Wouldn't it be nice if parishioners paid as much attention to sermons as the news-commentators who are pillorying Obama over Rev. Wright's sermons seem to think that Obama did? Cafferty on CNN gets it: he keeps saying his pastor says lots of things he doesn't agree with.

When to cancel church?

Yesterday and last night we had about two inches of snow. I got a call around lunch time from a member who has been taking care of our property since I got here. He wanted to make sure I wasn't thinking of canceling church. I'm sure he heard the disbelief in my voice when I said, "no, I hadn't thought of it." Most of the entries to the sanctuary are cleared and it should be above freezing by the time church begins tomorrow. I asked whether anyone around here sold salt and he said the only kind of salt you could buy is rock salt for ice cream. No halite.

I figure the little old ladies won't come anyway. They don't like to come when it's cold (anything below 45 degrees).

So, when do you southerners cancel church? I can see ice storms and if this storm had come through today rather than yesterday, then we probably would have (though I probably would still giggle).

My backyard this morning

Yahweh

Text: Ephesians 5:8-14

The text this morning comes at the end of a longer passage in which the writer exhorts the readers to no longer live as unbelievers do. He asserts that unbelievers are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God because of the hardening of their hearts. He goes on to urge these Christians “to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires . . . and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Ephesians 4:22b-24) The Greek in the verbs for “put on” and “put off” are those used in removing clothes. The writer alludes to the Christians’ baptism in which they literally put off their old clothes, entered the waters of baptism and then put on new white garments which marked their new life as Christians. The author of Ephesians continues the conversation by listing practices that Christians are to follow: speaking the truth to our neighbors, not letting the sun go down on our anger, not engaging in evil talk, only what is useful in building up others, work so that we have something to share with those in need, put away bitterness, anger, wrangling and slander, being kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another. Then he urges his readers to be imitators of God, to live a life of love, to give up immorality, impurity and greed. Finally, he comes to this ending: to live as children of the light.
In their song Yahweh, U2 uses similar images as the writer of Ephesians, but not from the perspective of exhorting others, but as a cry to God to help them live as children of the light. The song begins by asking God to take articles of clothing: shoes, a polyester shirt, and make them fit and clean. The song reminds us of baptism: taking off our clothes and exchanging them for Christian garments. But, the song reflects the struggle of Christians to live into their baptism. It is not easy. One sermon I read in preparing for this sermon had lots of illustrations about being in dirty clothes and the sheer joy in exchanging a grimy body and grimy clothes for a clean body and clean clothes. If you’ve ever been camping you know how it feels to finally find a shower and swap those muddy, sweaty clothes for clean ones. Or if you’ve been gardening and you come in the house dirty and sweaty, it’s wonderful to step into the shower or bathtub and the put on clean, fresh clothes. On the other hand, I have a secret. I have an inner slob that comes out, particularly on Thursdays when I write my sermon. I stay in my pjs most of the day, my hair a mess, no make up. So despite the niceness of being clean and dressed in clean clothes, there is a pull to slobbery. And so it is with our lives. We know that we are better off to live the life the writer of Ephesians exhorts us to live, but we fall prey to the darkness. We’d rather seek revenge for the slights we encounter than to forgive. We’d rather gossip and tear someone down than build them up. We take delight in others’ misfortunes. We’d rather take our hard earned money and spend in on our selves or our families instead of handing it over to someone in need. And, yes, occasionally greed rears its ugly head in our lives. And so, we cry out to God to help us live as children of the light, as imitators of God. We cannot do it by ourselves:

Take these shoes
Click clacking down some dead end street
Take these shoes
And make them fit
Take this shirt
Polyester white trash made in nowhere
Take this shirt
And make it clean, clean
Take this soul
Stranded in some skin and bones
Take this soul
And make it sing
Take these hands
Teach them what to carry
Take these hands
Don't make a fist
Take this mouth
So quick to criticize
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss. . .
We cannot do it by ourselves. We cry out for God’s help.
Here in the song, U2 shifts metaphors in the same way that the writer of Ephesians shifts. The metaphor, the images, shift to ones of light. For the writer of Ephesians the fruit of the light is all that is good. Evil is in the darkness. The writer ends this section with what some commentators have thought was a baptism hymn: “Sleeper, awake, rise from the dead and Christ will shine on you.” U2 continues the song with the words
Still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
The sun is coming up on the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, tell me now
Why the dark before the dawn?

