words, forget about those mistakes and move on. Live in the now.
          An unflappable optimist, Ted never seems to notice how the odds are stacked against him. Instead, he remains a decent human being, reliably doing the right thing, while flashing his trademark ear-to-ear grin. As he says to Rebecca’s ex-husband during a game of darts – “Be curious, not judgmental.”
          One of Ted’s earliest actions is to tape up a homemade, crudely lettered sign over the door of the team’s locker room. The crooked sign displays just one word – “Believe.” That’s the essence of Ted Lasso. He is a true believer.
          What Ted believes in is his team’s potential for victory. The question for us is, if we taped the word “Believe” to our bathroom mirror, what exactly would we be reminding ourselves that we believe in?
          Life has a way of testing and revealing what we truly believe. With illness, suffering and grief, no human life – not even the life of a Christian – is free of soul-shaking experiences. Some of life’s crises arise quite suddenly. When faced with looming spiritual obstacles, how do we respond?
          Ted Lasso has a little advice to offer on that score. One of his many memorable sayings is “There’s two buttons I never like to hit – panic and snooze.”
          Think about that for a second. If you were to receive some terrible news tomorrow – a bad medical diagnosis, the death of a loved one, or the loss of a job – would you be inclined to hit the panic button and drop into a deep despair. Or would you hit the snooze button and pull the covers up over your head, and hope the problem just goes away?
          I can understand both responses – depending on the situation, I’ve hit both those buttons in my life. But maybe there’s an alternative. We can choose to hit another button, somewhere between panic and snooze. We can decide, in faith, to hit the “accept” button, and live into the new normal. Sure, there may be grief for the old normal that is no more – but we know those days are not coming back, not how we remember them, anyway. The hard truth is, the Lord has picked us up and dropped us off right into the middle of a new normal. So, what is there to do but unpack, arrange our clothes in the dresser drawer and make ourselves as comfortable as we can.
          In our passage for today from 2nd Corinthians, Paul talks about this new normal, without ever using that phrase exactly. He says
          “We are afflicted in every way – but not crushed.
          Perplexed – but not driven to despair.
          Persecuted – but not forsaken.
          Struck down – but not destroyed, always carrying around in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be visible in our bodies. For we who are living are always being handed over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our mortal flesh.”
          Paul doesn’t mince words here. He’s not like one of those prosperity preachers you might see on TV, who promise that if you just give your heart to Jesus, every good thing will come drifting your way – that you’ll never have any pain, difficulty or heartache, ever again.
          No, Paul is brutality realistic. Just look at the words he uses: “afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down.” No hint of a prosperity Gospel that I can see – just a frank acknowledgment that is hard, and sometimes very hard, for everyone, Christians included.
          But there is some good news. Such affliction is not forever. Eventually, we can grow to accept the new normal        . We can learn, in time, how to push that “accept” button between panic and snooze. We can claim the difficult experience as our own. And we can come to realize that, while life may knock us down sometimes, it can never, never, KEEP us down – not if we approach such obstacles with Christ by our side. As the writer Paulo Coehlos once said, “The secret of life is to fall 7 times and get up 8 times.” (1)
          Kate Bowler, a professor at Duke Divinity School has become an inspiration to many, not so much for what she has taught and written as an academic – but for her personal story as a survivor of colon cancer. Kate – at the time a young mother – was diagnosed at age 35 and was given just a few months to live.
          It turned out she did a lot better than expected and is still very much with us, but the experience changed her life. Ever since then, in addition to her teaching and research, she has spoken about her own experience claiming and owning the new normal.
          In an email devotional from 2021, Kate shares something Anthony of the Desert, a monk from Egypt, probably the most famous of the early monastics, once said. Kate was writing in the midst of the pandemic – which certainly forced a new normal on all of us for awhile. Someone asked Brother Anthony what we ought to do to please God.
       The ancient replied with a very simple piece of advice: “Wherever you go, keep God in mind. Whatever you do, follow the example of Holy Scripture. Wherever you are, stay there and do not move away in a hurry.”
          Kate Bowler commented: “What I hear in those instructions is to try to eliminate double-mindedness. BE WHERE YOU ARE. I know that’s not a favorite choice right now in that we are stuck in isolation behind masks – but it’s also a great permission slip. You don’t have to be extra, extra holy. You simply have to be where you are, and keep God in mind.”(2)
          That’s a pretty good motto for getting used to the new normal. Be where you are, and keep God in mind.
          There are many stories about Christians who find, amidst their new normal, new strength for living. One such story is about a now retired Episcopal priest from Massachusetts named Paul Bresnahan. Late in life, he found himself undergoing radiation treatments for prostate cancer.
          Sitting in the waiting room one day, accompanied by a friend and member of his congregation, Paul heard the technician call out his name. He quipped – for everyone to hear in the glum assembly to hear – “My turn to shine!” And the room erupted in laughter.
         “Who is that guy?” somebody asked.
          “That’s my parish priest,” answered Paul’s friend.
          Here’s what Father Paul wrote later on about that experience:
          “Inside the treatment facility, as I lay on the table with a giant metal fork rotating around me and beaming its rays within my body, I saw the hand of God and sensed a healing touch within me. I saw no vision other than the hand of science and medicine ministering to me out of the gifts God so generously bestows upon the caregiving community in my home city. The beaming rays of radiation give me the gift of healing and life, and I am brim full of gratitude.” (3)
          Brim full of gratitude. In the radiation suite? How is that possible?
          With that sort of faith, Paul articulates that it is indeed possible: “Afflicted, but not crushed, perplexed, but not driven to despair.” Battling cancer, but not without hope. It’s the gift of God to all who resolve to be where they are and keep God in mind.
          None of us get very far as survivors of one affliction or another by pretending that bad things don’t happen to good people. The reality is bad thing do happen – to anybody. Nor can we claim that God protects Christians from pain and struggle. But one thing most any Christian survivor of hard times learns from tough experiences is that, along with the affliction, God gives us what we need to get through difficult times. All of it is built on awareness and acceptance in faith of the new normal.
          Yes, there are losses in life. Accepting a new normal means bidding farewell to the old, knowing it may never really return in the same form. Countless survivors of health challenges, fires, floods and hurricanes had had to say farewell to their old homes and ways of life – but they have also learned to look forward rather than backwards, knowing that the life they are living is still a good life.
          We Christians are a resurrection people. We know that out of death comes new life. Out of a shattered, old normal comes a new normal. There’s still joy to be found, hope to be cherished and a resurrection faith that sustains and strengthens us.
          And for that, May God be praised. Amen.

1. Inspiringquotes, retrieved 5/23/24

2. Homileticsonline, retrieved 5/2/24

3. Ibid…

05-26-24 A Vision in the Temple

Thomas J Parlette
“A Vision in the Temple”
Isaiah 6: 1-8
5/26/24
          Have you ever had an experience where time seemed to stand still? For a moment, everything seemed perfect, everything in life fell into place and made sense – even if just for a few seconds. Time stood still, a veil was lifted and you knew your place in the universe.
          I had a moment like that when I was 13 years old. We were living in Downingtown, Pennsylvania, in the state of Eastern Pennsylvania – which by the way is very different than Western Pennsylvania, but I digress.
          For my birthday, my parents took me to see my first real, professional musical in Philadelphia. We went to see Man of La Mancha, when Richard Kiley was touring with the show after it finished its Broadway run. As soon as the overture started, I was hooked. And as soon as the lights came up onstage, time stood for me – and I have loved the theater ever since. Man of La Mancha is still my #1 favorite musical.
          The comedian Billy Crystal had a moment like that when his father took him to his first Yankees game. It was a beautiful late spring day, and Crystal vividly recalls how time stood still as he emerged from the tunnels and saw the field at the old Yankee stadium for the first time. The sky was so blue, it hurt your eyes, the smell of the grass was intoxicating. Everything was right with the world as Crystal and his father shared their first game in Yankee stadium together – and he’s been a devout Yankees fan ever since.
          Bill Carl, a former President of Pittsburgh Seminary, had a somewhat similar experience. He was riding the bus in Pittsburgh one day and noticed a large, elderly, white woman trying unsuccessfully to reach down and tie he shoe. She strained forward, but she just couldn’t reach it. Across from her sat a young black man with wild hair and tattoos up both arms, listening to music on his phone. He watched the woman struggling to tie her shoes for a moment, then he knelt down in front of her. Carl watched as the young man tied her shoes gently in a nice, neat knot, then grin up at her. She nodded and smiled and mouthed the words, “Thank You.” No words were spoken. Carl says, “The scene glowed before me like a bright painting that blocked out everything else happening on the bus. When the spell broke, I looked around and saw everyone on the bus beaming with joy.” For that moment, time stood still.
          The prophet Isaiah once had a moment like that too. “In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord,” says Isaiah.
         This is a mysterious passage we have before us this morning – full of curious images and the mist of incense in the air, as we consider with Isaiah this otherworldly vision of God in the Temple.
          And that is appropriate, because this is Trinity Sunday – the Sunday that rolls around every year when ministers across the country from all denominations, struggle to explain one of the great mysteries of the Christian faith – the highly complex, theological idea that God is three in one. “God in three persons, blessed Trinity”- as the old hymn says.
          There have been lots of attempts to simplify this concept of the Trinity. Many people have tried over the years to offer up their own versions that would capture the richness of the image in a simple way. Some I have heard are ones like:
          God the Father, is the One who is over us,
          God the Son, is the One who was with us,
          And God the Spirit, is the One who remains with us.
I like that one – that’s a good way of explaining it.
Another I’ve heard is:
          God the Father, is the God of the Old Testament,
          God the Son, is the God of the New Testament,
          And God the Spirit, is the God of Today.
Not bad, it’s an interesting way to think about the Trinity, but perhaps it puts a little too much importance on the Spirit, and not enough on God and Jesus Christ.
Another way of thinking about the Trinity is:
         God, as the Creator,
          The Son as the Revealer or Redeemer,
          And the Spirit as the Companion or Sustainer.
That’s probably my favorite way of describing the Trinity – God as Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer.
          This passage from Isaiah is often cited as a cornerstone text in the theology of the Trinity. Nowhere does Isaiah expressly use the word Trinity, or refer to God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But if we read carefully, we do see God wearing three different hats in this passage:
         God, the unknowable mystery,
          God, the incarnate being who forgives and saves us,
          And God, the One who calls, commissions, sends and supports us in our prophetic calling.
          But standing with Isaiah in the Temple this morning, we can’t help but be overwhelmed with the sheer mystery of God, the utter holiness of the Lord.
          Indeed, Isaiah’s favorite way of referring to the first person of the Trinity, God the Creator, is as “The Holy One of Israel.” This hidden, Holy One, shrouded in mystery, comes to us in glances and whispers, always dwelling in obscurity, never quite showing the full divine nature.
          There was once a pastor who wanted to teach a group of young children about this mysterious, holy aspect of God. He led the group to the door of the sanctuary, and before entering, the Pastor stood silently until they all qui9eted down. Speaking in no more than a whisper, he said, “We’re going into a very special room. You must be completely quiet. I don’t want to hear a sound as we walk into that room, because God is in there.”
          Then the Pastor pushed open the door of the sanctuary. As they walked in a sat down, you could hear a pin drop. They all held their breath as they gazed up at the stain glass windows, the vaulted ceilings and the rose window, one just like ours. There was a holy hush in the room as they felt a little bit of the mysterious holiness of God.
          But despite the unknowable aspect of God in three persons, take note of what happens to Isaiah in this story. Especially notice where and when this encounter takes place. This vision happens in the Temple, in the Sanctuary. This vision occurs in the form of a worship service.
          First, Isaiah sees the Lord, he becomes aware of the presence of the Holy One. Adoration and praise are offered as the seraphim sing:
          “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Hosts.
          The whole earth is full of his glory.”
Very similar to what we do each week in our Call to Worship.
          Isaiah’s response to this awareness of the holiness of God? He confesses his sinful nature.
          “Woe is me, I am unclean, I am not worthy to stand before God.”
Again, something we do every week in our prayer of confession.
          Then one of the seraphs flies over to Isaiah with a hot coal and touches his mouth, saying, “your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” Isaiah has been forgiven, assured that he has received God’s grace – Words of Life to be sure.
          Then the voice of the Lord, the Word of God confronts Isaiah, “Whom shall I send, who will go for us?” – just as God’s Word confronts, challenges, comforts, assures and challenges us each week in scripture, sermon and affirmation of faith.
          And finally, this model of worship ends with commitment. “Here am I, send me,” just as worship service ends with an offering of our gifts to God and a challenge to walk in God’s ways as we leave this sanctuary.
          The point of all this? Yes, God is mysterious. Yes, God is, to a large degree, unknowable. Even our best efforts in developing this idea of the Trinity to describe God falls short.
          But God still comes to us. God comes to us in our worship. This worship time is the meeting ground between the human and the Divine. In this space, we are confronted with God’s holy presence. We offer our adoration and our praise. We are forgiven and receive assurance of God’s grace. We are comforted and challenged by God’s word. In this space, we are then commissioned to go forth and live holy lives, imitating the Holy One of Israel.
          This is why I think it’s especially appropriate that we recognize and bless our graduates today – for they now venture forth in their lives, commissioned to live their lives for God in whatever profession they choose, acting in the world for good.
          As Dag Hammerskold once said, “In our era, the road to holiness necessarily passes through the world of action.”
          The Russian writer Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev would agree when he wrote, “To desire and expect nothing for oneself – and to have profound sympathy for others – is genuine holiness.”
          The Holy life that we are called to imitate is not “ME- centered.” It is “OTHER –centered.” It is “GOD – Centered,” fulfilling both the Great Commandments – to love God and love your neighbor.
          The Holy life is not lived in gloomy isolation, hidden away from the world. The Holy life is lived in the world, while we remain not of this world.
          The Holy life is as Frederic Huntington once wrote, one in which “religious principle is put into action. Holiness is faith gone to work.”
          As Thomas Merton once said, “The Holy one wants to be a window through which God’s mercy shines on the world.”
          Isaiah’s vision in the Temple confronts us with the presence of the unknowable God who comes to us in glances and whispers. This vision in the Temple assures us that God comes to us in our worship to comfort us and challenge us. Isaiah’s vision also reminds us that when we experience the presence of God, time stands still and we are changed forever. We are called, commissioned and sent to live Holy Lives, imitating the Holy One of Israel.
          So whether you are just graduating or whether you’ve been laboring in the world for many years now – when the Lord asks, “Whom shall I send? – may we be moved to answer, “Here am I, send me.”
          May God be praised. Amen.

04-28-2024 No Matter Which Way the Wind Blows...

 Thomas J Parlette
“No Matter Which Way the Wind Blows…”
1st John 4: 7-21
4/28/24
          Well, the reviews are in…
          “The Yankees game on opening day took 2 hours and 33 minutes,” said baseball fan Molly Knight on opening day, 2023. “The pitch clock is amazing.”
          “The greatest thing since the invention of baseballs,” said Neil Best.
          “The game has a cadence that would be familiar to Ted Williams and Sandy Koufax, unhurried but crisp,” said Ben Goldfarb. “I love it.”
          “The pitch clock is a big help, even if your team is terrible. I didn’t have to watch the Giants play for three hours. Instead, it took just 2 hours and 30 minutes for them to get shut out and lose,” said Giant fan Geoff Swartz.
          Echoing many others, Royce Young said, “It feels like I’m watching a new sport.” (1)
          Yes, the reviews are in – and they are good. The pitch clock has made baseball a whole new game.
          My apologies to all those who are not baseball addicts – I get it, I’m not a big fan either, but I did make an effort to watch some games with the new pitch clock rule. And it does make a difference.
          The pitch clock was introduced last year in an effort to make the game shorter and more exciting, because many younger fans just did not want to sit watching a game for 31/2 to 4 hours. And so far, it has worked out pretty well.
          Mark Leibovich has written in The Atlantic, “The pitch clock is a kind of pacemaker to re-regulate the game’s lagging heartbeat. Pitchers are now allowed just 15 seconds to begin their motion to deliver the ball to home plate, and hitters have to be set in the batter’s box by the 8 second mark.” (2)
          This might seem like a small adjustment, but it’s a radical change. Previously, pitchers could take as long as they wanted between pitches, and batters could shuffle around endlessly in the batter’s box. “The goal is to curtail dead time,” says Leibovich, “the endless velcroing and re-velcroing of batting gloves and strolling around the mound.”
          And the results seem worth it. We are seeing a whole new ballgame – one that is faster and more thrilling, depending on how into baseball you are, I guess.
          For centuries, God’s people lived by complex religious rules and regulations – The Ten Commandments, laws about clean and unclean foods, rules about ritual and moral holiness. The regulations went on and on and on, sometimes like a baseball game that lasts up to 4 hours.
          But then, God’s love was revealed in Jesus. The compassion and mercy of God became visible through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. This inspired John to offer a new rule to the followers of Jesus in the first century: “Let us love one another, because love is from God.” This change came from the discovery that love is the very heart of God’s will for our lives.
          And that’s a whole new ballgame.
          John knew that love had been part of God’s game for many years. In fact, the commandment, “you shall love your neighbor as yourself,” was first introduced in the book of Leviticus. But the game changed when God chose to put a human face – the face of Jesus – on the commandment. “God’s love was revealed among us in this way,” says John: “God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that God loved us, and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.”
          So why was this change necessary? Many people would say, “But we like the game the way it is!” The problem with the love commandment in Leviticus was that it could easily become a matter of endless philosophical debates, like discussions of baseball’s infield fly rule, which I can’t begin to understand. So, John changed the rule by attaching it to the sacrifice of Christ. Now, when we look at Jesus on the cross, we see the love of God for us. We discover that even before we could express our love, God showed love by sending Jesus to be an “atoning sacrifice for our sins.” Jesus died to show God’s love for us, and to restore the relationship with God that had been broken by our sin. Now, when we look at Jesus, we see God’s love revealed. We see the loving face of God.
          Like the introduction of the pitch clock, this change had a powerful effect. “Beloved, since God loved us so much,” said John, “we also ought to love one another.” Suddenly, the love of God in Jesus became more than a good idea. It became a vivid illustration of how we are to love.
          In addition, John found that God helps us when we attempt to love. “God abides in us,” says John, “and his love is perfected in us.” With this intervention, we can be confident that God is with us and working through us. Our love gets stronger because it is based on the activity of God. The New Testament professor  C. Clifton Black says “God’s love for us is the source of our power to love God and one another.” (3)
          “We love because God first loved us,” says John. God’s love is the source of our power, making it possible for us to love. The result, said John, is that those “who love God must love their brothers and sisters also.” When we show this kind of love, God’s love lives in us and God’s love is perfected in us.
          The rules began to change when God’s love was revealed in Jesus. With the arrival of Christ, the compassion and mercy of God became visible to the world. Then God promised to live in us and perfect his love in us, so that we would be able to love one another. This transformation occurred when John discovered that love is the heart of God’s identity. John captured this fact in three simple, but profound words: “God is love.”
          Once upon a time, there was farmer who installed a weather vane on top of his barn that was inscribed with the words “God is Love” – big and bold, so you could easily read it from the ground.
          One day, a traveler stopped by the farm and watched as the weather vane swung back and forth with the breeze. Then, with a bit of a smirk on his face, he asked the farmer, “Do you mean to say that your God is as changeable as the wind?”
          The farmer shook his head and replied, “No – what I mean to say is that no matter which way the wind blows, God is Love.” (4) God is love.
          Not only does Jesus reveal God’s love, but Jesus reveals that God is love. And that’s a game changer.
          In the novel City of Peace, a pastor named Harley Camden makes a visit to jail to see a Muslim inmate named Muhammad Bayati, who is accused of murdering his daughter. The two begin to talk about their beliefs, and Muhammad says “God is merciful and just.”
         “God is also love,” adds Harley. “Our Bible says that God is love.”
          Muhammad cocks his head slightly. “That’s different from our understanding. We have many names for God, but love is not among them.”
          “For Christians, love is at the core of who God is,” explains Harley. “God reveals his love by sending Jesus to bring us forgiveness and new life. And the response we are supposed to make is to love one another – a love that should be extended to friends, enemies, black, whites, Muslims, Jews and fellow Christians. It is supposed to come down to love. In fact, the Bible insists that those who say, “I love God” but hate their brothers and sisters, are liars.”
          “I would agree with that,” says Muhammad. “Loving God does require that we love the people around us.” (5)
          Richard Rohr has written that “People who know God well – mystics, hermits, those who risk everything to find God – always meet a lover, not a dictator. God is never found as an abusive father or a tyrannical mother; God is always a lover greater than we dared hope for. How different from the “account manager” most people seem to worship. God is the lover who receives and forgives everything.”
         “When we go into the Presence, we find someone not against us, but someone who is definitely for us! Mystics recognize someone else is holding them. People who pray always say, “Someone is for me more than I am for myself.” Prayer is being loved at a deep, sweet level. I hope everyone has felt such intimacy alone with God. I promise it is available to all. Maybe a lot of us just need to be told that this is what we should expect and seek. We’re afraid to ask for it; we are afraid to seek. It feels presumptuous. We can’t trust that such a love exists. But it does.” (6)
          Like baseball, religion is a change-averse environment. Many people of faith prefer to play by traditional rules and are nervous about innovations that run counter to their understandings. As Muhammad says to Harley, “We have many names for God, but love is not among them.”
          If we have multiple names for God, why do we need any more? Religion, like baseball, is not comfortable with change.
          Traditional baseball fans were not happy about the pitch clock when it was first proposed. “Baseball is a timeless game,” they would argue. “It is the only game without a clock, and it will last as long as it needs to last.” A clock was not part of their understanding, even though most of them wanted the game to move more quickly. “They craved more action and offense,” says Leibovich; “more balls hit into play; more doubles, triples and stolen bases.” (7)
          Finally came the innovation – the pitch clock. And it was a game changer. In the same way, John came along and said, “God is love,” changing the Christian faith forever. This assertion, “God is love,” is a powerful “pacemaker” to regulate our heartbeat, keep us spiritually healthy and inspire us to love one another, just as God has loved us. As Harley says to Muhammad, “It is all supposed to come down to love.
          Yes, love one another is the heart of the whole new ballgame. Because “God is love… those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.” To abide is to live or to dwell in something – to accept, observe and follow a particular path. For John, to love God is to love our brothers and sisters, and to abide in love is to abide in God with no distinction between the two. This is a whole new approach to faith, based on the love of God in Christ, and the love that God has for each of us.
          So, if you feel that your spiritual game has a lagging heartbeat – install the “God is love” pitch clock, and let it help you to love your brothers and sisters. This is a change that will draw you closer to God and to the people around you. It will focus you on the action, and keep you excited and engaged. Once you “love one another,” you’ll never want to go back to the way the game was played before.
          As that wise farmer said about his weather vane – “No matter which way the wind blows, God is Love.”
          May God be praised. Amen.

