Two weeks into the New Year, I thought I might share a part of my plan/practice for spiritual growth. This is by no means a resolution for 2013 because I think I've been using this particular website on and off since 2011.
I thought that today would be the perfect chance to share this resource because the devotional set for today is from Mark's account of healing the leper that we will be sharing together from Luke's version on Sunday morning.
Anyway, Pray-As-You-Go is a great resource to use on your computer or to regularly download to a smart phone or tablet device. It is a 10-15 minute long guided meditation, which is a particular blessing to me. I just show up and someone else helps me along in prayer and Scripture reading. You can listen during your commute, first thing in the morning, last thing at night. Whenever it's convenient.
Take a listen and enjoy!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Bible Study
This morning at Bible Study* We took this week's text: Luke 5:12-16 and compared it to the same accounts in Mark 1:40-45 and Matthew 8:1-4. From these ingredients, we attempted to make a reduction of the essential ingredients of the story. In other words, what is the same in each telling? From this we can create a think, flavorful story. It might also help to wonder about what is different in each telling -- which vapors burn off in order to get down to the essential flavors?
We spent considerable time on a phrase in Mark that neither Luke or Matthew picks up: "Jesus was indignant" or, in another translation of the text, "Jesus had compassion." What could this mean? What is the intersection of indignation and compassion? Why would Jesus feel this way in this story?
So, although you may not have been able to attend Bible Study, please join us in wondering as we all prepare our hearts for worship and for God's Word on Sunday morning.
*We host Bible Study every Wednesday morning at 11am. Together we work with the text for the coming Sunday's sermon. It's called "crowd sourcing." Anyone is welcome to join us.
We spent considerable time on a phrase in Mark that neither Luke or Matthew picks up: "Jesus was indignant" or, in another translation of the text, "Jesus had compassion." What could this mean? What is the intersection of indignation and compassion? Why would Jesus feel this way in this story?
So, although you may not have been able to attend Bible Study, please join us in wondering as we all prepare our hearts for worship and for God's Word on Sunday morning.
*We host Bible Study every Wednesday morning at 11am. Together we work with the text for the coming Sunday's sermon. It's called "crowd sourcing." Anyone is welcome to join us.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Monday Morning Preacher-ing
So, yesterday was fun! I'm excited about working with our newly installed elders & deacons for a critical season of prayerful imagination and stepping out in faith on Council. To share the call to discipleship with the Elders & Deacons and then to watch them sharing it with every member of our congregation -- that blessed me deeply. Thank you all who participated in the service!
You may have noticed that yesterday's sermon was a bit different from any I've preached recently. I'm back to preaching off a manuscript. And funnily enough, when I got home from church yesterday, a friend (NOT in our congregation) had tweeted:
In this Sunday's case, though, another dictum of seminary preaching class loomed large: "Show, don't tell." So the sermon became a narrative re-telling of the Scripture text. Attempting to be faithful to exegetical insights, I didn't necessarily stop and say, "This is an exegetical insight now, y'all. Listen up." Some folks prefer that approach. It's more didactic and you then know what you are listening for. It may require more of the receiver to listen to narrative preaching. It's not filling in the blanks in an alliterative outline (as some of us have been conditioned to expect: God is: Great, Good and Gracious) In the case of narrative preaching, well, it really is what it sounds like -- listening as a story unfolds. It taps into imagination more than information receptors. It is going to appeal to right brain more than left brain. It appeals to artistic rather than scientific/mathematical impulses.
This isn't a matter of right/wrong approaches but, rather, about evaluating what works in any given context. Therefore, in coming months, I hope to have some robust discussions with Elders about the preaching ministry at DC CRC. Since arriving, I have preached off manuscripts. I've preached with substantial memorization. I have preached from notes. I'm still exploring what works best for me.
But, ultimately, preaching is a communication event, which means that "what works best for me" necessarily equals "what is well and deeply received." The comment section isn't a great place for that conversation but if you have thoughts on this, please shoot me an e-mail, facebook message, phone call, etc.
Okay, enough self-reflection. I'm going running now.