Take this city
A city should be shining on a hill
Take this city
If it be your will
What no man can own, no man can take
Take this heart
Take this heart
Take this heart
And make it break

One preacher writing on Ephesians said: [The writer of Ephesians] urges us not only to make our own world a cheerful place, but to widen the circle of light to include others: "Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather expose them." This preacher quotes John Grisham, in his novel, The Street Lawyer, describing the reaction of someone helping the helpless:

I was in no hurry to leave the [legal clinic for the homeless] at the end of my first day. Home was an empty attic, not much larger than any three of the cubbyholes at the Samaritan House. Home was a bedroom with no bed, a living room with cableless TV, a kitchen with a card table and no fridge... .

"So what do you think?" [a fellow lawyer] asked, pausing by the door on the way out.

"I think it's fascinating work. The human contact is inspiring."

"It'll break your heart at times."
"It already has."

"That's good. If you reach the point where it doesn't hurt, then it's time to quit."



This preacher continues: “Children of light don't quit. Jesus himself modeled what it means to walk in the light. He had a heart for "the least of these." He took up a cross. He resisted the powers of oppression and evil. His plan included working with a "Helper" who would partner with us forever. His goals involved nothing short of establishing the kingdom of the highest heaven on earth.”
Bono recalls once when he and his wife were visiting Ethiopia. A father came up, carrying his son in his arms. The child was emaciated. The father begged Bono and his wife to take the child with them. The father, Bono recalls, knew that his son would die in Africa. He was willing to give up the child so that his son might live. It will break your heart.
What breaks your heart? What do you see around you that cries out for light? Is it the children we tutor at Hanley? Is it Leigh’s stories of Ghana, of water shortages? Of men and women struggling to have enough to eat? Is it the sight of homeless men: drug addicts, alcoholics, mentally ill with no place to call home, no bed to sleep in, no place to keep their meager belongings, no treatment? Is it elderly men and women in nursing homes with few if any visitors? How is God calling you to take part in establishing the kingdom of heaven here, now? What breaks your heart?

Christian Intolerance/Anti-Semitism

The New Your Times here recounts the story of a Delaware woman who has been hounded out of her hometown because she has sued the school board for its pervasive use of "Christian" prayer in the public schools.

I am ashamed. And a bit concerned. I do not want a school board determining what is an appropriate form of prayer. I do not want a government condoning a particular brand of religion or elevating a particular from of religion. Somehow "Christians" have the idea that if they don't have the freedom to ride roughshod over persons of other religions, then they are persecuted.

Hospice Chaplain?

I keep saying that I am not called to be a hospice chaplain. Not that there is anything bad with chaplaincy; I just feel no passion there. So, here I am pastoring a dying church. I was called to help them grow, or at least thrive. But, they don't want to change. After 18 months here and a successful visioning process, it is clear to me that they are happy the way they are. There are a handful of folks who are interested in listening to God's call and follow, but most see God's call as taking care of themselves (in the collective sense). There is nothing wrong with wanting to take care of our older members, but there is more to following Christ than that, IMHO. Folks are not even interested in any sort of small group. Well, they are interested in concept, but not in showing up.

I have 18 months more on my contract as a designated. The easy path for me would be to finish the contract, assume they will call me and then do what they want until I retire (3.5 years hence). But, that feels uncomfortable for me. I feel fairly sure that if I leave, the Presbytery will push to close them. They have a disasterous record in hiring. (Part of the reason is that they say they want to grow, but they don't and so they call folks who come with ideas about growth and then the church doesn't embrace the changes needed and the pastors grow frustrated. They really want someone who will preach on Sunday, use traditional music (think classical with a paid choir), and most important visit all the elderly and go to all the PW events. But, that's not who they call. Had a long conversation with my predecessor who was there for seven years and this is the conclusion we reached. She did all sorts of wonderful things: all the right things and when I bring these up, people get really angry.) There is no endowment, so there is a finite limit on the life of this congregation.

Some organizations must die. I think this is one. I could be wrong.

I'm having trouble sorting out what I need to do. I'm trying to listen, but my own self interest gets in the way. What would I do for two years until I can retire? I need health insurance. I am much too liberal to be called to 90 percent of the churches in this presbytery. I bought a house last year and will lose $$$ if I have to sell in the next 18 months.