1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 4/1/24.

2. Ibid…

3. Ibid…

4. Ibid…

5. Ibid…

6. Ibid…

7. Ibid…

04-21-2024 Good Shepherd Sunday

Thomas J Parlette
“Good Shepherd Sunday”
John 10: 11-18
4/21/24
          There’s been a recent trend over the last couple of years of movies focusing not on people or events, but on name brand products. The blockbuster movie Barbie was the most popular film in the summer of 2023, followed by the Super Mario Brothers Movie, another film based on a product.
          After just two months, Barbie had sold $575 million worth of tickets across the country.
          It was “a children’s film made for adults,” said one reviewer, “done in a thoughtful and loving way.” Watching the movie was like finding an old doll in your parents’ house and discovering it had a message you. Even GI Joe had a series of live action movies based on the doll and accessories aimed at young boys.
          In fact, theaters and streaming services have been featuring more movies featuring products, such as Air, Tetris, Blackberry, and Flaming Hot. According to The New York Times Magazine, the movie Air told the story of Nike’s game changing sponsorship deal with Michael Jordan “and the world-conquering shoes that emerged from it.”
          The film Tetris did the same for a video game, while Blackberry told the history of a “Canadian tech company whose cellphone went extinct.” Flamin’ Hot was a drama about the creator of spicy red Cheetos, a snack food that many people find to be addictive.
          And there’s more on the way. Future product-based movies will focus on American Girl Dolls, Barney, Hot Wheels, the Magic 8 Ball, Rock’em Sock’Em Robots, Thomas the Tank Engine, and the card game Uno. (1)
          Not sure how you make a movie about Uno, but it should be interesting to find out!
          People are drawn to these movies because they trust the brands. Children grew up loving their Barbie dolls. I had GI Joe’s and Rock’Em Sock-Em Robots when I was a kid. The Super Mario Brothers video game was played by kids across the country. Air Jordans are still worn by teenagers and adults who idolized Michael Jordan – I have a pair, so I get it.
          And according to a recent survey, 46% of Generation Z say they love Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. (2) That is brand loyalty.
          But sadly, for the church in the United States today, the Christian brand is suffering. The Covid-19 pandemic prevented people from gathering for worship for more than a year, and many never got back in the habit. Church membership in the United States has fallen below 50% for the first time. “In addition,” reports CNN, “a cascade of headlines in recent years have stained the Church’s reputation, including sex abuse scandals, the spread of White Christian Nationalism; and the perception that the church oppresses marginalized groups…” (3)
          The Christian brand could use some polishing up.
          Fortunately, Jesus remains the most popular and recognizable aspect of our faith. If we are going to improve our standing in the community and our nation, we need to make sure we’re focused on his ministry and mission. While fewer than 50% of Americans have membership in a church today, a recent poll in the Episcopal Church reveals that 86% consider Jesus to be an “important spiritual figure.” (4) I’m sure the statistics would be much the same for the PCUSA.
          We need to align ourselves with the Jesus brand. That means being a church that acts like Jesus. Which brings us to this Good Shepherd Sunday.
          Jesus reveals his personal brand in the 10th chapter of John. He says, “I am the good shepherd,” using an image from the Middle East. He understands himself to be like the shepherd of Psalm 23, responsible for giving water, food and protection to his flock. But he goes even further than we might expect when he says, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”
          This is one of those verses that we’re so familiar with that it’s impact has been somewhat muted. Give up your life for a flock of sheep? How many shepherds would really do that? Not many. They might work hard for their sheep, lose sleep when they’re sick, maybe even fight off wild animals to protect them. But lay down their life for the sheep. No – that’s the mark of a truly sacrificial shepherd.
          Jesus then compares himself to a more typical caretaker of a flock. “The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.” We can understand the reaction of the hired hand, seems only sensible. Hey, I’m willing to work hard and lose sleep – but dying is not in my job description. I’m out of here. Which is exactly what Jesus says the hired hands will do, run away, because they do not care for the sheep.
          But Jesus is a very different kind of caretaker. He is committed to the Good Shepherd brand. Charles Dickens writes in his novel Nicholas Nickleby – “Family not only need to consist of merely those whom we share blood, but also for those whom we’d give blood.” (5)
          Jesus would give his blood for ours – he is the good shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep.
          What would it mean for us to be a church that acts like Jesus? We have to make changes, just as Barbie did when she said, “We fixed everything in the real world so that all women are happy and powerful.” Mission accomplished… right.
          Not exactly.
          As the church, we need to make changes in line with the Good Shepherd brand, beginning with a focus on personal relationships. For too, the church has been transactional, inviting people to join the church so that they will fill the pews, put money in the plate and volunteer for activities. But the Jesus brand demands a focus on relationships, between people and Jesus, people and God, and the people and one another.
          “I am the good shepherd,” says Jesus. “I know my own, and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father.” Here in the gospel of John, writes professor Gail O’Day, knowledge is not an intellectual category, “but is a category of relationship.” (6) Jesus does not simply know about us; Jesus knows us personally. He does not simply know about God; he knows God intimately.
          At the heart of the Christian faith is a web of relationships: Jesus knowing people, people knowing Jesus, God knowing Jesus, Jesus knowing God, God knowing people and people knowing God. Everything that matters in the church is based on these deep-spirited relationships, which give rise to all the good that the church can do in the world. These bonds can even lead to tremendous acts of sacrifice, as Jesus reminds us, when he says, “I lay down my life for the sheep.”
          One of the greatest gifts that the church can give the world is the gift of community. At a time in which isolation and loneliness are reaching epidemic proportions, a church can connect people in life-giving ways. “Over the past several months,” writes columnist E.J Dionne Jr. in the Washington Post, “an old truth has become new again: Houses of worship and other religious institutions play an essential role in promoting social connectedness, mutual aid and community building. What has brought this realization to life is widespread concern over the rise of loneliness and the decline of forces that pull communities together. With religious disaffiliation soaring, especially among younger Americans, there is reason to worry about secular alternatives to religion that are not growing fast enough to fill the void.” (7)
          He makes a good point. Congregations can overcome isolation and loneliness, provide regular social contact, serve as a community of support, provide meaning and purpose, encourage service and sacrifice, and motivate people to take action to improve the world around them.
          That is the Good Shepherd brand we promote on this Good Shepherd Sunday.
          Jesus also wants us to grow in relationship with people who are not yet a part of our congregation. He says, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.” I think that is Jesus challenging us to welcome those who might not be the same as we are, the ones who might be hard for us to understand, the ones who might make us comfortable. Jesus is also challenging us to welcome and include Christians from other parts of the world.
          Wherever you stand personally on the issue of immigration, the incorporation of immigrants is going to be an important part of the growth and vitality of the church in the future. Immigrants from the Southern Hemisphere are particularly important because they are coming from regions in which the church is growing rapidly. Our churches can actually benefit from their faith and enthusiasm if we are open to receiving them into our existing congregations.
          This passage today concludes with a connection between God’s love for Jesus and the willingness that Jesus showed to lay down his life. Jesus says, “I lay it down of my own accord. I have the power to lay it down, and I have the power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.” Jesus is returning to his earlier focus on sacrifice, but here he is making it clear that he giving of himself freely, for the good of others. In a world in which may people focus more on themselves than on their neighbors, the complete self-giving of Jesus is memorable and distinctive.
          Rodger Nishioka likes to tell the story about a wedding he once performed. The couple had decided to recite vows that each one had composed for the other. Neither of them knew what the other was going to say beforehand. The young man went first and told his bride to be how much he loved her and how much he looked forward to their life together, no matter what it might bring. He told her how she had already made him a better person and how he was going to strive every day to love her and honor her. Then he ended with a four-word phrase – “I am all in.” (8)
          In the same way, Jesus is “all-in” when it comes to his relationship with us.
        The Good Shepherd brand is based on sacrifice, on a deep relationship with people and with God, on the power of community, on a desire to reach new people, and on complete self-giving. In a world with so many competing religions, we need to focus on saying and doing what Jesus said and did. We need to be “all-in” as well.
          At one point in the Barbie movie, a wise woman tells Barbie an important truth: “Humans have only one ending. But ideas live forever.” She’s right. At the heart of the Christian faith is the Good Shepherd brand that we honor on Good Shepherd Sunday. That’s an idea that will live forever.
          May God be praised. Amen.
1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/26/24.

2. Ibid…

3. Ibid…

4. Ibid…

5. Inspiring Quotes, retrieved 4/8/24.

6. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3?26/24.

7. Ibid…

8. Rodger Y. Nishioka, Connections, Year B, Vol. 2, Westminster John Knox Press, 2020, p. 248

04-07-2024 Life After Easter

Thomas J Parlette
“Life after Easter”
Acts 4: 32-35
4/7/24
          In these post-COVID days, there has been a great deal written about finding ways to entice people back to church. So, here’s a question for you: If you were called upon to design a bumper-sticker slogan to get people to take a good look at coming to this church, what would you write?
          A few years back, the United Church of Christ came out with a marketing campaign that many of their churches used, built around the slogan, “God is still speaking.” I like that. It’s short, catchy, easy to remember - and I think it’s Oh so true.
          For many years, the United Methodist Church got a lot of mileage out of their slogan – “Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors.” I like that one too.
          There was a Baptist group a while back that tried “Be kind, be merry, be Baptist.” Good – but the word “merry” might not be the first one to pop in your mind when it comes to Baptists – but, it’s worth a try I suppose.
          You could also go with the old standby – “CH, blank, blank, CH: What’s missing UR.” Well besides the fact that lots of people have heard that one for a long time, it really doesn’t tell a prospective churchgoer anything about your church – it just uses the guilt angle. (1)
          Our own denomination – the PCUSA – doesn’t really have a slogan. The closest thing might be “Reformed and always reforming”, although that’s more a slogan for the Protestant Reformation in general, rather than the Presbyterian Church in particular.
          We might look to today’s scripture passage from Acts for a worthwhile slogan, right there in verse 33, which says, “Great grace was upon them all.” It’s kinda catchy – but I’m not sure how well it would work, because it uses a loaded theological term in there. Grace.
          Grace is one of those words we say a lot in church, but it is perhaps not widely known beyond our own doors. There are lots of meanings of the English word “grace.” It may suggest a graceful ballet dancer, effortlessly gliding across the floor. The term “social graces” might pop into your head. Or maybe you think of the “grace period” you might get before being assessed a late fee or have to begin paying off a loan. All good things.
          Our English word “grace” comes from the Latin “gratia”, which means “something pleasing.” In classical Greek and Roman mythology, there are three sister-goddesses, known as “the three graces.” They’re identified with charm, beauty, and creativity. Again, all good.
          The dictionary gives another meaning – favor. Now that gets us closer to the theological meaning of grace. If parents have a favored son or daughter – it usually means that they put that child on a pedestal. It’s the proverbial child-who-can-do-no-wrong.
          So too with the grace of God. God’s favored Son, of course, is Jesus, who is without sin – meaning he does no wrong. But God doesn’t put Jesus on a pedestal. Instead, Jesus ends up on a cross. The beneficiary of God’s favor that dreadful day is not actually God’s Son Jesus, but us. We are God’s favored one because we are the beneficiaries of God’s grace.
          In our passage from Acts for today, or we could call it Luke, Part 2, we get a glimpse of what life was like in the early Christian community after that first Easter.
          I wonder how many of you recall the opening scenes from the 1970’s sitcom “All in the Family.” As the show opened, the viewer was in a car driving slowly through a neighborhood of neat, bungalow houses. In the background, a man and woman, Archie and Edith Bunker, belt a song around an upright piano – “Boy, the way Glenn Miller played. Songs that made the hot parade. Guys like us we had it made. Those were the days!” That theme song set the stage for the show, in which Archie Bunker struggled with all the changes in modern society, while longing for a world in which things were clearer, simpler and easier to understand – the good old days, as they say. (2)
          There is a bit of that kind of nostalgia at play in this passage, as Luke recalls that the Christian community were of “one heart and soul and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.”
          I remember a time when I was leading a bible study on Acts, and when we came to this passage, a couple of people got pretty irate, because they thought this passage made it sound like Christianity was like communism, or at the very least socialism. And they stormed out, saying, “That’s not the Bible I know.”
          I admit, they had a good point – it does sound that way – especially when we read the NRSV.
          But in other translations, like the New International Version or the New American Standard Bible, the aspect of sharing is what is emphasized. The notion of “no private property allowed”, changes into the early Christian community willing to share their individual resources to provide for those in need.
          That isn’t communism or socialism – it’s showing love for your neighbor, which is exactly what Jesus told us to do. So it’s reasonable to conclude that the early church aspired to the practice of generously sharing resources rather than a hard and fast communal ownership of property.
          This portrayal of life after Easter shows the Christian community doing their best to live out their resurrection hope. The grace that has been extended to them through Jesus death and resurrection allows them to approach others with a sense of grace – and they begin with those closest to them, their fellow believers.
          Our human nature tells us that people ought to get what they deserve – “if you do the crime, you do the time” sort of thinking. That’s the way we think life works. The Franciscan theologian Richard Rohr calls this approach the “economy of merit.” (3) Those who have merit can expect good things in life, and those who don’t can expect punishment. That’s only fair right?
But life after Easter can be lived a different way, with a different attitude. After Easter, we can make a switch from the economy of merit to the economy of grace.
Granted, that switch does not come naturally, it’s a hard thing to do – especially for those of those who tend to be our own harshest critics. We don’t need people judging us or telling us we’re bad people – we’re already convinced of that. At times we are so busy judging ourselves, it can be impossible to extend grace to others.
Here’s how Richard Rohr describes the revolutionary power of grace:
“It is God’s magnificent jailbreak from our self-made prisons, the only way that God’s economy can triumph over our strongly internalized merit badge system. Grace is the secret, undeserved key, by which God sets us free.” (4)
Living the way Luke portrays these early disciples was a radical witness and a challenge to the society of that time. After Easter, they had a new perspective on the meaning and purpose of worldly possessions: in the light of the resurrection life “things” were for meeting needs. Need trumped greed. Grace trumped merit.
The image of a community so at one in heart and mind that not even physical possessions would be spared in the face of need, shows us an absurd picture of a people whom many might accuse of being naïve, maybe communist, or even socialist, or just plain dumb with poor judgment. But that is how resurrection words and lives will always look to a world that lives in fear, isolation and individualism.
We don’t really have a good analogy for resurrection in our life experience. We preachers point to examples like the return of spring, or butterflies emerging from the cocoons, or baby chicks that crack open their shells to explain resurrection and new life.
But today, we have a different image to draw upon, from a people willing to live as a resurrection community, displaying the grace they have received through Jesus death and resurrection. We would do well to risk becoming a resurrection community, as well. I think the poet Wendell Berry got it right in his “Mad Farmer’s Manifesto”:
So, friends, every day do something
That won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the World. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
The flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all who cannot
Understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
Has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers…
Practice resurrection. (5)
That is life after Easter. We are called to practice resurrection.
We are called to live out the grace we have received, displaying our unity as Christians, and demonstrating generosity to those in need.
So, as we gather at the table with our risen Lord – let us practice resurrection.
May God be praised. Amen.

1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
2. Cynthia M. Campbell, Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol.2, Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p382.
3. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
4. Ibid…
5. Andre Resner, Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2, Westminster John Knox Press, p393.