You may have noticed that yesterday's sermon was a bit different from any I've preached recently. I'm back to preaching off a manuscript. And funnily enough, when I got home from church yesterday, a friend (NOT in our congregation) had tweeted:
Preachers who are frustrated writers make for poor orators. Don't read a manuscript at us; speak a word to us.Which, of course, got me a little defensive. And a little thoughtful. I tweeted back:
The issue isn't manuscript/non-manuscript. It's learning to use language appropriate for the ear not the peer (reviewer.)Regardless of delivery form, most of my sermons follow a simple Trouble/Grace; Text/World outline that I can share with y'all another time. Once you know it, I'm certain you will hear it in *nearly* every sermon.
In this Sunday's case, though, another dictum of seminary preaching class loomed large: "Show, don't tell." So the sermon became a narrative re-telling of the Scripture text. Attempting to be faithful to exegetical insights, I didn't necessarily stop and say, "This is an exegetical insight now, y'all. Listen up." Some folks prefer that approach. It's more didactic and you then know what you are listening for. It may require more of the receiver to listen to narrative preaching. It's not filling in the blanks in an alliterative outline (as some of us have been conditioned to expect: God is: Great, Good and Gracious) In the case of narrative preaching, well, it really is what it sounds like -- listening as a story unfolds. It taps into imagination more than information receptors. It is going to appeal to right brain more than left brain. It appeals to artistic rather than scientific/mathematical impulses.
This isn't a matter of right/wrong approaches but, rather, about evaluating what works in any given context. Therefore, in coming months, I hope to have some robust discussions with Elders about the preaching ministry at DC CRC. Since arriving, I have preached off manuscripts. I've preached with substantial memorization. I have preached from notes. I'm still exploring what works best for me.
But, ultimately, preaching is a communication event, which means that "what works best for me" necessarily equals "what is well and deeply received." The comment section isn't a great place for that conversation but if you have thoughts on this, please shoot me an e-mail, facebook message, phone call, etc.
Okay, enough self-reflection. I'm going running now.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
What You WON'T Hear on Sunday Morning
Sermon's done come together this afternoon (and a special shout-out goes to the Holy Spirit for showing up.) Sermon preparation is a strange beast, although I suppose any writer would say the same about his/her craft. Just because you've done it before doesn't mean you know what to expect when you sit down to do it again. It's different nearly every time.
But I got to the end of my writing process and realized that there is a really fun exegetical insight in the text (Luke 5:1-11) that I won't be using in tomorrow's sermon. When you are committed to "preaching about God and preaching about 20 minutes," you can't say it all. And attempting to say it all may mean that you end up coherently saying nothing at all.
Throwing this idea into the sermon would gum up the works.
The thought of throwing it on the cutting room floor makes me sad. And so I am thankful for this blog. Because I can throw it HERE.
If you read this before Sunday morning, it can color some of your interaction with the text and the sermon. If you read it later, you can mull it over in the coming week.
Jesus calls the disciples. Fisherman. And you all, likely, know the punchline of the story: "Come and follow me. I will make you fishers ofmen (ahem) all people." That is the way Matthew and Mark tell the story. They are a bunch of joke-y punsters, those two. But Luke does something different in the original text. Something that we don't see on this side of the NIV's translation work, which phrases the end of verse 10 this way:
"Do not be afraid; from now on you will fish for people."
Having read Matthew and Mark previously, you're probably like "haha, good one Luke." Except that Luke doesn't use the standard Greek verb "to fish" here. He has used different iterations of that word throughout the text. But in this verse he says,
"ἀπὸ τοῦ νῦν ἀνθρώπους ἔσῃ ζωγρῶν."
In other words, "from now on I will make you catchers/live-trappers ofmen (ahem) all people." The word here (English transliteration: zogrein) has it's root in the Greek word: zoe; meaning life. Okay, well then, so what? (Lon SolomonTM)
I've only been fishing a couple of times. Not really my thing -- hooks and blood. Then you keep the poor things in a tiny bucket of water until such time as your grandfather breaks their necks or hits them over the head with a hammer. Poor scaly things flopping around on a pier with desperation in their soon-to-be lifeless eyes. That's the visual image I have of fishing.
So, when Jesus tells me to go do THAT to people, I feel justified in my squeamishness. But now, thanks to Luke, I have a new visual image. One of live-trapping. An image reminiscent of time spent in Yellowstone National Park, where animals like wolves and bears are often caught, in order to be tagged, released and watched over. This image allows me to ruminate on the work of liberation, redemption, setting free that is attendant to the work of ministry. No more clonking suckers over the head with the Bible. Instead, we set them free into life -- new life make no mistake -- but life not death all the same!