I am also battling what seems to be an autoimmune disease and am tired all the time. Sort of like the congregation. They are tired, they say. They have done it all. God has a sense of humor.

Thanks for listening.

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

Text: John 4:5-something or other
When I was growing up there was a song, “I will follow him, where ever he may go; he’ll always be my true love, my true love, my true love. There isn’t an ocean so deep, a mountain so high as can keep me away.” There were lots of other young girl in love songs: all with the same theme that there was a guy out there that would make you happy, complete, fulfilled. All you had to do was find him and then keep him interested and happy and you would be happy. I think this idea has been around for thousands of years. I think it’s what propelled the woman to go to the well in the middle of the day. You see wells were where women and men found husbands and wives. Moses finds his wife at the well. (It does take a little prodding from Zipporah’s father to make that match.) Issac’s servant finds Rebekah at a well. Jacob finds Rachael at a well. And so the woman comes hoping for better luck at the well. She’s had five husbands. We don’t know what happened to her husbands. Perhaps she has been left a widow five times. Because bad things happening to you then was seen as a sign of sin, people may have thought she was a sinner, but the text really doesn’t say that or that she was a sinner. The encounter with Jesus begins the way the other stories of women at the well begin. The man asks for a drink of water. So far, so good. But Jesus tells her that what she is longing for will not satisfy her. What she is looking for will not fulfill her. Before she meets Jesus, she hasn’t found what she is looking for.
U2’s song, “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For,” is a lament. The song begins as if it is a love song. They are looking for a person, the singer. They, too, have climbed the highest mountains looking for you. But, still haven’t found what they are looking for. And then the song shifts and it becomes clear that the singers are looking for God and the realm of God.

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
Well yes I’m still running

You broke the bonds and you
Loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Of my shame
You know I believed it

And yet, he still hasn’t found what he’s looking for. Some folks have looked at the words of this song and concluded that the group has lost its faith in God, in Jesus. But, others have seen something else in the song.
It is a lament for the kingdom that has not come yet, the promised realm of God, the time when there will be no difference among peoples, the time when we all will be one. The song is a song of grace, of salvation. And it is a lament for what is here, but still not yet.
I have run across this saying several times in the last few months: “God loves you just the way you are. And, God loves you too much to leave you just the way you are.” This is a statement, in personal terms, of the fact that God’s kingdom is not yet. The kingdom is not here because we are not yet the people God wants us to be.
There is a heresy in Christianity that all we have to do to be saved it to believe in Jesus. So far, so good. The heresy part is that after that we don’t have to do anything differently in our lives. What Presbyterians say is that we are saved by grace alone. We cannot earn our salvation. But, we are called to lead transformed lives, shaped by God and the Gospel in response to God’s grace in saving us: in bearing the shame as U2 would say. Our lives should reflect the grace of God’s salvation.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus gives his followers one commandment, only one: to love one another. That’s all. But, what a challenge that one commandment is. To simply love one another, to love all our brothers and sisters. If we took that commandment seriously, the kingdom would be here. When Paul Johnson, the former secretary of the Treasury went to Africa with Bono, he was amazed at the lack of clean water there. He estimated that it would take about $25 billion to provide clean water. I don’t have his book in front of me, so I may be wrong about the numbers and the details, I think that was for all of Africa. A small amount compared to the budget of the US. And he couldn’t get folks interested in providing that amount of aid. Imagine if we took that commandment seriously, what would Memphis schools look like? First, there would be more money. But, more importantly, the schools would be integrated. Teaching would improve. The lament of U2’s song that the kingdom has not come is not a lament of God’s failure, it is a lament of our failure: our failure to follow Jesus’ commands.
The grace that God gives us in salvation is also the grace we need to lead transformed lives. God’s grace is sufficient. The kingdom is here: we are the ones who must see it and live it. Amen.