03-31-2024 An Unscheduled Stop - Easter Sunday

Thomas J Parlette
“An Unscheduled Stop”
John 20: 1-18
3/31/24, Easter
          I recently heard about something new, at least to me. The major airlines, like Delta, American, United and Southwest among others are up in arms about an increase in what is called skiplagging passengers. The fine print of a passenger’s ticket forbids the practice. The airlines are threatening to impose a lifetime ban on travelers who get caught skiplagging flights. They also warn that they’ll take away the culprit’s frequent flier miles. In some cases, they rage about taking the crafty customer to court.
          So what is skiplagging anyway? It’s a sneaky way to travel to your real destination while pretending you’re going somewhere else. It’s called hidden city ticketing. Let’s say you want to travel from Seattle to Phoenix. Instead of buying an expensive nonstop flight to Phoenix, you buy a one-stop trip to Oklahoma City, or Dallas or New Orleans – but the one stop is in Phoenix. Since Phoenix is where you really want to go – you get off. You make sure you have no checked bags and away you go. You paid for the flight, and it’s cheaper for some crazy reason than buying a nonstop flight that ends in Phoenix.
          Naturally, an online search will bring up lots of websites that will help passengers find skiplagging opportunities that can save them anywhere from 20 dollars to 100 dollars. (1)
          So maybe you learned a little something new – I sure did.
          In the gospel reading for today, there’s also some traveling going on. There’s definitely a traveler – Jesus. And he’s not where he’s supposed to be, at least not where everyone thought he was going to be. Everyone – his disciples, the religious leaders, the Roman government and the guards at the tomb – are up in arms. The tombstone is rolled away, and Jesus is not where he was supposed to be.
          Jesus is on the move, and his final destination is eternal glory at the right hand of God.
          But first, Jesus skiplags and stops over to visit some friends.
          Of course, unlike true skiplaggers, he will ultimately continue on to his final destination. So, Jesus’ experience is more like an extended transition or pass-through – and unscheduled stop, if you will. Call it a multi-destination trip or an extended stay. Jesus had about 50 days left on his earthly visa, and come Pentecost, he will be taking off on the final leg of his remarkable journey among us mortals.
          So, why has Jesus decided to make this unscheduled stop for a few weeks with his followers?
          Let’s set the scene of what happened on Easter morning. Peter and John race to the tomb after getting word from Mary Magdalene that the body was gone. John beats Peter to the tomb, but he doesn’t go in. Peter arrives, and he goes in. Mary was right! Jesus is gone. John went inside, and he saw and believed, that is he now knew with certainty that Mary was right, she wasn’t just being hysterical. The Bible says, “Then the disciples returned to their homes.”
          A bit hard to believe. They just went home? Not a big deal, I guess. Perhaps they assumed that graverobbers or the Roman guards had made off with the body – happened all the time. It was out of their control. Jesus was dead anyway. The whole city was abuzz about it. Remember what Cleopas, one of the two disciples walking toward Emmaus, said to Jesus, whom they didn’t recognize at the time: “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know these things that have taken place?” Everyone knew what had happened, and they also knew that reports were circulating that something had happened to Jesus’ body.
          You can almost hear Cleopas breathlessly tell the story: “Some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and they did not find the body, they came back and told us they had seen a vision of angels who said that Jesus was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see Jesus.”
          In Luke’s account of the resurrection, the disciples have gathered in Jerusalem, along with the companions, as well as the two men Jesus encountered on the road to Emmaus. Suddenly Jesus popped unannounced into the midst, saying “Peace be with you.” Of course, they were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. They thought that Jesus was dead, yet here he was asking them for something to eat. They fumbled around, found some broiled fish and they ghost ate in their presence.
          Why did Jesus do this? Why scare his followers with surprise pop-in visit? Why doesn’t Jesus just fly off to his ticketed destination, instead of getting off early to visit his friends and followers?
          What is striking about the post-resurrection events is Jesus’ insistence – and persistence – in dispelling the notion that he was a figment of their imaginations. He is so adamant about this that he’s a little over the top. He goes to great lengths to prove that he is not an apparition, or a ghost. He quickly establishes the physicality of his presence. “Look at my hands and my feet.” He said to them. “see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost doesn’t have flesh and bones as you see I have.” At this point he shows them his hands and his feet, wounds and all.
          Years later, the apostle Paul and all the Gospel writers – especially John – would adamantly insist that the Jesus they knew was a real human being, a person of flesh and blood, who ate and drank with them, who laughed and cried with them, who got tired and angry sometimes and even experienced temptation, although he never succumbed to it.
          For example, the writer of First John begins his first letter with unequivocal assertion: “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life – this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it.” Then he adds, “By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God.”
          So, Jesus has a ticket for heaven, but he gets off early in Jerusalem to see friends. Why? Here’s why – to demonstrate that his post-resurrection body was a body of flesh and blood. He was no ghost, He was the real deal, fully human and risen from the dead.
          From the time of Jesus’ resurrection to his ascension into heaven, approximately 50 days passed. During this time, Jesus had conversations with hundreds of people. The first person he saw was a woman – Mary Magdalene. He also saw Mary the mother of James, Salome, Joanna, Peter and the two men on the road to Emmaus. Later, Jesus confronts Thomas and shows the doubting disciple the stigmata – the scars on his hands and feet and the gash in his side. Whereupon Thomas pretty much tells the Lord, “I get it, I get it, too much information, I believe!
          Later, Jesus would have breakfast with seven disciples on the Sea of Galilee. There is no record that Jesus had a reunion with his mother – but it’s hard to believe that he wouldn’t have sought her out. Paul tells us that Jesus appeared to more than 500 hundred brothers and sisters at one time.
         The question is – “Why are these appearances and his real physical presence important?”
          Some of the answers are due to what was going on in the world of idea in the ancient Greco-Roman era. Then, too, we must consider theological answers as well. Finally, there’s the matter of what Jesus’ humanity means to us, and all people of every day and age.
          First, let’s consider the ancient world. In what’s known as the Hellenistic culture of Jesus day, Plato was the star in the philosophical universe of ideas and the cosmos. One of his assertions was, to put it simply, that matter was bad, if not downright evil. It was absurd in Plato’s view, to think that what was divine and therefore good would become matter or flesh. For him, the Incarnation was laughable. And, so was the Crucifixion. The apostle Paul acknowledges as much when he writes that the divine crucified was “foolishness to the Gentiles.” So false teachers in the early church – nurtured on Greek philosophy – suggested that Jesus only appeared to be human. He wasn’t really human. It was against that sort of teaching that Paul and John both reacted so strongly against and explains why the Bible mentions Jesus eating and drinking like a normal hungry and thirsty person.
          Next, let’s consider theology. The Bible says that “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.” Jesus is described as the Agnus Dei – the lamb of God. It was a metaphor that every Jew in Jesus’ day understood. If there was to be any atonement for a person’s sins, or the sins of the world for that matter, there will be a ram in the thicket or a sacrificial lamb for the altar. In essence, the Bible insists that there will be blood involved. The Christ must be human, as Saint Anselm of Canterbury would later explain in his book Cur Deu Homo.
          And finally, what does it mean for us and the world. It means, quite simply, Jesus is our brother. The Bible stresses that Jesus was one of us. The writer of Hebrews explains: Jesus “had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect… Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.” The author continues: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.” The importance of this is what we can pray to Jesus because, as a national ad campaign suggest, “He Gets Us.”
          Sam Allberry, canon theologian with the Anglican Church in North America and a senior fellow at the Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics, puts it this way: “What we see in the Christian gospel is that Jesus didn’t just appear as a man out of thin air; Jesus didn’t beam down as a 30- year-old man and start his ministry. Jesus coded himself into human DNA. He was fetus in a womb. He was a baby in his mother’s arms. He was a toddler who would have stumbled around as he figured out how to walk and all the rest of it. He was a teenager; he would have gone through puberty. He was a 30—something-year-old man. So, he didn’t just experience a taste of humanity – he experienced the fullness of what it means to be physically human.”(2)
          In today’s reading, Mary Magdalene has the most touching encounter with the post – resurrection Jesus. She was weeping among the olive trees in the garden. Jesus found her. She was confused, she didn’t recognize – she supposed he was the gardener, and begs for the body. The Jesus spoke – “Mary.” And her eyes were opened and she saw Jesus. She went back to the disciples and announced, “I have seen the Lord.”
         Isn’t that what we all want – to see the Lord? That’s why we are gathered here today – for an experience of the Risen Christ.
          Jesus’ detour en-route to the right of God served a purpose. It serves to prove that Jesus is one of us. The disciples thought they were seeing a ghost. But they were wrong. He was one of them – fully human, fully divine, risen from the dead. So, I invite you to put aside any lingering doubts you might have about this remarkable story of death defeated and experience the wonder and the power of the resurrected Christ.
          Today is Easter! Christ is Risen, Alleluia. Alleluia. Amen.
          Will you join me…
1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
2. Ibid…

03-28-24 Worth Remembering - Maundy Thursday

Thomas J Parlette
“Worth Remembering”
John13: 1-17, 31b-35
3/28/24, Maundy Thursday
          Philosophers and anthropologists have long debated over what makes human beings different from other creatures. It isn’t our ability to build our own shelter – birds and beavers both build their own houses. It isn’t over use of tools either – many animals use tools. Even a simple seagull can employ a rock to open a shell. We aren’t different because we organize ourselves into societies. Ants have an elaborate social structure, including “hospitals for their sick, and “nurseries” for their young. Nor is it our use of language that sets us apart. Whales and dolphins have sophisticated language as well. It isn’t even our larger brain. Dolphins actually have bigger brains than ours, in comparison with their bodies.
          There are lots of things that human beings have in common with other creatures. But one thing that sets up apart is the act of remembrance. Human beings are the only creatures I know that both remember and honor their dead. I have seen stories about faithful dogs that won’t leave their owners sides and they have attended their funerals. But when it’s over, it’s over, and even man’s best friend moves on. I’ve also read stories about elephants, coming upon the dead body of another elephant, will stop and touch it with their trunks, and trumpet loudly, as if mourning the loss, sometimes for hours. But then they move on.
          Only human beings erect mausoleums and tombstones to keep the memory of a loved one alive. We are the only species who endow colleges, hospitals, libraries, parks and scholarships in a loved one’s name. Remembrance seems to be one of the things that is truly unique to human beings.
          We don’t want to forget our loved ones. And we ourselves don’t want to be forgotten either. In a cemetery in Hiawatha, Kansas, there is a strange tribute to one man’s desire to be remembered. John M. Davis was a wealthy but eccentric local farmer. His wife had died decades before him, in 1930. Soon after her death, Davis began commissioning a series of statues, using Kansas granite and later, Italian marble. The statues depicted important scenes in Davis’ life.
          The Davis memorial is large, impressive and expensive – but it draws a lot of visitors to Hiawatha, Kansas. Davis sought to be remembered – and he is, as a bit of a curious man, maybe even an oddball. But he is remembered.
          Human beings remember. We all want to be remembered. What did Jesus ask for us as remembrance? Jesus wrote no books. He established no organization. He chose no clear successor. He built no memorials.
          No, the way Jesus wanted to be remembered was through a simple act. On the night before he died, he gathered his twelve closest followers together in what I imagine was a smoky, dimly lit room, a floor or so above the busy streets outside. Those gathered were mostly poor, mostly uneducated, mostly unsophisticated and usually unreliable individuals. One of them was a betrayer and one of them was a denier and all of them would abandon Jesus in the end. But Jesus knew all this already. Still, he entrusted his life’s work and his memory to them, in the simple act of communion.
          “This is my body broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
This cup is the new covenant, sealed by my blood. Drink this in remembrance of me.”
          No building, no books, no structure, no successor. Just bread and wine. Doesn’t seem like much, does it? Yet, some 2000 years later, we still do this in remembrance of him.
          Tonight, as we receive communion, let us remember Jesus.
Let us remember the character of his life.
Let us remember his prayerfulness, how he got up early and stayed up late, to pray to God.
Let’s remember his gentleness, how he called little children to himself.
Let us remember his joy and enthusiasm for life that was infectious.
Let’s remember how he resisted temptation and never gave in to sin.
Let us remember his concern for the sick, the needy and the forgotten
Let us remember how he spoke for what he believed.
Let’s remember his courage in the face of death.
Let’s remember how, when he was dying, he prayed for his enemies.
Let us remember how he was obedient to God, even though it meant suffering and death.
          When we share the bread and the cup, as he asked us to, and remember, we are remembering the purest, best and most remarkable human being that ever lived. Let us remember Jesus’ life.
          Let us also remember he willingly gave up his life for our sake. In Norway there is a small church known as The Church of the Lamb. Its steeple is topped, not with a cross, but with a wooden carving of a lamb. Not an uncommon symbol for Jesus – but that’s not why is lamb is on their steeple. It seems that as the church was being built, a crew of workers was up on the roof. One man lost his footing and slipped off the roof.
          He might have been killed, except at that precise moment a flock of sheep were being driven past the church. This unfortunate workman, fell on top of one of the sheep, which broke his fall and saved his life. But the sheep was killed. Later when the church was completed, the congregation put a carving of a sheep up on the steeple – to be reminded of the animal itself, but also Jesus, known as the lamb of God.
          Jesus, not accidentally, but knowingly and willingly gave up his life for us all. This evening, as we receive the bread and cup, let us remember Jesus sacrificial death. But most of all, let us remember, sense, experience, and be guided by his continued presence with, in this supper shared in memory of him.
          That, my friends, is something worth remembering.
          May God be praised. Amen.

03-17-24 A Bit of Street Theater - Palm Sunday

Thomas J Parlette
“A Bit of Street Theater”
John 12: 12-16
03/24/24, Palm Sunday

          Golf is a sport that is known for some great nicknames.
          Jack Nicklaus was The Golden Bear.
          Ernie Els was The Big Easy for his height and his slow, smooth swing, easy-looking swing.
          Craig Stadler was The Walrus, because with his enormous moustache and sizable girth, he kinda looked like a walrus.
          And then there was Arnold Palmer, simply known as The King.
          Baseball is not far behind in the nickname department.
         The immortal Babe Ruth was The Babe.
          Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco were once known as The Bash Brothers for the home run hitting.
          Frank Thomas was The Big Hurt.
          David Ortiz was known as Big Papi
          And then there was Reggie Jackson, known as Mr. October, because come World Series time, he brought his best.
          But I have to say, one of the best all-time nicknames in history has to be “Lionheart.” King Richard 1st of England earned that name because of his courage in battle. He was a fearsome warrior and led a crusading army to the Holy Land to try to recapture Jerusalem. He very nearly succeeded.
          But there were divisions in the ranks, and the Third Crusade fell apart. The French and the Germans didn’t get along with the English. Kind Richard left for home, and it was then that his adventure really began.
          Passing through Germany in disguise, his identity was uncovered. The German Emperor Henry VI threw him into prison. Henry declared he wouldn’t let Richard go until the people of England had raised the staggering sum of 150,000 marks. At today’s price of silver, that would be around 17 million dollars.
          It was literally a king’s ransom. When the King is in prison, the people pay the price.
          All over England, money was collected to buy King Richard out of prison. Taxes were increased by 25%. Gold and silver treasures from cathedrals and abbeys were confiscated and melted down to raise money.
         Finally, there was enough. King Richard went free, and his return home has been celebrated as the final scene of every Robin Hood ever made. (1)
          When Jesus entered Jerusalem, he too was hailed as a king. And, like Richard the Lionheart, Jesus would soon be thrown into prison.
          Yet, for Jesus, there was no ransom – neither asked for or offered. They hauled him before the chief priests and the scribes, and eventually before the Roman Governor, Pilate.
          Jesus didn’t cut a very kingly figure in Pilate’s courtyard. They stripped him and beat him. The only crown he wore was woven from pieces of a thorn bush.
          Pilate, being a practical sort of politician, saw no advantage in treating Jesus as a visiting head of state, despite what the people had been calling him as he entered the city. Had there been anyone willing, or able, to raise a king’s ransom for him, the governor might have taken a different approach. But this country rabbi who rode into town on a donkey had nothing. As far as Pilate was concerned, he was just a troublemaker and insurrectionist. Pilate had learned to nip these Judean revolutionary movements in the bud. And so, he offered the mob that cruel choice – Jesus or the bandit, Barabbas. They chose Barabbas. King Jesus went to the cross.
          It had all looked so different just a few days before. The sun was shining, the crowds were cheering, and the people were running to catch a glimpse of him, calling out: “Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord – the King of Israel!”
          What was on Jesus’ mind that day, as he allowed the people to make such a fuss over him? Usually, Jesus was pretty low-key, often directing his disciples not to say anything about the things he did. But now, amidst the cheers, Jesus didn’t contradict them. He didn’t say – “Me, a King? – no, I’m not the King you’re looking for.” No, he let the demonstration go on. He received the cries of adulation. He let the people lay their cloaks down on the road before him, a gesture of deference offered only to those of the highest rank. He let them go on waving palm branches, a politically provocative act, because palm branches had been the symbol of the Maccabean rebellion a century before. That revolt had succeeded for a brief time in throwing the foreign overlords out of Jerusalem.
          But this demonstration at the city gate was clearly not a serious invasion of Roman-held territory. Jesus had no army following behind him. He wore no victory wreath of victory on his head. He wasn’t riding a mighty war-horse, nor steering a chariot as you might expect a conquering hero to do.
          No, Jesus was perched atop a donkey like some country bumpkin, his feet almost dragging on the ground. And, as you may know, donkeys don’t’ always travel in straight line – they kinda go where they want. And sometimes, they stop altogether, dig in their heels and have to prodded along. Very likely, there was laughter in the crowd that day, as they watched this Nazarene rabbi make his zigzag way down the street.
          But despite the laughter, Jesus knew what he was doing. He was making it clear that he was no high-and-mighty general. He was a man of the people. Everyone could see that. But he was also doing something else that day. He was likely poking fun at the powers-that-be. He was gently mocking those in charge.
          Jesus’ triumphal entry has been called an exercise of revolutionary street theater. Merriam-Webster dictionary offers this definition of Street Theater: “A form of theatrical performance and presentation in outdoor public spaces without a specific paying audience, that often deals with controversial social and political issues.” (2) The drama of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem certainly fits that definition. Everybody back then knew what a kingly parade looked like. The Romans specialized in that sort of spectacle. Pontius Pilate himself undoubtedly climbed into a chariot at regular intervals and showed off the power of his troops.
          Everyone knew about the victory parades the Romans liked to mount after vanquishing their enemies. Those parades were famous for their pageantry. There were thousands of soldiers, marching rank-on-rank. You could hear them coming a long way off, with the beat of drums, the blare of trumpets, and the thunderous footsteps of legions marching row upon row. Each unit of men marched behind an imperial standard, a symbol perched high atop a pole. Often, that symbol was a brass or gilded Roman eagle displaying the letters “SPQR”- Latin initials that stood for “The Senate and the People of Rome.” (3)
          Back towards the end of the procession, there were huge war horses – snorting, stamping wild-eyed beasts bred for battle. They looked like they could break free at any moment and storm threw the crowd. Riding atop one of those horses, or perhaps rising in a chariot pulled by two or three horses, was Roman general, with a gleaming breastplate and a shiny helmet under his arm so he could display the olive wreath on his head – a symbol of triumph.
          Behind the general would be the battle-hardened troops, leading disheveled, defeated, prisoners of war. They had the wild look of a hunted animal in their eyes, for they knew they were not long for this world. After this parade ended, so would their lives – in a painful, violent act.
          Yes, the Romans knew their parades. They knew how to use them to show their power. The Romans knew that this kind of parade was an effective tool for communicating to the conquered people – “We are in command here. We are the Masters. The Emperor in Rome has power and glory like a god, and we are his chosen emissaries.
          And it worked. The Romans may not have said, “All the world’s a stage,” but their parades – effective stage presentations that they were – bore the unmistakable message: “All the world… is Rome’s”
          But, Jesus little bit of street theater was no competition for the Roman machine – as seen by the fact that Pilate sent no soldiers to bar his way. This was but a minor disturbance, a little kerfluffle at the edge of the city. The citizens who witnessed it were amused by this man who dared to make fun of the Roman overlords, but when you’re an overlord, you’ve got to be able to take a little ribbing now and again.
          No doubt there were informers in the crowd, roman agents hiding in the crowd to gauge the level of rebellion in this demonstration. But nobody really took it that seriously. But Jesus name had been noted. The Romans would keep this guy on their radar. And when, the next day, this same Jesus caused a disturbance at the Temple, disrupting the business activities going on there, well, something would have to be done about this man Jesus.
          Throughout this bit of street theater, Jesus makes it clear that he is a different sort of King.
         He is not the conquering king, riding into the city in triumph. No, he is a Suffering Servant King, just like Isaiah wrote about – “one who sets his face like flint,” then lays down his life for his subjects.
          Every other King dispatches soldiers into battle – to fight for his honor and the honor of the nation. But Jesus enters the battlefield – the city of Jerusalem – alone and unarmed, riding an animal of peace.
          Every other King plays the high-stakes game of thrones. Jesus is disarmingly simple and direct. He says what he means, and he means what he says.
          Every other King seeks to argue from a position of strength. Jesus seems to deliberately seek out a posture of weakness.
          Every other King upholds and embodies the law. France’s mightiest king – Louis the 14th, the Sun King – had a catchphrase: “L’etat c’est moi.” – “I am the State.” (4) But Jesus submits to the law, allowing himself to be crushed by it.
          A peculiar sort of King indeed, this Jesus of Nazareth. No wonder that Pilate will be baffled later this week when Jesus finally stands before him, uttering barely a word in his own defense.
          What Pilate doesn’t know – what no one knows, not even Jesus’ disciples – is that a ransom will be paid, but it’s going to be paid in reverse. The coming ransom will not be paid FOR Jesus, as it was for Richard the Lion-hearted. No, the coming ransom will be paid BY Jesus, for you and me, and the rest of the world. And the price will be be Jesus’ own blood.
         So, let us wave our palms today. Let us sing our hymns of victory. Let us cheer his triumphal entry and participate in this bit of street theater. But let us also be aware that, between the Hosannas of Palm Sunday and Alleluias of Easter, there is an arrest, a flogging, a trial – and ultimately, a cross.
          So let us be remember and be grateful for the kind of King who is willing to lay down his own life as a ransom for all.
          May God be praised. Amen.
1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
2. www.Merriam-webster.com, retrieved 3/17/24.
3. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
4. Ibid…