It's a shame I won't be making that homiletical turn on Sunday. But now you can reflect with me on a new image and, since I tend to preach lectionary, I'll get another crack at this text in three years. Talk about working ahead! #overachiever
But I got to the end of my writing process and realized that there is a really fun exegetical insight in the text (Luke 5:1-11) that I won't be using in tomorrow's sermon. When you are committed to "preaching about God and preaching about 20 minutes," you can't say it all. And attempting to say it all may mean that you end up coherently saying nothing at all.
Throwing this idea into the sermon would gum up the works.
The thought of throwing it on the cutting room floor makes me sad. And so I am thankful for this blog. Because I can throw it HERE.
If you read this before Sunday morning, it can color some of your interaction with the text and the sermon. If you read it later, you can mull it over in the coming week.
Jesus calls the disciples. Fisherman. And you all, likely, know the punchline of the story: "Come and follow me. I will make you fishers of
"Do not be afraid; from now on you will fish for people."
Having read Matthew and Mark previously, you're probably like "haha, good one Luke." Except that Luke doesn't use the standard Greek verb "to fish" here. He has used different iterations of that word throughout the text. But in this verse he says,
"ἀπὸ τοῦ νῦν ἀνθρώπους ἔσῃ ζωγρῶν."
In other words, "from now on I will make you catchers/live-trappers of
I've only been fishing a couple of times. Not really my thing -- hooks and blood. Then you keep the poor things in a tiny bucket of water until such time as your grandfather breaks their necks or hits them over the head with a hammer. Poor scaly things flopping around on a pier with desperation in their soon-to-be lifeless eyes. That's the visual image I have of fishing.
So, when Jesus tells me to go do THAT to people, I feel justified in my squeamishness. But now, thanks to Luke, I have a new visual image. One of live-trapping. An image reminiscent of time spent in Yellowstone National Park, where animals like wolves and bears are often caught, in order to be tagged, released and watched over. This image allows me to ruminate on the work of liberation, redemption, setting free that is attendant to the work of ministry. No more clonking suckers over the head with the Bible. Instead, we set them free into life -- new life make no mistake -- but life not death all the same!
It's a shame I won't be making that homiletical turn on Sunday. But now you can reflect with me on a new image and, since I tend to preach lectionary, I'll get another crack at this text in three years. Talk about working ahead! #overachiever
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Some Initial Thoughts on Luke
Going through the textual work, Luke is a very precise story-teller. None of Paul's long run-on sentences. None of John's nuanced grammatical choices. Just a straight-forward telling of the story, for the most part.
The Lectionary often pairs the reading of Luke 5:1-11 with these texts:
- Isaiah 6:1-8
- I Cor. 15:1-11 (Although I might alternately argue for II Cor. 12:1-10)
Anyone want to make an educated guess as to how these texts might work together?
And then there is the complicated business of a nearly identical story told in John 21:1-14. Some people argue that there were two distinct events tied together thematically. Indeed, this would explain why Peter so exuberantly identifies the mysterious man on the beach in John 21 as The Christ. He had already experienced something nearly identical. But, wonder with me, what would it mean if this was one event that John used at the conclusion of Jesus' ministry with the disciples and Luke used it to begin Jesus' ministry with the disciples? What does holding these two stories in tension with one another do to our understanding of Peter's proclamation of guilt in Luke 5, for example? What is it about this story that so perfectly encapsulates the spirit of Jesus' call to discipleship?
The Lectionary often pairs the reading of Luke 5:1-11 with these texts:
- Isaiah 6:1-8
- I Cor. 15:1-11 (Although I might alternately argue for II Cor. 12:1-10)
Anyone want to make an educated guess as to how these texts might work together?
And then there is the complicated business of a nearly identical story told in John 21:1-14. Some people argue that there were two distinct events tied together thematically. Indeed, this would explain why Peter so exuberantly identifies the mysterious man on the beach in John 21 as The Christ. He had already experienced something nearly identical. But, wonder with me, what would it mean if this was one event that John used at the conclusion of Jesus' ministry with the disciples and Luke used it to begin Jesus' ministry with the disciples? What does holding these two stories in tension with one another do to our understanding of Peter's proclamation of guilt in Luke 5, for example? What is it about this story that so perfectly encapsulates the spirit of Jesus' call to discipleship?