Where The Streets Have No Name

Text John 3:1-17

Nicodemus fascinates me. I’m not sure what to make of him. Does he ever really understand? Does he ever really get it? Now, John’s gospel is full of symbolism and metaphor. It is a gospel for a poet, not a scientist. WH Auden said that to be a Christian, one must be a poet. That is, to embrace Christianity is to embrace mystery, to adopt ambiguity. To even begin to understand John’s gospel if that is possible, one must understand the symbols that John uses. John begins his gospel with the words that “in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” John continues by telling us that Jesus is the light of the world. At then end of the passage we have just read, John explains that while the light has come into the world “people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. 20For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. 21But 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.” (John 3:19b-21)
So, the fact that Nicodemus comes to Jesus in the darkness is important. He comes hidden. Next Sunday, we will read about a very different encounter with Jesus. Jesus talks to a woman at noon, when the sun is at its height. Nicodemus begins by saying “we know”. “We know.” He is an important person, a leader among the Pharisees. Here he identifies himself as part of that group. He doesn’t say “I know”, but “we know”. And then, Jesus upsets everything Nicodemus knows, everything Nicodemus is. Jesus tells Nicodemus that Nicodemus must be born from above, born of the Spirit.
When I was putting together this series, I was trying to pair U2 songs with the lectionary passages. Last Sunday was easy: sin and Sunday, Bloody Sunday. This Sunday was more difficult. I kept being drawn to their song, “Where the Streets Have No Name,” but I couldn’t figure out what the song had to do with Nicodemus. And so, I tried other songs, other lectionary texts. I kept coming back to Nicodemus and “Where the Streets Have No Name.” And so, I decided there must be something that my unconscious or perhaps the Spirit is seeing that I am not.
“Where the Streets Have No Name” is an interesting song. It is about a place, heaven, where streets are nameless. I saw a quote from Bono explaining that the song had been birthed when he heard someone describe the streets in Belfast. You could tell what religion someone was and how much money they made by the street they lived on. If you think about it, it is true of almost anywhere I’m familiar with. When I lived in Cleveland, if someone told me he or she lived on Tremont, I knew immediately that probably their family was Russian, that they went to Saint Theodosius Church and that their father had worked in the steel mills. If they said they lived on East 94th, I knew that they were probably African American, went to Antioch Baptist Church and their father had worked in the steel mills. If they said they lived on Union, then their family was Polish, they went to St. Stanislaus and their father worked in the steel mills. If they lived on Murray Hill, their family was Italian, they went to Annunciation Church and their father worked in the steel mills. The suburbs were the same way: certain ethnic and religious groups gravitated to certain suburbs. The Orthodox Jews lived in one neighborhood of Cleveland Heights. Reformed and Conservative Jews lived in different neighborhoods there or in Shaker Heights. I’m sure it’s true in Memphis. I just haven’t lived here long enough to know exactly who lives where. Though, I was looking for some stuff for my trip to Africa last December. I couldn’t find a place to park at the Outdoors store on Poplar and so I drove out to Cordova. As I was paying for my purchases, the clerk asked for my zip code. I told him and he said, “oh, Midtown.” I replied yes. He reached for a bag to put my purchase in and I said, “I don’t need a bag.” He said, “Well, that’s typical for Midtown. People out here are different.”
That’s how “Where the Streets Have No Name” relates to Nicodemus. Part of being born from above, being born from the Spirit is a giving up of our differences, our status. Paul tells us that “in Christ, there is not Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male and female.” I’ve told you this before, about baptism in the early church: new converts completely undressed and were baptized naked. They emerged from the baptisry and put on new, white garments, that symbolized their new life in Christ. We are new people, we are brothers and sisters, no one of us is better than another.
I want to make one thing clear. The text is clear that being born anew, of the Spirit, is not something that we do. As we had nothing to do with our physical birth, so we have nothing to do with our spiritual births. The verbs are passive: being born is something that is done to us. The Spirit blows where it will.
We can reject this new birth. We can turn away from it. It isn’t clear to me whether Nicodemus ever got it. Most commentators seem to think that he did. Nicodemus appears twice more in John’s gospel. Once he defends Jesus against the Pharisees and then he, with Joseph of Arimethea, take Jesus body and buries it in the tomb. Commentators see in these actions, that Nicodemus has become a follower of Jesus. But, the text is not clear. What could be more symbolic than burying Jesus—laying him back in a dark place? After all, a tomb is about the darkest place one could imagine. And, remember it is that darkness that Jesus overcomes. It is the grave that Jesus has victory over. So, I’m not sure. Was Nicodemus able to accept the Spirit’s action of new birth, of giving up?
What about us? What would it mean if we lived on Streets with No Name? What if there were no Black or White, Conservative or Liberal, Rich or Poor, Male or Female among Christians in Memphis? Could we let go of the things that give us status, that make us different from “those people” whoever they are?