03-17-2024 Smelling Like a Rose

Thomas J Parlette
“Smelling Like a Rose”
Psalm 51: 1-12
3/17/24
          Of all the features of the human face, the nose probably gets the least respect. There are a myriad of poems written about silken hair, beautiful eyes and ruby red lips – but I don’t remember a single poem about the beauty of the nose.
But the jokes – yes, those abound. You’ve probably heard them before:
-         When I’m lying down, it looks like a sundial.
-         My nose is so big that when I do the backstroke, the lifeguard had the beach evacuated, thinking it was a shark.
-         My nose is so big that when I sneeze, everyone runs for cover.
         My nose arrives at my destination 10 minutes before I do. (1)
If you’d like to hear more, google that old Steve Martin movie “Roxanne” for that classic scene where he turns the tables on some guy in a bar who teases him about his nose.
     While it may not be beautiful, the nose is critical for our sense of smell. There’s a whole area of science dedicated to smell called the science of olfaction – the detection and identification of airborne chemicals and scents. Olfaction research is a rapidly growing discipline that not only studies how we recognize the whiff of a dead skunk lying on the side of the road, but also studies the ever-creative ways humans have of making themselves or their surroundings smell good.
     The science of smell is more than a reference to the ointments, creams, lotions, sprays and gels that ensure our armpits and feet are not offensive, or that your perfume or cologne is not overpowering. It is also about how we can live in an environment that is fragrant, healthy and olfactory-positive for those delightful nasal receptors that tell us when chocolate chip cookies are baking in the oven, or that heavenly smell when we walk into a bakery. (2)
     One’s sense of smell is so powerful that it can evoke long-held memories and be an aid to learning and memory retention, especially for those who are aging. In a recent study, participants were given a machine that released a brief spray of rose, orange, eucalyptus, lemon, peppermint, rosemary and lavender scents during sleep. The researchers then discovered that there was a 226 % improvement on a learning and memory test among those who “slept with a strong nightly scent compared with those that diffused distilled water every night.”  (3) So pleasing aromas can help you sleep. I suppose the opposite might be true as well – bad smells are hard to live with.
     In the Psalm before us today, almost always attributed to King David – David addresses a problem with his stinky behavior that is keeping him up at night.
     The King of Israel has done something bad – something that stinks to high heaven. It’s been a long time since he has smelled like a rose. Instead, he is more of a walking landfill, a toxic waste site.
     It’s an apt metaphor. The United States has 3,091 active landfills and more than 10,000 old municipal landfills, according to the Environmental Protection Agency, and most of them leak. (4) In some ways, this is David’s problem here in Psalm 51 – he knows he has a sin problem, and the problem of sin is that it leaks out and pollutes others.
     Landfills are basically bathtubs in the ground with liners and double-liners and so on. They can leak out the bottom or over the top, and towns like to locate their landfills far away. Which is precisely what David tried to do – keep his dirty little secrets hidden and out of sight where we think no one will notice. But, of course, it never works out that way.
     David’s behavior is stinking up the place and he knows it. He wants his life to smell like a rose again. He wants that fragrance that comes with being blessed by God. He wants the still waters of peace and green pastures of posterity to return.
     This is the key to the Psalm – David’s search for peace. And the key elements of this quest are confession, repentance and restoration.
     Verses 1-5 is where we see David’s confession. “I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me,” he cries. He has sinned against God, and what he has done is “evil in your sight.” He says that God has every right to “pass judgment” and sentence him to a punishment that is severe and just.
     David is right. His crimes were evil, and callous and selfish. You remember the story of Bathsheba, David’s beautiful neighbor. He sees her bathing on a nearby rooftop, and he is overcome with desire. So he arranges to have her husband sent to the front lines of the most dangerous battle – a suicide mission to be sure. He, in effect, has him murdered. David’s conduct was evil and if he were alive today in the United States, he probably would have been given several life sentences without parole or maybe even the death penalty in some places
     But he was honest in his confession about what he had done. And that’s a good thing. Martin Luther once observed that whoever first called Psalm 51 a “Penitential Psalm” knew what he was doing. The claim that Psalm 51 has been used in full or in part more often in worship and devotion than any other scripture is probably true. (5) We see this Psalm every year, more than once, in Advent and Lent, our two great seasons of confession and repentance.
     Now, I’m pretty sure none of us here has done something as bad as King David did – at least I hope not. But the Bible does urge us to confess our sins, whatever they may be. That can be the starting point for refreshing our lives. Consider the words of another piece of scripture, this from Proverbs 28:13: “No one who conceals transgressions will prosper, but one who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.”
     There is no doubt that David, considering his body of work in the Psalms and his close relationship with Samuel, the last ruling Judge of Israel, knew the scriptures. He knew he had to own up to his misdeeds.
     David moves on from confession to repentance in verse 6, and his pleas continue through verse 11. But the word “repent” doesn’t appear even once. In fact, the English word “repent” doesn’t appear very often in the Old Testament, less than a dozen times and that’s if you’re reading the King James Version. But the Hebrew word for “repent” or “repentance is a form of “shuv”, meaning “turn, and it occurs more than a 1,000 times in the Hebrew Bible. In the New Testament, the Greek word for repentance is “metanoia”, which essentially means to change one’s mind. (6)
     Think of Psalm 51 like a courtroom scene from Law or Order or a show like that. The trial is over, and the judge asks the convicted felon of there is anything he wants to say before the sentence is imposed. Psalm 51 is that statement. It is David, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, standing at one of those long, legal tables and addressing the judge. It begins with confession, and now, David starts to change his mind, he starts to turn in verse 6, expressing remorse and contrition. It’s an about-face for the proud and arrogant man who had formerly strutted and preened before a sunbathing married woman and who had later conspired to bring about the death of his rival for her affections. That person is gone. Now, David wants a total makeover of his spiritual house. He wants to rid himself of his foul smelling deeds, and restore the scent of God’s loving kindness. He uses words like “purge”, and “clean” and “wash”. He wants to be “whiter than snow.”
     When we turn from sin, we can ask God, as David does, to “hide your face from my sins.” In this psalm he comes straight to the point: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” Clearly, David is doing something more than saying he’s sorry. He wants to do-over. He wants a make-over. He wants to be a new person, a new creation. He wants a fresh start, a new beginning. He is at the turning point we call repentance. The confessor is ready to turn, leave behind their former life and set off on a new path of restoration.
     Restoration is never an easy road. Our personal relations and our human-Divine relationships are fragile and complex, prone to misunderstandings, conflicts and ultimately possible dissolution. Whether it’s a friendship, a romantic partnership, a family tie or even a professional relationship – no connection is immune from strain.
     However, just as relationships can be damaged, they can also be repaired and revitalized, especially after taking the first steps of confession and repentance.
     David seeks a reconciliation, a restoration with God. He knows it is possible because God is a forgiving God. It didn’t exist in David’s time, but I think he could have written the lyrics to that old hymn:
    “There is a wideness in God’s mercy,
      Like the wideness of the sea.
      There’s a kindness in God’s justice,
Which is more than liberty.
For the love of God is broader
Than the measures of the mind,
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.”
David’s knowledge of the wideness of God’s mercy, the kindness in God’s justice and his understanding that the love of God is deep and broad, and the heart of God is most wonderfully kind, empowers him to pray for restoration: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.”
David is doing everything right as he seeks restoration. He has engaged in self-reflection, he has acknowledged his sin. He understands his need for spiritual and personal growth, he is genuinely sorry for his mistakes and he wants to start over fresh. He knows this is a complex journey, but it’s not impossible. He has done the right things – Confession, Repentance and Restoration.
Kurt Vonnegut once said, “I still believe that peace and plenty and happiness can be worked out some way. I am a fool.” (7). With all due respect to Vonnegut, I would not agree. I think he’s closer to the Kingdom than he realizes. David also believed peace and plenty and happiness could, against all odds, be worked out some way.
          There is no better feeling than the peace that comes after the storm. The silence after the thunder. Clean air that smells like lilacs. Wide smiles of relief and joy. It’s a great feeling, and David remembers that feeling from experience. And he wants to feel it again.
          He wants to inhale fresh air. He wants to catch the aroma of peace, once again wafting through his life. What David wants is what we all want – who doesn’t want to live in harmony with God and with others?
          Fortunately, David discovered the secret to finding peace and removing the stench of sin in his life. He learned how he could come out smelling like a rose. The keys are Confession, Repentance and Restoration. Working with these three components of contrition, he could experience the joy of peace once again.
          “Smelling like a rose” describes that sweet-smelling state of divine grace and goodness. The expression reminds us that it is possible to sink to an unbelievably low point in life, as David did, to stink to high heaven, only to have high heaven come down and refresh us with restoration and peace.
          And when heaven fills our soul, nothing else matters.
          May be praised. Amen.
1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 2/6/24.
2. Ibid…
3. Ibid…
4. Ibid…
5.. Ibid…
6. James L. Mays, Psalms, John Knox Press, 1994, p 197-198.
7. Homileticsonline, retrieved 2/6/24

03-10-24 Toward a Safe Harbor

Thomas J Parlette
“Toward a Safe Harbor”
John 3: 14-21
3/10/24
          Sailing the high seas back in the Middle Ages was quite a different matter than it is today. If you were sailing a ship on the Mediterranean Sea in those days, you had no radios, no binoculars, and certainly no GPS or radar available. So what was a navigator to do? How did you find your way? Well, one tool at your disposal was something called a portolan chart.
          Hand-drawn and often quite colorful, these charts were drawn on vellum – an animal skin that had been prepared by cleaning, bleaching and stretching. The charts contained information that was lifesaving for sailors, who used them to find their way to the safety of a suitable port. Although these portolans contained very little information about inland geography, the charts were pretty good at providing crucial data about coastlines and harbors.
          Sailors called them “portolans” – an interesting word from the Italian word “portolano”, meaning “harbor official” or “navigation manual”, and they were designed to guide the user toward a safe harbor. (1)
          Portolans were used for more than 500 years, showing seafarers where to dock and how to avoid danger. According to the Yale Alumni Magazine, they were “renowned for their accuracy – which is remarkable, as early cartographers couldn’t see the coast from a distance.” (2) Portolans show major ports in red letters and minor ports in black. Shoals and other sailing hazards are identified with black dots.
          And here is an interesting tidbit that might surprise you if you are accustomed to holding a map with the north side up and the south side down. “Portolans were designed to be rotated to suit viewers at a communal table, they were not drawn with a distinct top or bottom.” (3)
So, a portolan could be understood from any side or any angle.
          This third chapter of the Gospel of John contains what is probably the most famous verse in the Bible – “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” I’m sure many of you know that verse by heart. It tells us that Jesus is God’s Son, the eternal Word of God in human form. He invites us to believe in him, so we will not perish. And he shows us the way to live, so that we can enjoy the safety and security of eternal life with God.
          In a way then, Jesus is God’s portolan, guiding us toward the safe harbor of eternal life with God.
         So, how does it work? God put God’s Word in human skin, long before navigational charts were put on animal skin. “In the beginning was the Word,” says John in the first chapter of his Gospel. “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and full of truth.” Yes, it was in Jesus that the Word of God became flesh, visible in human skin. It was the appearance of God in Jesus that allowed us to experience the grace and truth of God in a way that we never could before.
          All those ancient scrolls just did not do the trick. No – we needed to see God’s word in flesh and blood, walking among us.
        In today’s passage, Jesus is talking with a Pharisee named Nicodemus. During their conversation, Jesus tells him that God has a history of providing portolan charts to save God’s people. He says, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
        The reference to the serpent here is from our Old Testament lesson this morning from Numbers. It’s part of a long series of stories in Numbers in which the people complain about just about everything regarding life in the desert – including todays verses regarding the food and water, which they describe as “miserable.”
          In many instances, God sends punishments on Israel for their complaining and rebellious behavior, although Moses is able to step in and act as an intermediary between God and the people – saving them from God’s wrath.
          Such is the case in this passage. After God punishes the people for their complaints about the food by sending poisonous snakes among them, they apologize and Moses prays to the Lord. God offers Moses a portolan by saying, “Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So, Moses made a serpent out of bronze and put it on a pole. And sure enough, whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.
          Like the serpent on the pole, Jesus is God’s portolan. He is as visible as the serpent of Moses, the one we look up to when we are in danger of perishing, when we are scared as medieval sailors on a dark and stormy sea. The promise is as true today as it has ever been – “everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
          Belief is so important in John 3:16. Navigators in the Middle Ages had to believe in their portolans to avoid dying at sea. We are invited to believe in Jesus to avoid perishing in the journey of life. Fortunately, we can trust him to rescue us and guide us. He is the clearest possible sign that God loves us and wants to save us.
          The two meanings of the Italian word “Portolano” – “harbor official” and “navigation manual” are also significant. Jesus plays both roles as he guides us toward eternal life. He is not only the Word of God in human skin, but he is the one who leads us away from danger and toward a safe harbor with God.
          For instance, I’m a big fan of the Bravo show “Below Deck.” It’s wonderful escapist TV as it takes place on yachts in exotic locales like Australia, the Caribbean and the Mediterranean. In one recent season, the mega yachts home port was an exceptionally tight and crowded area. Even the most experienced captains were not allowed to dock the ships on their own. Before they pulled into port, they radioed the harbor master who would send out a specially trained pilot to guide the boat through the harbor because they knew all the hazards and depths better than the captains.
          Jesus is like the harbor master. Jesus is the one sent by God to welcome us home and lead us safely into port. “Indeed,” says the Gospel of John, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned.”
          Think about how important it is to trust the harbor official. If we follow their guidance, we are going to dock safely. If we don’t trust them and argue with them instead, we are going to end up on the rocks.
          You may remember the story of two radio operators on a foggy night. A large Navy ship sees a blip on their radar, indicating another craft ahead.
Radio 1, from the Navy vessel – “Please divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision.”
Radio 2 – That’s a negative, advise you to divert your course 15 degrees.
Radio 1 – This is a US Navy ship. I repeat, divert your course.
Radio 2 – Divert your course.
Radio 1 – This is an aircraft carrier of the United States Navy. Divert your course immediately!
Radio 2 – This is a lighthouse. Your call. (4)
          Jesus is not only our harbor official; he is also our lighthouse. All the guidance he gives is designed to keep us from crashing. By believing in him, we will not perish but will have eternal life.
          And Jesus is our navigation manual. He is the one who shows us how to walk in the light of God’s truth and God’s grace. “And this is the judgment,” says the Gospel of John, “that light has come into the world, and the people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil… But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”
          In John’s Gospel, there is a lot of talk about light and darkness, with light always referring to good and darkness always referring to evil. This is an unfortunate pairing, since we know that darkness is not always bad. Babies grow in the darkness of the womb, and seeds sprout and grow in the darkness of the earth. And unfortunately, language about dark and light can spill over into assessments of skin tones, adding fuel to the fire of racism.
          Better to talk simply about good and evil, and say that Jesus has come to guide us in the path of truth and goodness and grace. He is a navigation manual for us; he helps us avoid the dangers of lies and evil actions and judgmental attitudes. When we follow Jesus, we walk the path of the One who “is the way and the truth and the life.” When we imitate his actions, we show goodness and generosity to others. And when we receive his grace, we not only experience forgiveness for ourselves, but we become able to forgive those who have hurt us.
          Jesus is the One we consult when we need to find our way. To have such a figure on our portolan charts is really nothing new. Historians have found that the Red Sea was often depicted on portolans in the Middle Ages. This wasn’t because Mediterranean sailors needed to find their way through the Red Sea – they didn’t. The Mediterranean and the Red Sea weren’t connected until the Suez Canal opened in 1869. No, the Red Sea was included as a reminder to the sailors. It told them that God was with them, working for good in their lives, just as God had been with the Israelites as they crossed the Red Sea to escape oppression in Egypt. (5)
          So we can think of Jesus as God’s portolan, the Word of God in human skin. He is our harbor official, our navigation manual and our lighthouse. He can be approached from many sides, by people of diverse backgrounds and perspectives. When you find yourself unable to see what lies ahead, put your faith in him. He will keep you from perishing and guide you toward the safe harbor of eternal life with God.
         May God be praised. Amen.