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Gearing Up for the Gospels
For the next couple months, we will be using the Gospel of Luke, particularly the early stories of Jesus' ministry to shape our learning together on Sunday mornings.
A Gospels Primer
Most scholars believe that Mark was the earliest Gospel written. It gets straight to the point. It is the shortest, as one might expect if someone was trying to get the main points out quick.
Scholars know that John was the latest Gospel written. This isn't too difficult to see reflected in the writing style, as it tends to add interpretive detail. Clearly John has had the most time to reflect & shapes his narrative accordingly.
Matthew and Luke are written in between Mark & John.
Matthew is concerned for continuity with Israel and the Kingdom of God.
Luke is concerned with the inclusivity of Jesus new teaching!
So, To Begin ...
This Sunday's text is: Luke 5:1-11. I encourage you to read it in your Bibles & do two things:
1) Write out a timeline of events in Jesus' ministry leading up to the calling of the disciples.
2) Read the parallel passages in the other Gospels: Mt. 4:12-25, Mk 1:16-20, & John 1:35-51 What differences do you observe? How might those differences reflect the overall, distinctive purposes of the Gospel writers?
A Gospels Primer
Most scholars believe that Mark was the earliest Gospel written. It gets straight to the point. It is the shortest, as one might expect if someone was trying to get the main points out quick.
Scholars know that John was the latest Gospel written. This isn't too difficult to see reflected in the writing style, as it tends to add interpretive detail. Clearly John has had the most time to reflect & shapes his narrative accordingly.
Matthew and Luke are written in between Mark & John.
Matthew is concerned for continuity with Israel and the Kingdom of God.
Luke is concerned with the inclusivity of Jesus new teaching!
So, To Begin ...
This Sunday's text is: Luke 5:1-11. I encourage you to read it in your Bibles & do two things:
1) Write out a timeline of events in Jesus' ministry leading up to the calling of the disciples.
2) Read the parallel passages in the other Gospels: Mt. 4:12-25, Mk 1:16-20, & John 1:35-51 What differences do you observe? How might those differences reflect the overall, distinctive purposes of the Gospel writers?
Monday, January 7, 2013
Monday Morning Preacher-ing
As it goes with the whole Redskins nation, so it goes with me. The day after we wonder: did we make the right calls? Did we complete the plays? Any penalty flags thrown to which we must pay attention?
I had a lot of fun in preparation for yesterday's sermon. The texts unraveled themselves into some threads I'd never properly observed before.
At first I thought I would be preaching Isaiah 60 -- a classic poetic/prophetic text. An emphasis here would have landed us solidly in verses 4-6 where Isaiah create a linguistic version of concentric circles:
We respond
- First, you look.
- Then you and all around you look.
- Then you and all around you and your children look.
With the result of radiance, joy, etc. being illuminated in the light which has come not simply for you but for MANY.
Aside from the imagery of light and stars, it is the inclusionary nature of this text that lends itself so properly to Epiphany Sunday and a pairing with Matthew 2.
But we'd been in Isaiah so much through Advent, I was ready for the Gospel text.
So Matthew 2:1-12 became the focus of my study. And I discovered at least five valuable and intriguing sermon ideas. But I am, as yet, unwilling to try your patience by trying to preach a 5-in-1.
First, the one I preached -- an attempt to "get real" about the primary players in the text: Herod, Magi & Christ. This direction won out for two reasons:
1) I think a lot of schmaltz has attached itself to the pictures we've made in our heads for various Biblical stories. We've made Herod so terrible that we can't find ourselves in his sin. And we send one another Christmas cards with the phrase: "Wise men still seek him." Gender exclusivity aside, I don't think this phrase does justice to the thrust of the text. I'd much rather print a bumper sticker that says, "God still tracks down outsiders," which leads me to reason ...