03-03-2024 Bad For Business

Thomas J Parlette
“Bad for Business”
John 2: 13-22
3/3/24
          There are certain things that get under my skin. Things that irritate me – pet peeves, if you will. We all have some I guess,
          In my case, I’m very fussy about remote controls, and yes, I sometimes call them “clickers.” I like to keep the remotes on our coffee table at home, that way everyone knows where they are. That way they won’t slide down between the couch cushions or find their way into the kitchen because somebody went to the microwave to pop popcorn. Keep the remote on the coffee table.
          I’m the same way about turning out lights. I am forever turning out lights in empty rooms in our house - I hope you can hear my family’s eyes rolling in unison because they are so tired of my dad lectures on those topics.
          And of course, we’ve all got some pet peeves while we’re driving. For instance, it really gets under my skin when you pull into a fast food restaurant to grab a coffee or something, and there are 14 cars ahead of you. How is that fast? Or – whenever I’m driving south on Broadway coming into church, it seems I always have a car ahead of me that slows down to crawl to make a turn into MOKA, without using a turn signal. I have nothing against MOKA – but please let me know you are turning!
          One last pet peeve – those TV shows where one of the characters gets married, and one of the other lead characters goes online to get ordained as a minister in the Church of Spiritual Whatever for twenty bucks so they can perform their friend’s wedding. At this point, my family just gets up and walks out of the room, because they know what’s coming.
          Well, this morning we get a little glimpse of something that really gets under Jesus’ skin. The situation at the Temple really pushed his buttons and he gets angry.
          The story of the cleansing of the Temple can make us a little uncomfortable, because it’s one of those times when we see Jesus being very “un-Jesus like.” The image of an angry Jesus flipping over tables and causing a stampede doesn’t really sit well with our images of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, meek and mild, or the baby Jesus lying in a manger. This angry Jesus can trouble us.
          This story of Jesus clearing out the Temple is one of the few stories that is told in all four gospels. The synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke – all tell us this story happened towards the end of Jesus’ ministry, when he came to Jerusalem just before his crucifixion. John however, places this story right at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. In fact, according to John, Jesus was in Jerusalem for the Passover at least three different times, while the other gospels have Jesus only making one trip to the Holy City.
          Biblical scholars have long wrestled with this inconsistency. Solutions or explanations for these discrepancy have fallen generally into three categories.
This story only happened once, during Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem during Holy Week, as the synoptics tell us.
2. The cleansing happened at the start of Jesus’ ministry, as John tells us.
3. Some have offered a third option to say, maybe there were two cleansing episodes, and Matthew Mark, Luke and John all have it right.
          For the most part, that third option, that this story happened twice, has been ruled out, and scholars go back and forth over the proper chronology of this story.
          But when you consider the purposes of each of the Gospels, it becomes a little clearer why John puts this story at the beginning. Matthew, Mark, and Luke are most concerned about telling us what Jesus did and said. But John was much more concerned with identifying who Jesus was. John assumes that his audience already knows the stories and the facts of Jesus’ life – he was more concerned in showing his listeners who Jesus was. For John, this cleansing of the Temple establishes Jesus as the new dwelling place of God. Now that Jesus has come, God will dwell with the people not through the Temple, but through an actual, flesh and blood person. All four Gospels record Jesus saying “Tear down this Temple and I will rebuild it in three days”, with the disciples realizing what Jesus meant after his death and resurrection. But John wants that early in his story so we can see who Jesus was right from the beginning.
          Whenever we deal with a passage from John, we should be careful to note how he refers to “the Jews.” Unfortunately, passages such as these have been used to support anti-semitism in the Christian community for years. It’s been improving in recent years, but historically, passages like this one have been used to scapegoat “the Jews” as a people, blaming them for killing Jesus. We must be careful to remind ourselves that all the characters in this story are Jewish, including Jesus and his disciples and everyone gathering in Jerusalem for the Passover festival. We need to take into account that when John refers to “the Jews”, he is not using that pejoratively for all Jewish people. He is referring to specific Jewish people, the religious officials within Judaism. He is referring to those people who are responsible for running things at the Temple. So, whenever we read John, whenever he says “the Jews”, we should probably substitute “the religious officials or establishment.”
          So, in addition to the placement of the story of Jesus’ visit to the Temple, there are a couple of other ways that John’s story is different from Matthew, Mark and Luke.
          First, although Matthew and Mark both mention that doves were for sale as sacrificial animals there in the Temple courts, only John tells us that there were oxen and sheep for sale as well. Luke doesn’t even mention the animals.
          The other thing unique to John version is that Jesus fashions a whip of cords to use as he drives the animals out of the Temple. At times, this story is portrayed as an impromptu act, as if Jesus gets caught up in the heat of the moment and loses his cool, so we can downplay the anger that comes out here. But as John tells it, this was deliberate act, something planned out, it was not spontaneous. Jesus had to take at least some time to gather enough cords and then find a way to fasten them together somehow to make this whip cords. This was a deliberate show of righteous anger. So why was Jesus so angry about this?
          The religious officials who were responsible for worship in the Temple probably had good intentions when all this buying and selling started. After all, people came from miles away to be here for Passover and they needed to buy animals for sacrifice and get their money changed to the proper currency. It was just good business when it all started. It served a much needed purpose.
          But over the centuries, the sacrificial system had evolved into an efficient machine for fleecing the rich and poor alike, earning a great deal of money for the insiders who ran the system.
          If you went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, your goal was to sacrifice an animal according to the law of Moses. You could bring your own sacrificial animal, of course, but many who made the journey didn’t want to transport an animal, they fund it easier to purchase one on site – at a steep mark up of course.
          The law said that you had to present a perfect animal, without mark or blemish. So unless you had purchased a pre-approved animal within the Temple precincts, you had to take your offering to an inspector, who would tell you if the animal met the standard or not. Of course, many of the inspectors were in the pockets of the animal-sellers, so they rarely approved any sacrificial animal brought in from the outside.
          And there was something else. If you had journeyed from one of the surrounding lands where Jewish people had settled – like Greece, Egypt, Asia Minor or even Rome – well, you probably had imperial Roman coins on you, engraved with the likeness of the Emperor. Such graven images violated the 2nd Commandment, so they were forbidden in the Temple. You couldn’t use that to pay the Temple tax. So to make an offering or buy an animal for sacrifice, you had to go to the moneychangers to exchange your Roman coins for image-free Judean coins – all for a price, of course. Since there was no other option, you had to pay whatever commission they asked. Quite a racket they had going.
          When Jesus arrived at the Temple and saw this flea-market atmosphere and people being taken advantage of when they had come to worship God, he was incensed over the injustice of it all. This was not what the Temple was for. This was not what God wanted. That was what angered Jesus about the scene at the Temple.
          So after he created a stampede and flipped over the money changers tables, the religious officials could see – this was bad for business! This was their peak season. They needed to make their money now, during Passover, so they could pay for the upkeep of the Temple. So they question Jesus – “What sign can you show us for doing these this.”
          Notice here, that they don’t try to arrest Jesus for causing this disturbance, at least not now. They don’t order him to leave, they don’t send soldiers in after him. No, they ask for a sign. At some level, these Jewish religious officials knew that Jesus had a point. Maybe they knew that things had gotten out of hand. Maybe some of them secretly wished they could throw those moneychangers out themselves. Maybe they had just gotten so used to the system functioning as it did, bringing in the money they needed to keep the Temple going, that they were content to look the other way and let the religious stuff slide a bit. Maybe.
          Jesus’ answer however comes back to haunt him later. He tells the authorities – “Destroy this Temple, and in three days, I will raise it up again.” That’s the only charge that stuck later in Holy Week at Jesus’ trial, although the officials changed the wording to “He said he would tear down the Temple and re-build it in three days.” Not exactly what Jesus said, and certainly not what he meant, as his disciples remembered what he said and figured out he was talking about the temple of his body.
          This passage shows us that anger is not a sin in and of itself. It’s ok to get angry. Jesus did. What’s more important is what makes us angry and what do we want to happen as a result of our anger. Jesus was angry at how worship had been mangled to cheat people out of experiencing God. He was mad at the injustice of it all. What Jesus wanted to see happen was people coming back to the right worship of God. Back in Genesis 18, verse 18, Israel’s earliest calling was to reach out to all the nations of the world. In that verse we read, “Abraham shall become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him.” The prophet Isaiah built on that calling in Isaiah 42, verse 6 and 7: “I am the Lord. I have called you in righteousness. I have taken you by the hand and kept you. I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.”
          What was happening at the Temple, with the sacrificial system and the moneychangers was not being a light to the nations – it was taking advantage of people. And for Jesus that had to stop.
          The controversial comedian Lenny Bruce once famously said, “Every day people are straying away from church and going back to God.”
          Maybe that’s exactly what Jesus was doing here. Calling the people back to God. For in Jesus we will not need to offer sacrifices or visit the Temple to experience God. Jesus will take the place of the Temple. God in present to us now, not in a Temple, but in the person of Jesus Christ.
          As we come to the table this morning, let us give thanks for “Immanuel” – God with us, in this meal shared in the Spirit with Jesus Christ.
          May God be praised. Amen.

02-25-2024 The Father of Many Nations

Thomas J Parlette 
The Father of Many Nations”
Gen. 17: 1-7, 15-16 
May 25, 2024    
    “The Rivulet-loving wanderer Abraham
          Through waterless wastes tracing his fields of pasture
          Led his Chaldean herds and fattening flocks
          With the meandering art of wavering water
          That seeks and finds, yet does not know it’s way.
He came, rested and prospered, and went on,
Scattering behind him little pastoral kingdoms,
And over each one its own particular sky,
Not the great rounded sky through which he journeyed,
That went with him but when he rested changed.
His mind full of names
Learned from strange peoples speaking alien tongues,
And all that was theirs one day he would inherit.
He died content and full of years, though still
The Promise had not come, and he left his bones,
Far from his father’s house, in alien Canaan.”

          That poem by Edwin Muir, nicely encapsulates the man we meet today – Abraham, the father of many nations.
          Abraham is such a unique character in world history. All 3 of the world’s great monotheistic religions – Judaism, Islam and Christianity – trace their roots to Abraham. The Jewish faith tends to emphasize the connection between Abraham’s “going forth” and the internal spiritual journey that all of us take. Muslims stress Abraham’s submission to God as the major feature here – obedience to the will of God. In fact, the word “muslim” means “one who submits to God.” And for us Christians, we point to Abraham’s faith and trust in God as he does what God says with no arguments or excuse – no questions asked. He just packs up and goes. For us, accepting this call from God makes Abraham the Father of Faith.
          As I said, Abraham is unique, and he is quite amazing. Just think about this little bit of the story we heard today. God said “Go – I’ve got great plans for you. I will make great nations out of you.” And he went. Abraham took God at his word. He held God’s promise as true. He wondered out loud how God was going to bring all this about – but he had faith that if God said it was going to happen, it would happen. He never asked any questions. He never argued or demanded any proof. He never looked for a way out or offered any excuses. He never said “I can’t”- he just went.
          Once upon a time, an elementary school teacher asked her students to write down as many “I can’ts” as possible.
          I can’t kick a soccer ball past second base.
          I can’t do addition without using my fingers.
          I can’t get that girl in science class to like me
          I can’t do ten push-ups.
          I can’t get boys to notice me.
          I can’t eat just one cookie.
          All the students then put their “I can’ts” into a shoebox, and their teacher took them outside to a remote spot on the playground, right underneath a beautiful tree. The teacher told her students – “Today we are going to have a funeral for all your “I can’ts” They dug a little hole, and they carefully placed their shoebox full of “I can’ts” in the hole and covered it with dirt.
          Then the teacher told her students to join hands, and she gave the eulogy. “Friends, we are gathered here today to honor the memory of “I can’t.” While he was on earth, he touched many lives, some more than others. His name has been spoken in every public place – schools, city halls, state capitols and churches. He is survived by his brothers and sisters – “I Can,” “I Will”, and “I’m going to right away.” They are not as well-known as their famous relative and are certainly not as strong and powerful yet. Perhaps someday, with your help, they will make an even bigger mark on the world. May “I can’t” rest in peace and may everyone present pick up their lives and move forward in his absence. Amen.”
          Then the students went back to their classroom where they celebrated the passing of “I Can’t” with cookies, popcorn and juice. The teacher made a tombstone from butcher paper and wrote – “I Can’t” – at the top with the date on the bottom. She posted the tombstone on the bulletin board and made a habit of pointing at it whenever a student said “I Can’t”.
          Abraham must have had a teacher like that, because I can’t just isn’t in his vocabulary. His story is the model of faith and trust that Paul encourages us to live by. Abraham put every nagging “I can’t” to bed and ventured out to a new country, with no idea where he was going. The only thing he knew was who he was following.
          A number of years ago, the late Pope John Paul was traveling to a much anticipated and historic meeting with the Secretary General of the United Nations. The Pope’s plane was scheduled to land at JFK in New York – but due to unsafe wind conditions, his plane had to be re-routed to Newark. A limousine picked up the Pope and whisked him away to his meeting.
          With only minutes to spare, anxious Pope leaned forward and asked the limo driver – “Can you drive a bit faster, my son, I’m going to be late.” But the driver said, “I’m sorry, Your Holiness, but I can’t afford another speeding ticket. If I get another ticket, I’m going to lose my license.”
          A sympathetic Pope then asked the driver to pull over. To the chauffer’s amazement, the Pope got out of the limo, tapped on the driver’s side window and told him that he would drive the rest of the way. So the driver moved to the back seat and the Pope got behind the wheel.
          Driving much faster than the chauffer would have dared, the Pope darted in and out of traffic – narrowly missing several parked cars. A police officer witnessed the speeding limo and promptly pulled the car over. “Let me handle this one,” the officer said to his partner. “When I’m through with this guy he’s going to have at least 5 tickets.”
         But after only a minute, the visibly shaken officer returned to his squad car with his ticket book still unopened. His partner asked what happened, and the officer said, “I couldn’t write him a ticket – this guy was big. I mean REALLY big.”
          “Who was it?” asked his partner. “The mayor… the Governor… the President. Don’t tell me you pulled over the President of the United States?”
         “No, he’s bigger than all of them.”
          “Oh come on – who’s bigger than the President?
          Well, I’m not exactly sure who it was – but the Pope was his chauffer!”
          Abraham knew that God was the one who was driving the car. He was able to give up control, give God the wheel and enjoy the ride from the back seat. As Jesus says  – “Those who lose their lives  will ultimately gain their lives.” Those who give up control of their lives to God will find life.
          Abraham knew that deep down in his bones. Put God in the center, not himself, and abundant life would come to him.
          That’s no small lesson is it? It can take years to come to grips with that little paradox. Henri Nouwen once wrote that “This paradox becomes visible in very ordinary situations. If we cling to our friends, we may lose them, but if we are non-possessive in our relationships, we will make friends. If fame is what we seek and desire, it often vanishes as soon as we acquire it, but if we have no need to be known, we might be remembered long after our deaths. When we want to be in the center, we easily end up on the margins, but when we are free enough to be wherever we must be, we often find ourselves in the center.”
        When we can give up the center – we find ourselves in the center. By giving up our lives – we gain our lives. The great paradox of Christianity.
          Abraham seemed to have an intuitive understanding of that paradox. We have a word for that mysterious, elusive idea. We have a word for that intuitive sense – Faith.
          There’s a story about a missionary and Bible translator in India who was working on a translation of the New Testament into one of the many dialects of Southern India. He was looking for a word for “faith” and was having a difficult time of it.
          One day, a young boy from the village came into his study. Hunched over the manuscript, the missionary waved the boy over to a chair in the corner, saying he’d be with him in a minute.
         When he looked up, the missionary saw the boy walking around the chair, looking at it from every angle, but not sitting on it. The missionary repeated, “Have a seat, we can talk in a minute.” But the boy continued to examine the chair in amazement.
          Then the missionary realized what was going on. This was such an isolated village, the boy had never seen a western-style chair before. He wasn’t sure he could sit on such a flimsy-looking thing, and have it bear his weight.
          Then the boy asked a question in his native tongue. Included within it was a single word that meant, “Can I give myself to this and know that it will hold me up?” A light went on for the translator – he knew he had found just the right word for faith.
          That’s what Abraham had – trust that God was strong enough to rest his life on. Abraham knew that faith and trust in God was what would guide him through life. He could give himself to God and know that God would hold him up.
          As Paul points out – our works, our accomplishments, everything we try to do on our own – just falls short. The only thing we need for salvation is faith and trust in God. That’s what Abraham, the father of many nations – Jewish, Islamic and Christian – can teach us.
          So as we continue on our own journey in this Lenten season, a journey that takes us through familiar and unfamiliar territory – let us put our faith in God. Let us trust that God can bear the weight of anything we try to carry on our own. Let us live by faith and trust that the promises of God will come true.
          May God be praised. Amen.

02-11-2024 Eyes of Faith

Thomas J Parlette
“Eyes of Faith”
2 Corinthians 4: 3-6
2/11/24

          When I was in the 4th grade, I used to walk to school. It wasn’t far, less than a mile – so unless it was raining or snowing, I would walk. A bunch of neighborhood kids would gather at the corner and we’d walk to school together.

          Every day, we had to walk pass this one particular house that had a huge German chained up in the yard. And he did not like kids. He would charge out after us and we just had to hope the chain held – otherwise he would tear us apart. It was pretty terrifying. So, to avoid that dog, we would walk a couple of extra blocks out of our way. It added a bit of time to our route, but it was worth it to avoid being terrorized that dog.

          That’s the way it is with those huge obstacles, those daunting problems, those frightening situations we face in life. Some people go over them. That is, you know the problem is there but you just scratch the surface, gloss over the problem, brush up against it but you don’t really address it. It’s always there and you minimize the danger. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

          Other people decide to go under the problem, meaning they bury their heads in the ground and don’t even acknowledge it. They don’t name it. They think, “If I don’t talk about it and I don’t think about it, maybe it will just go away.” But pretty soon the problem suffocates you with its weight. Choosing not to do something is a decision.

          But people with eyes of faith choose to go through the difficulties they face. They can see what others can’t. They name the problem, identify the problem, stare that problem right in the eye and decide that the only way to conquer this problem is go through it.

          On this Transfiguration Sunday, Jesus three closest disciples go with him up a mountain, and their eyes were opened. They saw what others could not see. There on the mountaintop, they saw Jesus in all his glory. Even though the stumbled and were often filled with doubt, they now had eyes of faith.

          In our epistle reading today from 2nd Corinthians, Paul wrote about such eyes of faith. “Our gospel is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case, the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ…” Paul, however has eyes of faith. He can see things others cannot.

          Perhaps you remember the story in 2nd Kings, chapter 6 about Elisha? The king of Aram was an enemy of Israel. However, he couldn’t seem to surprise Israel’s army. Unknown to him, God would tell Elisha the prophet where the enemy was waiting to ambush them and Elisha would warn the King of Israel. Every time, the army of Israel would escape unharmed.

          When the king of Aram heard that Elisha was giving away their position, he sent troops to capture Elisha. One night, they snuck in and surrounded the village where Elisha and his servant were staying. In the morning, when they woke up, they looked outside – and each of them saw a different situation.

          Elisha’s servant saw the soldiers of Aram surrounding them on all sides. He saw defeat. He saw no escape. But Elisha, with eyes of faith, saw something else. Elisha offered a quick prayer that God would open the eyes of his servant as well. Then the servant took a second look. This time he saw a band of angels surrounding the Aramean army who far outnumbered the enemy. Elisha didn’t hide, run away. Or even deceive the enemy. He didn’t go around the problem, over the problem or under the problem. He went through the problem. He faced the problem with eyes of faith knowing in his heart that there were more FOR him than AGAINST him.

          When I was in my high school years, I used to think about faith in terms of a list of doctrines or beliefs that you had to accept before becoming a member of a club or joining a church. I thought of Confirmation as that time when you learned the beliefs that you had to hold.

          As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to see faith in much more active terms. There are a lot of people who believe in God, but they don’t really have faith. Faith is living against the odds. Faith has less to do with what you believe and more to do with how you decide to live. Faith is seeing the enemy surround you, the problem overtaking you, the crisis overwhelm you – and instead of going around it or over it or under it, you decide to do what Paul and Elisha did. Go through it with eyes of faith.

          Why is that so important? Because Paul wrote about two ways to live. You can live with blinded eyes that are veiled and unable to see the glory of God. Or, you can live with eyes of faith that walk you through the storms of life.

          Sometimes God parts the water and you walk right through the obstacle you’re facing. Sometimes God the eyes and sight comes back. Sometimes God heals miraculously. Unfortunately, those are the exceptions. Usually, and don’t ask me why, usually you can’t get over or around or under such problems. Most of the time, you have to go through them. And for that, you need eyes of faith.

          You will recall that the topic of faith is one of the major themes of the book of Hebrews. There we find perhaps the most familiar definition of faith we have – “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

          The writer of Hebrews then launches into a long list of examples of this kind of faith.

 By faith, we understand that the world was formed by God. We never saw it.

By faith, Noah built an ark without seeing the first drop of rain.

By faith, Abraham and Sarah left their homeland without seeing a map or a travel itinerary of where they going.

Abraham and Sarah believed they would have a son – without seeing any way that that would be possible.

By faith, Joseph saved his people in Egypt from famine.

By faith, Moses led the people out of bondage in Egypt, through the desert and right to the edge of the Promised land, despite never seeing it for himself.

          After this long list of people who by faith went through these problems and obstacles with eyes of faith, Hebrews 11 concludes with these words:

          “By faith these people overthrew kingdoms, ruled with justice, and received what God had promised them. They shut the mouths of lions, quenched the flames of fire and escaped death by the edge of the sword. Their weakness was turned into strength. They became strong in battle and put whole armies to flight.”

          A lot of action in those verses – overthrowing kingdoms, ruling with justice, shutting the mouth of lions and quenching flames of fire. I suppose they could have responded differently. I suppose Abraham and Sarah could have just said – No, we’re not moving. We’re staying right here. I suppose Noah could have gone around the problem, built a couple of canoes, and hoped for the best. I suppose Joseph could have gone over the problem, shrugged and said, “Why is a famine that will kill the Egyptians my problem?”

          But instead, they went through their obstacles with eyes of faith. They couldn’t see where the path would lead or how the story would end, but they still went through. Like Elisha, they looked out at the obstacle they were facing and thought, “It sure looks bad out there. The path looks incredible hard. No doubt my life is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better, but I press on, I go forward, I go through convinced that there are more who are FOR me than AGAINST me.”

          Early in my ministry, I remember talking to a man who had suffered terrible abuse as a child. For a long time, he went over it by denying it happened. He tried going around it by avoiding the problem with alcohol, work and exercise addiction. He tried going under it, saying, “It happened a long time ago. I’m over it.” However, the demons of his past were still there, breaking apart his marriage, ruining his business and destroying his health. He realized that the only thing he could do was put on his crash helmet and go right through it.

          When I knew him, he was about halfway through that battle. He would stop by every once in awhile and tell me he was making progress, but admitted that he knew that before it was going to get better, it was going to get a whole lot worse.

          But now, with eyes of faith, he was no longer suffering. He felt like he could see what the disciples saw on that mountaintop – the glory of Christ working in him, even as he walked his dark, difficult path.

          During one of our visits, he grabbed one of my Bibles and flipped open to Isaiah 43, and he shared with me his favorite verse:

          “When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

          Notice that the word “through” is used 3 times in those verses, just like it pops up in the 23rd Psalm as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. We will still go through deep waters; we will still go through difficult rivers. We will still go through fire and we still walk through the valley of the shadow of death. The difference now is that we do not travel alone. The ones who are FOR us outnumber the ones AGAINST us. The difference now is that you have eyes of faith.

          It is in this journey with eyes of faith through life’s difficult storms that Paul gives us this word of hope today. “For it is God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”

          May God be praised. Amen

01-21-2024 The Time is Fulfilled

Thomas J Parlette
“The Time is Fulfilled”
Mark 1: 14-20, 1st Cor. 7: 29-31
1/21/24

          Just when everything seems as normal as it could be, just when life is humming along as usual, sometimes, something can happen that shakes things up – and suddenly your life is re-prioritized and start to think differently.

          I remember back in 1989, an earthquake hit the San Francisco Bay area, causing the double-decker Bay Bridge to collapse. I remember it well because the quake struck during a World Series game being played in San Francisco that night. I was in my second year of seminary and I was watching the game in the basement of Alexander Hall, with a bunch of other students, some of whom from the Bay area. All of a sudden, the picture on the screen started shaking, and the announcers tried to explain what was going on – we were watching the effects of an earthquake live.

          When the quake subsided, I remember watching an interview with one of the players – I don’t remember who it was. But he had been one the players who ran out onto the field and was frantically searching the bleachers. In the interview, he said that he did that because his family and young son were at the game that night and he needed to see that they were okay. Then he said, “Baseball just didn’t seem that important.”

          It was an interesting comment from a professional baseball player about to play in a World Series game. His whole life had been working up to this moment, to these few games. He might never get this opportunity again. Before the earthquake, he probably would have ranked this among the most experiences in his life. And then the ground shook, and his priorities and perspective changed. Suddenly the most important thing in his life, didn’t seem so important anymore.

          Events can intrude upon us that force us to re-evaluate and perhaps reorganize our priorities in life. What seemed most important to us – like work, sports and making a living, can take a backseat sometimes.

          I think that happened in April 1999, as we watched the school shooting unfold at Columbine. Life changed after that. Going to school and what that meant changed forever. And we’re still dealing with the aftershocks.

          I think that happened during the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks. Life changed forever. Suddenly our priorities were different. The control we thought we had over life, suddenly gets up-ended.

          I wonder if we have a similar moment in Mark’s passage this morning. Sometimes we think of Jesus as the one who strolls around through the beautiful Galilean countryside, offering teachings and sayings and parables to those who come out to hear him. He offers his compassionate touch when he heals people and sometimes you might get a picnic of bread and fish for coming out to see him. But Mark paints a scene with a bit more urgency than we sometimes expect.

          Mark announces the arrival of Jesus saying that Jesus was proclaiming the goodness of God. Mark uses an interesting word here as he re-works the word usually used to describe an important announcement from the Empire. Right from the start, Mark positions Jesus as the harbinger to a new kind of empire, a new kind of kingdom, coming into existence right under the noses of the all-powerful Roman Empire.

          “The time is fulfilled,” says Jesus. “The kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe the good news.”

          Notice that Jesus did not say – “The Kingdom of God is here.” No, he said, “has come near,” meaning it is not here yet, the Kingdom of God is not fully present. It remains our ultimate destination, the goal towards which we work – but it isn’t fully here yet.

          In the novel Windows of the Heavens, by Henry Brinton, a Methodist pastor named Harley Camden reads his congregation a line from the book of Revelation: “The angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life… and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”

          Then Harley turns to his congregation and says, “Begin with the end in mind.”

          “Today’s scripture is the end of the story,” he says. “It is the goal to which God is moving, from the first day of creation to the end of time… God wants there to be harmony between water and cities, and between plant life and human developments… The city and the river and the tree of life all live in harmony. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”

          Harley pauses to let that message sink in, and says: “Begin with the end in mind.” (1)

          J.K. Rowling did that when she began writing the Harry Potter books. Rowling made pages and pages of notes on all the characters and their backgrounds. She always knew that Harry’s story would begin with Hagrid bringing Harry to Hogwarts, and she always knew what her ending scene would be. Not to give away too much – but she knew that Hagrid would be the one to carry Harry back to Hogwarts. She began with the end in mind.

          So, let’s keep the end in mind as we begin the story of what it means to follow Jesus. The time is fulfilled. The Kingdom has come near. And the Kingdom will come near again at the end of the story. But for now, Jesus begins calling his disciples to join him on the journey.

          He starts with Simon and Andrew, doing what they do every day. They are fishing, working hard to support themselves and their families. It’s what they have done every day of their lives. Jesus interrupts their humdrum, normal routine and says, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” At this point Mark breaks out one of favorite phrases – “Immediately.” Immediately they left their nets and they followed him. There is an urgency about this story as Mark tells it. He presents this as one of those moments that come out of the blue and re-prioritize your life. This is the kind of moment when the earth shakes and what you thought was important doesn’t seem so important anymore.

          Next up, a little farther down the beach, Jesus stumbles into the lives of two brothers, James and John. They are fishermen as well – they are in the boat mending their nets. Immediately Jesus called to them and they dropped their nets and followed him. Again – an urgent moment of decision. As Mark presents it – you’re either in or out, there is no time to think about. All four of these fishermen could feel the earth move, they could sense that this was a moment when nothing else was more important than this decision. This is the moment when their lives were re-prioritized. The most important thing was not working and making a living – it now becomes following Jesus and committing themselves to a whole new way of life – today – now – as soon as possible.

          Years ago, a couple in a Bible study group shared a story from their own lives that demonstrates what can when the new reality of Christ’s love intrudes on our lives. This couple was in the habit of leaving notes for each other all over the house. That’s not unusual – a lot of us do that. We have a sticky note on our kitchen counter that is running grocery list of everything we need. But these folks left notes for each other that said things like “I love you” or “I’m thinking of you.”

          One day a plumber was doing some work for them and he happened to see some of their notes. He asked about them and the couple said that was just their way of letting each other know how they felt. Well, this plumber thought that was a pretty good idea and he decided he wanted to try that at home.

          So, one day he left a few notes around his house for his wife and kids, telling them how much he loved them and how much he missed them. he went about his day, anxious to get home and see his family’s reaction to his notes.

          When he walked through the door after work, his wife, his son and daughter were all sitting at the dining room table looking very serious and concerned.

          “Honey, are you Ok? You left all these notes for us. We’re concerned. Are you dying?” (2)

          The new reality of love breaking into our lives can be a little shocking. When Jesus calls us to follow, we may be a little shocked by what that entails, and it may catch people off guard.

          Paul once wrote some words that many have found troublesome over the years:

          “From now on, let even those who have wives be as though they had none, and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing, and those who buy as though they had no possessions, and those who deal with the world as though they had no dealings with it. For the present form of this world is passing away.”

          In answering the call of Jesus, life changes. All normal expectations no longer apply. The world expects itself to be constantly buying and selling, working hard and taking care of ourselves. We know that realistically, we still engage in buying and selling, grieving and rejoicing, working and playing. Those things are a necessarily part of life. But only a PART of life. They are not LIFE itself. Are life is to be found in God – who gives us the Divine self through his Son. That’s the Kingdom coming near – Jesus being here with us.

          The German theologian Helmut Thielicke once wrote:

“At the beginning of World War Two, I stood in the bell tower of St Katherine’s Church in Danzig with the church organist. He sat down at the keyboard of the carillon to play a hymn on the hour. His mighty proclamation of the gospel rang out over the whole town. The bells beat upon my ears and the sound of their message so filled me that no other sound could intervene.”

          “Far below, though, I could see people going about their business. They were building an air-raid shelter. The excavator clattered, drills hammered away and traffic surged along. No one looked up to listen to the music that was pounding in my ears and filling me to the brim. What sounded all around us up above remained inaudible down there amidst the noise of daily work.”

          “Have we heard the sound that comes from above? We certainly cannot stop our machines. Nor should we try. But we can pay attention to the sound that filters through our earthly noise. For the air is full of promises, and we would lose everything is we failed to hear them.” (3)

          Today, once again we begin our journey of discipleship.

          Today is the day to listen to the voice of Jesus calling us to join him.

          Today we begin with the end in mind.

          The time is fulfilled. The Kingdom of God has come near.

          We are invited to join Jesus on the journey of discipleship

          May God be praised. Amen.

 1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 1/4/24.

2. Robert Elder, “Time’s A-Wasting”, Sermons on the Gospel Readings Cycle B, CSS Publishing Inc., 2008, p 72.

3. Resources for Preaching and Worship, Year B, edited by Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild, Westminster John Knox Press, 2002, p 51.

01-07-2024 The One Who is to Come

Thomas J Parlette
“The One Who is to Come”
Mark 1: 1-11
1/7/24

          Today we close out the Christmas season with Epiphany that celebrates the light that has come into the world, as we look forward to the Baptism of the Lord and a fresh journey toward Jerusalem and ultimately the cross. We marked Epiphany yesterday by “un-decorating” the church and putting away all the Christmas trees and garland and poinsettias and boxing up the decorations and nativity scenes for another year.

          A friend and colleague of mine in Iowa likes to tell the story of how a volunteer, who was soliciting help from the congregation with taking down Christmas decorations, was telling people, “Well, it’s time to make the church look plain again.”

          My friend overheard this and offered an amendment, “You mean, beautifully elegant and simple again.”

          The volunteer recruiter thought about it, and said, “No, I think plain says it all.”(1)

          That’s how a lot of people feel about this time of year. A little drained from the holiday madness. A little tired of the frenzy that can dominate this time of year. The holidays are over, let’s move on. Here in Minnesota, these cold, dark winter days and nights are the perfect time into enter into our own version of hibernation.

          But this morning, there is good news for all the tired and weary souls who might be a little down in this post-holiday lull.

          Our text from Mark kicks off what we refer to as “Ordinary Time” in the lectionary calendar. Mark begins his gospel with the bold proclamation – “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”

          People are hungry for good news these days. Perhaps you remember John Krasinski’s You Tube show “Some Good News.” It premiered during the isolation days of the COVID shutdown on March 29th, 2020. Eight episodes were made, at least three of which you can find on YouTube. The show focused on good news, feel good stories, stories about compassion and empathy, love and joy. On one show, they even live-streamed a prom that couldn’t happen in person, but was still enjoyed by all who tuned in. Back in 2020, we were all starving for some good news.

          That really hasn’t changed too much. There is still a hunger for good news. In fact, I still subscribe to a mailing called “Nice News” that focuses on uplifting stories to let subscribers know that not everything is dark in our world. There are still good people doing nice things. There is still light breaking into our darkness.

          Perhaps this hunger for good news is what drew people out to the desert to hear John the Baptist. John spoke about the need for repentance, but also the assurance of forgiveness. Change your ways now – for the one who is to come, the Messiah, God’s Son, the one true light, is on the way. I baptize you with water, but the one who is coming will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.

          This need to change and be forgiven, this hunger for good news, must have struck a chord, because people from all walks of life came from as far away as Jerusalem to hear John and be baptized in the waters of the Jordan river.

          Then Jesus arrives, seeking to be baptized. As Mark tells the story, “The heavens were torn apart and the Spirit descended like a dove on him.”

          Mark has presented the idea of John as the new Elijah, by describing his clothing and his diet and his living in the wilderness – all his listeners would have connected the dots that this John represented Elijah. In Isaiah 64, the prophet prayed that God would “tear open the heavens and come down”, and in chapter 43, we hear the promise of “a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” And here at the beginning of Mark’s gospel, those promises are answered. God tears through the barrier separating earth from heaven and comes to us in the wilderness.

          This idea of the wilderness must be important to Mark, because he mentions twice. It isn’t too difficult to see the wilderness or the desert as a metaphor for life. Sometimes our lives can feel like a wilderness where challenges are all around us, nothing is easy and surprises, both good and bad, lie just up ahead on our winding trails. Sometimes our wilderness life can feel dry and parched like the desert where John lived and preached.

          The good news on this first Sunday of Epiphany is that God has broken into our WORLD like a light in the darkness. And in the baptism of Jesus breaks into our LIVES, and descends like a dove.

          So why does God tear through the barriers of heaven and earth on this baptism day? God breaks in to offer some words of assurance.

          Notice how Mark presents these words from heaven. They are directed to Jesus in a very personal way – “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” This is God dropping Jesus off at college at the start of a new phase of life – that’s the feel here.

          Luke follows Mark’s lead and presents the voice from heaven speaking directly to Jesus as well.

          In Matthew, the voice from heaven is more like a proclamation to the crowd – “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” The essence is the same, but the tone is a little different. It sounds more like an introduction for a key note speaker at a conference than a personal conversation.

          In John’s gospel, we find something very different as John sees the Spirit descend on Jesus while John was baptizing others in the Jordan. John himself stand off to the side and points out Jesus as the Lamb of God. As readers, we look over John’s shoulder as he explains to us who Jesus is – but we never actually see Jesus enter into the waters of the Jordan.

          The good news for us in this story as Mark tells it is that God breaks into our world and says these words to us as well. Since we were grafted onto the body of Christ in our own baptism, we can take God’s words to heart. When God says to Jesus, “YOU are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased,” God says that to us as well. That’s what it means when we say that as Christians we are adopted as Children of God in our baptism. God says to us, “YOU are my child, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

          The heavens will open again in Mark. There will again be talk of tearing, and of Elijah, and of the love between Father and Son. It happens at the hinge of Mark’s story, in the Transfiguration. And it happens again near the end, at the cross, when even the imperial powers get caught up in declarations of divine love – but those are stories for the coming days. For most of the gospel this love lives out of sight, like a seed growing secretly, unseen. Only the demons know who Jesus is. The disciples stumble along, forever forgetting what they have seen and heard and getting it all wrong. The heavens seem not torn open, but sealed and silent – as they do so much of the time even today. (2)

          The Baptism of the Lord is a great day to celebrate the tearing open of the heavens and the words spoken to us by God. The coming stretch of Ordinary time will carry us into the hard work of discipleship, when the will of God can seem so elusive and the power of God so absent. But before Mark takes us on that journey, his Gospel gives us a moment to taste and see and hear the goodness of the Lord. (2)

          So this morning, I invite you to remember your own baptism as we gather around the Lord’s table. As you come forward to receive communion, I invite you to reach into the baptism fount and take a shell to remind you that you are a child of God. And God is well pleased with you, just as you are.

          May God be praised. Amen.

1. Mary Pugh, Connections: Year B, Vol. 1, Westminster John Knox Press, 2020, p 181.

2. Ted A. Smith, Feasting on the Word: Year B, Vol. 1, Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p 241.

3. Ibid… p 241.

12-24-2023 A Christmas Lullaby

Thomas J Parlette
“A Christmas Lullaby”
A Story by Dan Schrom (1)
12/24/23, Christmas Eve

          She sat at her desk with pen in hand, putting the finishing touches on the anthem she had spent so long completing. This would be her greatest work, her magnum opus – she was sure of it. Note by note, word by word, stanza by stanza, she reviewed the anthem. “Everything must be right,” she thought. “Everything must be perfect.”

          Her name was Chara. She was the angelic choirmaster. Her name literally meant “joy”, and it was an appropriate name for her. Over the centuries, the songs her choir of angels sang to women and men of faith brought joy to their hearts, even in the midst of hopeless and desperate situations.

          Chara was interrupted by a knock at her chamber door, and she responded with a slightly annoyed, “Come in.”

          The door slowly swung open and there stood Gabriel. Chara and Gabriel had worked closely together during recent months. When Gabriel was given an especially important assignment from the Lord, he often came to Chara to ask her to write a special song of praise or rejoicing. Songs had already been written for Elizabeth and Zechariah. She was especially proud of the song she had composed for Mary – people were calling The Magnificat, high praise indeed. Now she was preparing the greatest of all heavenly anthems – the one announcing the birth of the Messiah.

          “Gabriel, my friend, what can I do for you?”

          “Dear Chara, I am checking to see how the anthem is coming, answered Gabriel, with a touch of apprehension in his voice. He could not remember when so much of Chara’s time had been consumed by one assignment.

          Chara smiled an exhausted smile and held up a golden scroll. “It is finished. The choir begins rehearsal tomorrow.”

          Gabriel smiled broadly. “Wonderful,” he said, half excited, and half relieved. “Just wonderful. Well, I’ll let you get back to your work.”

          With that, Gabriel left Chara’s chamber.

          Chara sat embracing the scroll upon which she had written her angelic anthem. She tried to imagine what it would be like to lead the choir in her finest composition. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace.” Chara wondered where the choir would be assigned to sing these words of rejoicing.

She imagined her choir of angels hovering over the temple in Jerusalem. Imagine the look of amazement on the faces of the priests when the birth of the Messiah was announced. The magnificent temple would be overshadowed by the splendor of her angelic choir.

          Or perhaps the Lord God had chosen to have her choir overwhelm the sense of the emperor himself and his court in Rome. The one who had the audacity to claim to be a god himself would be quaking in royal robes at the news that God’s son had been born. And what a splendid sight it would be to gaze upon the newborn Messiah! Surely the beauty of his royal nursery would be breathtaking, revealing his glorious heritage. Kings and Queens of all nations would fall to their knees before in fear and trembling. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace.” Yes, it would be a glorious moment indeed.

          Chara’s thoughts were interrupted when her chamber door slowly began to open, and she heard Gabriel’s voice calling to her. She invited in and asked, “What brings you back so soon?”

          “Dear, dear Chara” – uh-oh, she knew she was in trouble right away. A double “dear” before her name always meant Gabriel was about to ask a big favor. “When I came to your chamber before, it was to tell you of another assignment. I was so excited to hear that you completed your anthem, I forgot to ask…”

          “Another assignment/ Wait a minute. I have worked day and night for weeks on this anthem, I begin rehearsals tomorrow; I’m running short on time, and you come with another assignment? Gabriel, you ask too much.”

          “It is not my request,” said Gabriel. “This assignment comes from the very top.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “from the Lord God.”

          Chara looked startled and said nothing for a few moments. Then in a soft, measured voice, she asked, “What does the Lord God want me to do?”

          “A lullaby,” answered Gabriel. “The Lord God wants you to write a lullaby to calm and comfort the newborn king.”

          ‘A lullaby,” said Chara. She thought for a moment and her wrinkled brow gave way to a half-smile. “A lullaby,” she repeated, letting herself get used to the idea. Now there was a touch of delight in her voice. “Please tell the Lord God that it would be my honor to write a lullaby for the new born king.”

          Gabriel, a little startled by the ease with which he had delivered the message and received a response, left without a word.

          A lullaby,” Chara repeated to herself. A lullaby for Mary to sing to her newborn son as she rocks him to sleep for the first time. “What a privilege,” she said out loud and was startled by the sound of her own voice. She reached for another scroll and slowly began to write a lullaby fit for the Son of God.

          Weeks passed. The choir of angels was weary due to the marathon practices Chara had demanded of them. The lullaby was ready to bring comfort and reassurance to the newborn king. All that remained were the final instructions from the Lord God and the great event would unfold.

          When the moment finally arrived, all the participants were assembled together. There was Chara, standing straight and tall in front of her choir, beaming with anticipation as Gabriel entered the Assembly Hall. Gabriel raised his arm, clearly displaying a golden scroll in hand. All grew silent when they saw the royal seal, meaning these instructions had come from the very hand of God. Ceremoniously, Gabriel broke the seal and began to read. He said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the scroll for what seemed like an eternity.

          Finally, Chara could not contain herself any longer. “What is our destination, Gabriel? Where are we going? Please tell us – is it Jerusalem?”

          “No, not Jerusalem.” Gabriel muttered.

          Chara’s eyes lit up. “Then it’s Rome, isn’t it? We’re going to the very center of the earthly empire to make our birth announcement.”

          “No, it’s not Rome. We are going,” Gabriel paused for just a moment, “to Bethlehem.”

          “Bethlehem?” blurted out Clara. “But Gabriel, there’s nothing in Bethlehem, nothing but sheep and shepherds.”

          Chara hoped her worst fears were unfounded, but the look in Gabriel’s eyes heightened her concern.

          Gabriel read the royal decree to the whole heavenly host with clarity and confidence. “You shall go to Bethlehem to announce the birth of the Messiah to the shepherds watching over their flocks. Thus declares the Sovereign Lord.”

          Chara tried to hide her disappointment, but her scowl gave away her emotions. Gabriel looked her straight in the eye and walked her direction. He stopped a few feet in front of her. “I know you’re disappointed,” he whispered. “I’m as surprised as you, but maybe this will make up for it.” Gabriel reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a small scroll containing the royal seal. “You are to deliver this personally.”

          The lullaby. In all the excitement, surprise and disappointment, Chara had forgotten about the lullaby. But just as she was about to open it, an archangel arrived from the presence of God to declare, “It is time. Fulfill your assignment to the glory of Almighty God.”

          Chara hurriedly tucked the little scroll in her robe. She turned to give orders to her angelic choir who nervously assembled and prepared for their all-important performance. The plan was this – Gabriel would precede them, announcing the good news of great joy for all people. After the announcement, Chara would move the choir into position to sing their heavenly anthem to the glory of God and in celebration of the holy birth.

          When they arrived in Bethlehem, Chara was disappointed to discover that their audience consisted of just 11 shepherds – not what she had in mind. It was growing late by earthy calculations, and half of them were asleep. The others were wandering around, not too far from the campfires, making sure the sheep were safe. At the sight of Gabriel and the glory of the Lord that surrounded him, the shepherds nearly jumped out of their skins. Those that had been asleep awoke with a start. One tried to jump to his feet, but got caught up in his robe and tripped, falling face first to the ground as if he’d been tackled. Another one shrieked and ran off into the night. Those who were left fell to their knees in terror.

          “Do not be afraid,” declared Gabriel – but it was too late. The shepherds were visibly shaking. “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.” He told them that the Savior, the long-awaited Messiah, had been born that very day in their town of Bethlehem. They would know they had found him when they discovered a newborn wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

          “Swaddling clothes?” Chara whispered to herself. “A manger? You got to be kidding me – This can’t be right.” The Messiah, the Savior, the Son of God should be born in a palace and laid in a crib made of gold – not a simple feed trough for animals.

          While Chara struggled with this strange good news, she almost missed her cue. Just in the nick of time she regained her composure and moved her choir into place. At the very first note of the heavenly anthem, the shepherds, whom Gabriel had managed to half-way calm down, went into another panic. Those who had managed to stand up, once more fell to the ground. The anthem continued, but Chara wondered if the tiny audience even heard a note of it. As the choir sang the final stanza, Chara motioned for all to depart. Suddenly the shepherds were alone in the dark and the silence, their hearts pounding, and their heads filled with strange and wonderful good news.

          Chara thanked her choir for their fine performance and the choir members quickly dispersed, as confused as their choirmaster. Chara was about to return to her chamber when she felt the little scroll she had tucked in her robe. “The lullaby, I almost forgot. I must go and teach the lullaby to Mary to sing to the new born Messiah.”

          Chara made her way back to Bethlehem and found the house where Mary and Joseph were staying. To her surprise, the shepherds were there too. Apparently, despite all the confusion, they had gotten the message and had come to witness this miraculous event.

          Chara prepared to approach Mary and whisper the lullaby in her ear, so she could sing it to her child, but she was distracted by the entrance of a man and a little girl. The man bowed before Joseph and said, “Excuse me sir, we live just across the way. My daughter Rebekah found out about the birth of your child and would like to see him. Please excuse her silence, but she can neither hear nor speak. She has been that way since birth. May she just take a quick peek at the baby and then we will leave you.”

          Mary nodded and Joseph invited her to come take a peek. The girl looked up at her father and, with an approving smile, he nudged her forward. Slowly, she approached the manger that had become a cradle. She gazed with wonder at the tiny baby lying in a manger. Though she did not utter a sound, the look on her face spoke volumes. She had not received an angelic birth announcement like the shepherds or heard Chara’s anthem sung by the choir of angels. Yet, the wonder in her eyes and the joy upon her face declared that she somehow realized the specialness of this moment. That’s when Chara moved forward, silently, invisibly, as only angels can, to teach her the lullaby. But instead of whispering in Mary’s ear – she whispered into the ears of the little girl who could not hear, at least she could not hear human words. Chara began to sing the lullaby into the silent little girl’s ears. And suddenly, to the amazement of all, the child began to repeat the song, word by word, note by note, line by line. When the last note had been sung, Chara gave the little girl an angelic kiss, and melted away into the night.

          A quiet knock announced that someone was at Chara’s door. She sat silently in her chamber and did not acknowledge the visitor. After several more knocks, the door opened and there stood Gabriel.

          “Chara is something wrong – why didn’t you answer the door?”

          Chara looked visibly shaken. “I think I made a big mistake Gabriel.” She held out the little golden scroll with the royal seal. “I know I was to teach the lullaby to Mary, but I didn’t. I taught it to someone else.”

          Gabriel stepped forward and took the scroll. “Chara, I can tell by the unbroken seal, you did not read this.” So Gabriel broke the seal, opened it, and read it. He looked at Chara, then the scroll, then at Chara again. “It says nothing here about teaching the lullaby to Mary. Here, read it for yourself.”

          Chara took the scroll and read: “Teach the lullaby prepared for the Messiah to the child Rebekah, whom I have invited.”

          A smile broke over Chara’s face as she finally understood. The newborn Messiah had not come into the world to impress high priests or visit emperors. He had come for the sake of the humble everyday people, those who struggle, are frightened or who have obstacles to overcome. And, on this holy night, it was clear he had come into the world for a little girl who could hear angels sing – whose childlike wonder and faith resulted in a surprising Christmas Lullaby.

          So on this Christmas Eve, let us be attentive to the angels song.

          “Praise be to God, Christ the Savior is born.”

          Shall we pray…
 

1. Dan Schomer, “A Christmas Lullaby” Beyond the Tinsel: Short Stories for Christmas Eve, Resource Publications, 2021.

12-24-2023 On the Brink of Christmas

Thomas J Parlette
“On the Brink of Christmas”
Luke 1: 26-56
12/24, 10:00 am only
 

          As we stand on the brink of Christmas this morning, we have the unique opportunity to hear the story of Gabriel visiting Mary on the same day when we will gather later to remember Jesus’ birth.

          Usually, the story of the Annunciation and Mary’s Magnificat get separated by at least a few days – but not this year. This year we get the whole story over the course of one day.

          The story of this intimate, yet potentially terrifying story is one of the most beloved in the Bible. I wonder, why do we love it so much? Is it the angel coming forward to announce that God intends to break into our messy world? Or is it Mary’s courage in saying “Let it be with me as you say,” that is so appealing? I’m not sure.

          Throughout the centuries, artists have rendered the annunciation scene in very formal strokes, preserving Mary and the angel Gabriel for posterity in wood, paint and glass. While their styles and colors have varied, Mary is always the picture of femininity, dressed in silk or brocade - usually blue, with her golden hair woven like a crown around her head. She always looks very composed and serene – not at all like what we might expect a girl in her early teen years to look. She was probably between 13 and 15 years old, with almost no experience with men, or angels or the world for that matter.

         She is usually shown spinning or reading at her prayer desk, absorbed in her work, when out of nowhere comes this magnificent angel, beautifully dressed with a tiara on his head or a garland of flowers studded with flames. In most pictures the feathers of his giant spread wings are white, but I at least one medieval painting they are the feathers of peacock, all iridescent greens and blues. In his hand, he might have a lily, an olive branch, or a royal scepter – signs of the purity, peace and authority he brings from above.

         Somewhere in the annunciation scene you can usually find a dove, a sign that what is happening is under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, but down below, everything depends on Mary. Gabriel is not standing over her; he is kneeling in front of the girl upon whose answer he, and God, and the whole creation depend. (1)

         There are some legends that have arisen over the years around this beloved story. For instance, in Nazareth, where these events took place, there is a local tradition that has Gabriel appearing to Mary at a well, as she is fetching water. At first, she is terrified by her angelic visitor and she ran back home, with Gabriel following close behind, trying to finish his message. Perhaps that explains why Gabriel tells her, “Do not be afraid, Mary.” (2)

         There is yet another legend that Mary was not the first person asked to be the God-bearer, but rather she was the first to say “Yes.” (3)

         Then again – did Gabriel actually ask her a question? When you read the text carefully, there is no question. There doesn’t seem to be an obvious choice to make. The angel TELLS her what is going to happen. The angel doesn’t ask Mary if she would like to be the mother of God. Gabriel doesn’t appear to be asking her to sign a consent form here. No- Gabriel just tells her – this is what is going to happen. “You are going to conceive and bear a son and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and he will be called the Son of the Most High…”

         In response, Mary asks only one question – “How can this be?” It’s actually pretty amazing that she only asks one question. Don’t you think she’d have a lot more?

         Questions like:

         * Will Joseph stick around?

         * What will my parents say?

         * Am I going to be ostracized and maybe even stoned to death by my neighbors for sleeping around?

         * Will my pregnancy go alright?

         * What if I lose the baby?

         * Will it hurt?

         * Is someone going to be there when my time comes?

         * Will I know what to do?

         * Will I be a good mother?

         * Who will take care of us?

         All good questions. Questions all moms-to-be wonder about.

         Luke does not tell us that Mary asked any of these questions, at least not out loud. But I’ve always thought that this is one of times in scripture when there is a long pause. I don’t think Mary responded as quickly as we like to think. I think she sat in silence for a time as she pondered all this. After a while though, faithfulness triumphed over fear and she responded, “Let it be as you say.”

         Even though Gabriel tells her what is going to happen, there is still a choice here. Mary can embrace what is going to happen – or she can choose not to accept it. She could take hold of this unknown life the angel held out to her or she could defend herself against it as best she could.

         We’ve all had similar choices to be made – not on the scale that Mary was faced with, but we’ve all had choices laid before us that we could accept or ignore.

         We’re all familiar with the idea that we make our plans and God laughs. That saying used to bother me because it seemed like God might be laughing in derision – but I don’t think that anymore. Now I believe God laughs at our plans because God has some surprises for us that we don’t see coming.

         Sure, we can make a carefully laid out 10-year plan, but then life happens. We fall in love, a surprise baby comes along, an illness comes upon us or the economy turns. Terrible things happen and wonderful things happen, but we seldom know ahead of time exactly WHAT will happen to us. Like Mary, our choices often boil down to “yes” or “no.”

         Yes, I will live this life that is being held out to me – or, No, I will not. (4)

         If you decide to say no, you simply drop your eyes and refuse to look up until you know the angel has left the room and you are alone again. Then you smooth your hair and go back to your spinning or your reading or whatever it is that in most familiar to you and you pretend that nothing has happened. If your life begins to change anyway, you have several options. You can be stoic. You can refuse to accept it. You can put all your energy into ignoring it and insist that in spite of all the evidence that it is not happening to you. (5)

         If that doesn’t work, you can become angry, actively defending yourself against the unknown and spending all your time trying to get your life back the way it used to be. And then of course you can become bitter, comparing yourself to everyone that seems to have a better life than you. If you succeed, your life may not be an easy one, but you can rest assured that no angels will trouble you ever again. (6)

         Or, you can decide to say “Yes.” You can decide to take a risk. You can set everything else aside and listen to this strange creature’s strange proposal. You can decide to take part in a plan you did not choose, doing things you do not know how to do, for reasons you do not entirely understand. You can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body.

         Deciding to say “Yes” doesn’t mean that you are not afraid, by the way. It just means that you are not willing to let your fear stop you, that you are not willing to let your fear keep you locked in your room. So you say “Yes” to the angel and “Here I am, let it be with me according to your word.” (7)

         The Eastern Orthodox church thinks of Mary as the “god-bearer” – a translation of the Greek word “Theotokos.” The medieval theologian Meister Eckhart once wrote:

         “We are all meant to be mothers of God – God-bearers. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the Divine Son takes place unceasingly but does not take place within myself? And what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I cannot also be full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of God is begotten in us.” (8)

         When we say yes to being yet another “Theotokos”, we say “Yes” to bearing God into our messy and messed up world once more.

         If Meister Eckhart is right that we are all mothers of God, how is God asking us to bear God into our world?

         Can we say “Yes” to God’s intrusive, almost impossible sounding invitation?

         Can we say “Yes” to new horizons, new possibilities and new lives – for ourselves personally, and collectively as First Presbyterian Church?

         I hope so. As we stand on the brink of Christmas, I hope you will ponder these things in your heart. And as you do, know this:

         The Lord is with you. The Lord is with us. Do not be afraid. For nothing will be impossible with God.

         May God be praised. Amen.

1. Barbara Brown Taylor, “Mothers of God”, Gospel Medicine, Cowley Publications, 1995, p 164-165.

2. Katie Kirk, The Christian Century, December 2023, p 27.

3. James R. Luck Jr., Feasting on the Gospels, Westminster John Knox Press, 2014, p 16.

4. Barbara Brown Taylor, “Mothers of God”, Gospel Medicine, Cowley Publications, 1995, p 166.

5. Ibid… p 166-167.

6. Ibid… p 167.

7. Ibid… p 167.

8. Ibid… p 168.

11-26-2023 Come Listen to a Story 'bout a Man Named Henry

Thomas J Parlette
“Come Listen to a Story ‘bout a Man Named Henry”
Matthew 25: 31-46
11/26/23 

          Each year, I visit my doctor for no particular reason. I get my blood drawn, they run all sorts of tests and I go in for a wellness check-up. My blood pressure gets checked, my lungs, my oxygen rate, my weight – all that stuff. If my cholesterol comes back high, I know I’ve got to make some adjustments – eat more salads, more chicken, a few less “fun-size” candy bars, add a few more walks around the block or around the church hallways every hour or so. Same thing with those HDL and LDL numbers – bring the good one up and the bad one down.

          My wellness check is not something I enjoy, I often try to avoid it or put it off for awhile, but I know it’s necessary, and it might save my life – so I do it.

          In many ways, you could think of this passage from Matthew today as a wellness check.(1) This description of the final judgement often comes across as a threat, it has been used over the years to incite fear in those who hear about the judgement of the sheep and the goats. But there is also great comfort and assurance to be found here too.

          In many ways, Jesus is re-telling the passage we heard from Ezekiel. There we heard straight from God –“ I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out… I will rescue them… I will bring them out…I will feed them… I will seek the lost and I will bring back the strayed, I will bind up the injured and I will strengthen the weak, but the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them with justice…”

          And, yes, there will be judgment…

          “I will save my flock, and they shall no longer be ravaged; and I will judge between sheep and sheep. I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David…”

          Jesus tells much the same story, but instead, frames the judgment as coming from the Son of Man, when all nations will be gathered for a  great “Sorting.”

          There are two basic schools of thought about what that phrase “all the nations” means. Is it referring to a judgment of all non-Jews or does it include literally all the nations – Jews and Gentiles alike? Most scholars today lean toward this as a judgment of everyone – Jews, Gentiles, Christians, Muslims – everyone, of all nations, as it says.

          Either way, it seems clear that what we do matters. How we treat others matters more than how we view various doctrines and religions. This passage seems to be saying that we are saved by how we treat others. Which seems to be in direct conflict with what Paul tells us about being saved by grace alone. In the book of James, James leans very heavily into the idea of good works – he would probably like Jesus story here today much more than Paul.

          We are saved by grace alone, as a gift that God gives us, not ne anything we do. But Jesus wants to make sure that we know that that doesn’t get us off the hook entirely. Yes – we are saved by grace. But, what we do matters. How we treat others, especially the least of these, is important.

          So, I invite you to “Come listen to a story ‘bout a man named Henry” – Henry James to be exact. Henry was only 20 years old in 1981 when, after helping a neighbor repair his car, he was misidentified as the man who had attacked that neighbor’s wife. Although the woman initially stated that she didn’t know her attacker, she later picked Henry – a neighbor with whom she was acquainted – from a photo line-up. The evidence that would have exonerated him – the results of serological that excluded him as the attacker – was not presented to the judge or jury by Henry’s court-appointed lawyer.

          Henry was tried, convicted, and sentenced to life in prison without parole for a crime he did not commit.

          For the next 30 years, Henry persevered through the harsh conditions of the Louisiana State prison at Angola. For about 10 of those years he labored in the prison fields, from sunup to sundown, picking cotton, potatoes, tomatoes, okra, cabbage, greens and other crops, earning a maximum of 4 cents an hour. (Because the 13th Amendment abolished slavery “except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted,” Angola’s is believed to be legal.) He tried to avoid any infraction that could land him in solitary confinement. For 30 years, he missed out on his children’s lives and on finding a vocation for himself.

          Unable to read or write well, Henry worked to teach himself those skills so that he could one day write to innocence teams to ask for help. Along the way he learned that he was a pretty good woodworker, able to craft a variety of furnishings. Word spread about woodworking abilities, and he was able to earn a few dollars to help his family.

          Henry was willing to toe the line and do whatever it took to prove his innocence, once and for all.

          By 2005 he’d heard of the Innocence Project and wrote to ask for help. The national organization, together with Innocence Project New Orleans, began the search for evidence in his case but were told that it had been lost. Neither Henry nor the Innocence Project gave up hope. By 2010, the Innocence Project filed a motion to compel a search for the missing evidence from Henry’s case. A Louisiana crime lab official named Milton Dureau searched for the evidence but turned up nothing.

          A year later, while searching for an evidence file for another case, Dureau stumbled upon Henry’s file and the evidence. The long-awaited DNA testing confirmed that Henry was not the attacker. On October 21st, 2011 – he was freed.

          With no money or even photo identification, and with only the few pieces of clothing he’d been given by the lawyer’s representing him, Henry found a home at a nonprofit called Resurrection after Exoneration, which provides transitional housing and supportive resources for 6 months to a year for newly released inmates. Resurrection specializes in the personal touch – it’s capacity is limited to 3 people at a time. Henry was the 15th person to reside there.

          Henry is, to date, the longest-serving prisoner to be exonerated in Louisiana. He had been inside a prison cell longer than he had been alive before he was imprisoned.(2)

          “Truly I tell you, as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me… Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

          Jesus leaves us with some stinging words that should function as a wellness check. How we treat others matter. Jesus challenges us to see him in the faces of our neighbors who may look different, speak a different language, or suffered in ways we cannot comprehend.

       Do we see all of our neighbors as family, interconnected with us to our Creator?
       Do we understand how our actions may shape the fate of a neighbor?
       Do we believe that the ways in which we respond to the needs of the suffering around us reflect the ways in which we respond to God.(3)

Our actions matter. How we treat others matters.

Henry James was freed because no one gave up – not Henry, not the Innocence Project, not that crime lab official who recognized evidence from Henry’s case when he stumbled upon the long lost file.

 Henry was freed because he was visited in prison. Henry was freed because lawyers listened and preserved in the search for evidence that could exonerate him. Henry was clothed because his legal team recognized he couldn’t get out of prison with just a couple of t-shirts and a pair of jeans. Henry was sheltered because a non-profit provided a true home for him – and time for him to be introduced to a society that he never got a chance to know.

Henry moved on to freedom because someone was able, at last, to look beyond accusations and see the face of Jesus in this neighbor, and refused to give up on him.(4)

When we read these hard words from Jesus today with trust in the faithful God that Ezekiel speaks about, the focus shifts from a prospect of damnation to the possibility of participation in the coming kingdom of heaven and eternal life. Ultimately, the lesson of the sheep and the goats is good news, because it asks us each to share precisely what we can in bringing justice and mercy to this world. That is the true center of this passage. Whether it is food and water, a compassionate ear or an open heart – everyone has something to share. Parishioners of all tenures – longtime members and visitors alike – should be enlivened by this passage – not threatened – for it calls us to serve in ways that are firmly within our grasp. (5)

We may not like warnings and wellness check, because, let’s be honest, they often mean we have to change some of our habits and recalibrate our lives. But they do help provide a critical overview of wellness – both physically and spiritually. We would be wise to listen.

May God be praised. Amen.

1. Lindsay P. Armstrong, Feasting On the Word, John Knox Press, 2011, p. 333.
2. Dorothy Sanders Wells, The Christian Century, November 2023, p. 27.
3. Ibid… p. 27.
4. Ibid… p.27.
5. Robert M. McClellan, Feasting On the Gospels, Westminster John Knox Press, 2013, p. 268.         

11-19-2023 Under the Palm of Deborah

Thomas J Parlette
“Under the Palm of Deborah”
Judges 4: 1-7
11/19/23
 

          We don’t hear much from the book of Judges. In fact, this is the only time anything from Judges makes it into our lectionary. Judges begins with Joshua and the conquest of Judah and documents a period of time when a variety of leaders led Israel against their enemies.

          Judges is actually not a great name for this book for the “judges” referred to are not legal authorities, they are not judges that sit in a courtroom, with black robes and gavels making decisions on points of law. They are instead advisors, counselors, and sometimes military strategists who lead Israel against their foes.

          After Moses and Joshua, the Israelites increasingly turned away from God and turned instead to idols and other Gods. The book of Judges documents the temptations and mis-steps that the Israelites made.  Judges is one of those books that is filled with violent stories of war and excessive violence. Along with Joshua, this is one of those books that cause people to say things like:

          “Let’s not study the Old Testament. There’s too much violence and killing.”

          Or, “I just don’t like the Old Testament. God is so wrathful and vengeful. I prefer the New Testament where God is love.”

          Or even, “How could God tell the Israelites to kill the Canaanites and all those other people? Didn’t Jesus tell us to love our enemies, not kill them.”

          That’s probably why we only hear from the book of Judges once in our three-year cycle. We tend to focus our attention on the New Testament, especially the Gospels.

          But we mustn’t forget that there is much more to our Bibles than Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and the letters of Paul. Even a casual reader soon realizes that the “Good Book” is really an eclectic collection of laws, letters, short stories, historical biography, poetry and prophecy. Even though it was written by many different people, with many different viewpoints over the course of hundreds of years, the Bible nevertheless hangs together as the story of God and Humanity.

          But since there are so many different kinds of stories in the Bible, different passages place different demands on us as listeners and interpreters. Some passages, for example, are just plain difficult to understand. Some stories just sit there on the page with their arms folded, lips tightly sealed, staring off into the distance while we try to figure out what they mean.

          Jesus putting that curse on an innocent fig tree – that’s a difficult story.

          Or the one in 2nd Kings about the bears mauling 42 youngsters because they made fun of Elisha’s receding hairline – that’s a tough one. I guarantee you won’t be hearing a children’s sermon on that one anytime soon.

          Other texts, though, place a burden not so much on our ability to understand as they do on our ability to carry them out. We understand well enough, but living by them is another story. Mark Twain once said that what troubled him about the Bible was not what he failed to understand, but rather what he understood quite clearly and yet failed to accomplish. For instance, Jesus said, “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other as well…” Have you ever tried to really out those words? It’s tough. The burden of such a passage is more in trying to follow the instructions than in figuring them out.

          Now there’s probably a third category here as well. There are some passages which place a burden on our ability to accept them. It isn’t a question of not understanding or not being able to follow through. The difficulty lies in the fact that, when you get right down to it, we simply don’t like the text. Such is the case with this story today. For whatever reason, the lectionary leaves off rather abruptly at the seventh verse. However, the story itself doesn’t conclude there, and to get a real sense of what a scandalous passage this is, one needs to read a bit further.

          Curiously enough, the story actually begins in a somewhat understated, almost casual, matter of fact fashion: “The Israelites again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord. So the Lord sold them into the hand of King Jabin of Cannan, where the commander of the army was Sisera.”

          At the time, “Deborah was judging Israel,” from under the palm that was named for her. Deborah was Israel’s only female judge, but it was hardly a token appointment. Like an ancient E.F. Hutton, when Deborah spoke – people listened. And from all accounts, she was forceful, but fair. She was courageous, and compassionate. She favored no one and was attentive to everyone.

          One day, Deborah summons Barak, Israel’s military leader, and insists that he start preparing for war against the mighty Canaanites. At first, Barak can hardly believe what he is hearing. After all, in the past, the Canaanite army, led by Jabin, had proven to be a rather powerful enemy – possessing 900 iron chariots. And they had history on their side – they had already been oppressing Israel for some 20 years.

          For awhile, Barak stands there with a puzzled squint, and when he finally does manage to stammer out a few words, they are punctuated with half-hearted reluctance: “If you will go with me, I will go – but if you won’t go, I’m not going.” Deborah agrees to go, but feels it’s only fair to warn him in advance that the bragging rights for this battle are not to be his. “The road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.

          A-HA! We of course assume that that woman will be Deborah herself. But as the battle draws to a close, with the Israelites victorious, we see Sisera running for the hills, seemingly to safety, leaving Deborah behind. Oh well, so much far prophecy.

          That night, however, Sisera meets a woman named Jael, just before he crosses the border. He accepts her hospitality and stays for food and drink and spends the night. But as Sisera sleeps, Jael creeps into his tent and kills him by putting a tent stake through his temple.

          Upon hearing the news, Deborah is as pleased as she can be, her predictions have come true. While she doesn’t exactly dance on Sisera’s grave, she does break out into a triumphant 31 verse song, glorifying the whole gruesome story.

          Now, I know it isn’t easy to be fond of a text like this. It’s a strange story. What makes it especially difficult is that we are called to accept the kind of God who would instigate a story like this.

          But then again, this isn’t the first time God has done something surprising, something we don’t anticipate. In fact, expecting the unexpected seems to be a common refrain in the story line of scripture.

          Who could have predicted what would happen to Abraham and Sarah. A couple in their golden years would have their wishes fulfilled with the arrival of their first child. Or, how about Jacob, a juvenile delinquent who grew up into a two-bit con man and known liar who would be chosen and blessed by God. Or, the great Moses, the stuttering fugitive, wanted for murder in Egypt, who would be chosen to lead the Hebrew people out of bondage and right to the edge of the Promised Land.

          And who have guessed that the Son of God would be born out of wedlock to a teenage mother. Nowadays, Mary would probably end up on daytime TV as evidence of “today’s troubled teens.”

          God is always doing something surprising, something unexpected. Working through people no one would choose, doing things no one could predict. And maybe that’s the point. After all, if we knew in advance what God would do, if we could calculate God’s goodness or deduce God’s plans – it wouldn’t be grace. Grace is supposed to be a surprise.

          The well-known preacher, Fred Craddock, enjoys sharing the story of the time he returned to the little church of his childhood. He had not visited there for years and walking into the sanctuary, he was surprised to see that they had purchased new stained glass windows. Inscribed at the bottom of each was the name of the donor – but to his dismay, Craddock was not familiar with any of them.

          “You must’ve had a good many people join this congregation since I was a boy,” he remarked to a woman after the worship service, “because I don’t recognize a single name.”

          “Oh those people aren’t members here,” she said. “This town hasn’t grown a bit, and for that matter, neither has our church.”

          “Then how did you get these beautiful windows?”

          “Well that’s kind of an interesting story. You see they were made by an Italian company for a church in St. Louis. Unfortunately, when they arrived, none of them fit. The company apologized of course, and said they would make new windows. But they were too expensive to ship back, so the company told the church in St. Louis to sell them wherever they could. We bought the windows from that church.”

          “But don’t you want to remove these names?”

          “Well, we thought about that. We’re just a little church you know. Not many of us here anymore, and never any new people. So we finally decided it was important for us to remember all those folks we’ll never meet, through whom the Lord is working in ways we’ll never know. And it’s nice to have a few new names around here at least. So, I guess, in a way, we have grown a bit.”

          A nice surprise indeed, when God works through people we’ll never meet to accomplish God’s plans for the church. J. Clinton McCann has written in his commentary on Judges that the reason we recount these stories, even the gory, unsettling ones, is that they serve as a warning grounded in hope. The book of Judges shows that when we do not worship and serve God, the results are destructive and ultimately deadly. But the point is that God is faithful and full of grace even when we are unfaithful.

          Jesus spoke of the surprising nature of grace, and ultimately it’s value when he told about finding a buried treasure, or a pearl of great value, and going right to the nearest ATM machine to withdraw all your money and purchase it. God’s grace is unpredictable and surprising. And ultimately of great value.

          That’s the way God’s grace works. Being unpredictable is part of the gift. It’s always meant to be surprising, because grace is never something we get on our own – grace is always freely given. Working at grace is like trying to fall in love – more often you can’t make it happen, it just happens. We can’t predict it any more than we can deserve it. We don’t expect it, we experience it. Small wonder that God’s ways sometimes appear so strange and incomprehensible. How could they be otherwise? After all, they are God’s ways, not ours.

          I’ll go with you,” Deborah tells Barak, “but the glory of this day shall not be yours.” Expect the unexpected.

          I admit, it’s not easy to like a story like this. But rather than asking whether we can live with a God who acts in such ways, perhaps a better question might be – Can any of us really afford to live without such a God. A God who remains faithful, even when we turn away. A God who gives us grace in such surprising and unexpected ways.

          May God be praised. Amen.

11-12-2023 Waiting with Eyes Wide Open

Thomas J Parlette
“Waiting with Eyes Wide Open”
Matthew 25: 1-13
11/12/23
 

          A number of years ago, someone gave me a copy of a poem about when the world was going to end. I tucked it away in my sermon folders and I dug it out as I thought about this passage for today. It says:

          “Absolute knowledge I have none,
          But my aunt’s housekeeper’s son
          Heard a policeman on his beat
          Say to a laborer on the street
          That he had a letter just last week
          Written in finest classical Greek,
          From a mystic in Timbuktu
          Who said the farmers in Cuba knew of a man in a Texas town
          Who got it straight from a circus clown
          That a man in the Klondike heard the news
          From a group of American Jews
          About somebody in Borneo
          Who heard a man claim to know of a miner named Jake,
          Whose mother in law will undertake to prove
          That her seventh husband’s sister’s niece
          Had stated in a printed piece
          That she had a son who has a friend
          Who knows when the world will end.”
 

The end of the world and when it will happen has been on people’s minds since the beginning of time itself. In particular, Christians have always been interested in Jesus’ second coming. When will Jesus come back? How will we know, what are the warning signs? Who is Jesus going to take with him and what will happen to those who have already passed away?

In our first reading we heard from Paul as he offered assurances to the church in Thessalonica that those living and those who have died “will be caught up in the clouds together to meet the Lord Jesus in the air.”

Then we heard from Jesus himself as he tells the parable of the Ten bridesmaids. Five were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones didn’t take any extra oil with them, while the wise ones made sure they had extra flasks of oil. The bridegroom was delayed – we don’t know why – and all of them fell asleep. Their lamps went out, and the foolish bridesmaids had to make a quick trip to the store, and while they were away, the bridegroom shows up and everybody goes into the wedding banquet and the doors are shut behind them. The foolish ones return and try to plead their way into the banquet, but the bridegroom isn’t having it – “Sorry, I don’t know you.”

The moral of the story – be prepared. Nobody knows the day or the hour. Christ’s return, the kingdom of heaven will arrive without warning, like a thief in the night. So be ready. Wait with your eyes wide open.

As we move deeper into fall, we in Minnesota are acutely aware of being prepared. Now is the time to start up the snow-blower and make sure it’s running okay. Now is the time to check our tires to make sure we’ve got enough tread for winter driving. Now is the time to dig out the winter coats, the hats, the gloves, the scarves and the boots. We don’t want to get caught off-guard when that first big snow comes.

I like the story about a Christmas parade in North Carolina. Many civic groups and school organizations would make floats on flatbed trucks and drive through town. One year a group of guys from a local fraternity entered a float that confused everyone. On the flatbed were about a dozen guys and a bunch of lumber and they were frantically sawing and hammering. Everyone wondered what kind of float this was. Puzzled expressions were everywhere in the crowd until the float passed by, and then laughter rang out as the crowd could see the sign hung on the back of the flatbed - “We thought the parade was next week!” (1)

Isn’t that always the way. We think there’s lots of time to prepare and get ready – but then all of a sudden the deadline is upon us. Either you’re ready or you’re not.

That’s what happened here to these five foolish bridesmaids – they weren’t prepared when the time came. They had one job to do, and a pretty important one at that in the days before electric lights. It was their job to be the bearers of the light for the wedding banquet – and you need to be prepared with extra oil to do the job.

We are also called to be light bearers. That is our one job. Jesus said as much when he said “You are the light of the World.” Until Jesus comes and the Kingdom of God arrives, we are to bear God’s light in this world – so we better be prepared.

You may have noticed that the anthem the choir sang this morning is “Keep your lamps trimmed and a burnin’, the time is drawing ‘nigh”. It is of course based on this parable. This spiritual originated with enslaved people in the South. For many of us, we focus much of our attention on that rather ominous ending, with the foolish bridesmaids pounding on the locked banquet hall door trying to gain entrance and the bridegroom saying “Sorry - I don’t know you.”

 But for enslaved people in the South, this parable must have brought more comfort than concern. In their labor, in their struggle, in their abject poverty, it must have been easy to identify with both the bridesmaids who were ready, patiently waiting for the bridegroom, and with the ones who had been denied access to the party.

Surely God would see their suffering and save them. Surely the true coming of God’s kingdom would be replaced with a world order in which suffering would end and peace and justice would be brought to God’s people. On that day, surely there would be balm for their troubled souls, healing for broken bodies and spirits, comfort in their mourning, and freedom from cruel bondage.(2) Notice the encouraging words of the refrain:

          “Sisters, don’t grow weary,
          Brothers, don’t grow weary,
          Children, don’t grow weary,
          For the time is drawing nigh”

Another version of this spiritual changes that last line just a bit to read:

          “While the work be done.”

That small shift implies that God is not passive, God is working, even as we wait.

Eugene Peterson is well-known giant in the spiritual world. He’s probably best known as the writer behind the paraphrase of the bible “The Message.” In addition to his celebrity status, he is also one of the slowest talking people I have ever heard. Peterson’s son was a classmate of him at Princeton Seminary, and Peterson used to give lectures every once in awhile when he came for a visit with his son. He points out that nothing ever happens quickly in the church, or in the world, and nothing happens quickly in the Bible either. But there is a kind of “apocalyptic patience” he says, that is a basic characteristic of God’s people. They hang in there. They stick it out. They are the kind of people who are “passionately patient, courageously committed to witness and work in the Kingdom of God no matter how long it takes, or how much it costs.

“They stay at it,” he says, “because they comprehend two basic realities of the spiritual life: Mystery and Mess. Faith deals “with the vast mysteries of God and the intricacies of the messy human condition. This is going to take some time. Neither the mysteries nor the mess is simple. If we are going to learn a life of holiness in the mess of history, we are going to have to prepare for something intergenerational and think in centuries.”

God is dealing with the Mess of the human situation: we are prone to sin, we get addicted to counterfeit gods, we poison our earth. We turn on each other. Those are glimpses of the Mess – and it’s going to take time to undo.” (3)

To wait with our eyes wide open is to be patient, and continue to bring God’s light to the world, while God deals with the mess of the human condition. It was the Jewish mystic Simone Weil who once said, “Waiting in patient expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life.” (4)

Frederick Buechner, another spiritual giant, put it another way:

“So to wait for Christ to come in his fullness is not just a passive thing, a pious, prayerful, churchy thing. On the contrary, to wait for Christ to come in his fullness is above all else to act in Christ’s stead as fully as we know how. To wait for Christ is as best we can to be Christ to those who need us to be Christ to them most and to bring them the most we have of Christ’s healing and hope because unless we bring it, it may never be brought at all.” (5)

So there is comfort and encouragement to be found in this story of 10 bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom to show up. Comfort because God is still acting in the messiness of life. And encouragement because eventually the bridegroom does arrive – and the wedding feast begins.

In the meantime, we wait with our eyes wide open – making sure we’ve got plenty of oil so we’re ready to do our job as light bearers in an often dark world.

May God be praised. Amen.

1. Stephen M. Crotts, “What if the End is Near” Sermons on the Gospel Readings” CSS Publishing, 2004, p385-386.
2. Dorothy Sanders Wells, “The Christian Century”, November 2023, p25.
3. Homileticsonline, retrieved 10/20/23.
4. Ibid…
5. Ibid…