2) Aside from sentimentality (which I am willing to concede may be a personal irritant) I am deeply concerned when we read the Bible in such a fashion that anyone except for God gets to be the hero. It's humanism, really. And we do it a lot. We get to be good enough and smart enough and, doggoneit, Jesus loves us! When the people of the Bible become our heroes, we are either not good enough or similarly capable of earning/deserving God's salvation/blessing in our lives. That's a serious temptation, I think. It is also exegetical malpractice and I will not stand for it! (So much more I want to say on this. Say the word and I will try to work up another blog post along these lines.)
And it is only when we contend rightly with Herod and the Magi that we again see Christ as the Hero. Christ as the one who came to seek and to save all who are lost. Christ as the instigator of faith & salvation.
Second, the text made me wrestle with issues of inclusion. In a sense, I could feel Israel's frustration at God seemingly changing the rules. Even if you contend the Magi were lovely, moral god-fearers of their day, if THEY are included in the covenant than maybe Herod is too. And if Herod could be included in the grace of God, well, that's scandalous. (This line of reasoning worked better before I realized that Herod was "a Jew" in some sense.) But there is the thread of common grace I had never seen before, that is ...
Third, I had never caught before that the star led the Magi to Jerusalem. And it was in Jerusalem that Herod's court advisers read out the prophecy from Micah pointing the Wise Men to Bethlehem. So they traveled to Bethlehem and the star met them over Mary & Joseph's place. Bad, mean, terrible Herod gave the Magi the last piece of the puzzle. They would not have found the Christ-child (according to this narrative) without Herod's help. And, in this, you can find a worthwhile rabbit-trail into the relationship of General Revelation (the stars, science, etc.) and Special Revelation (the Word of God revealed.)
Fourth, not surprisingly, Stanley Hauerwas' commentary on Matthew demonstrated that this tiny baby born in out-of-the-way Bethlehem sent the political world into chaos. It is simply not enough to coo and cluck over sweet Baby Jesus asleep on the hay if we are simultaneously unwilling to reckon with the political nature of his birth -- and the ensuing massacre of the innocents. Bruner also points out a clever trick in the text. The first two times he is mentioned Herod retains the title "King." But after the Magi leave to find & worship Christ, Herod is only ever just that. Herod. The appearance of the child-King demotes Herod. Well played, Matthew. Well played.
Fifth, several commentators make the link between this chapter at the beginning on Matthew's Gospel and the last few chapters of the same. The Gentile Magi are the first to refer to Jesus as "The King of the Jews" and they worship him. The next Gentiles to call him that also place a crown of thorns on his head and lashes across his back. The Magi are sent back to their home country after they have visited the Christ-child. And Matthew 28 ends with the Great Commission "Go into all the world and preach the Gospel."
But Ephesians 3 was also a lectionary text and I wanted to weave it through.In part, I chose the idea that I did because it got us to Ephesians 3 with the least amount of textual wrangling. As we looked to Christ in the end, Ephesians 3 reminded us that God's grace is bigger. God's mercy runs deep. God's grace is wide. I still think it's a pretty big leap from this statement into some kind of universalism. I'm just saying that we oughtn't be in the business of limiting and restricting when the weight of Scripture demonstrates a God who is pushing and reaching.
I'm never sure I've made the right calls on any given Sunday. And I'm happy to hear from you if you might like to spin out an alternate sermon along one of these other, justifiable, paths. I'd be more than happy to hear that. Because it would mean that you are joining me in contending with the text. Priesthood of all believers, baby!
All I can say is that, unlike the Redskins, I'm grateful that, by the grace of God and God's people, there is no such thing as single-elimination preaching. I always get to suit up and hit the field next week.
I had a lot of fun in preparation for yesterday's sermon. The texts unraveled themselves into some threads I'd never properly observed before.
At first I thought I would be preaching Isaiah 60 -- a classic poetic/prophetic text. An emphasis here would have landed us solidly in verses 4-6 where Isaiah create a linguistic version of concentric circles:
We respond
- First, you look.
- Then you and all around you look.
- Then you and all around you and your children look.
With the result of radiance, joy, etc. being illuminated in the light which has come not simply for you but for MANY.
Aside from the imagery of light and stars, it is the inclusionary nature of this text that lends itself so properly to Epiphany Sunday and a pairing with Matthew 2.
But we'd been in Isaiah so much through Advent, I was ready for the Gospel text.
So Matthew 2:1-12 became the focus of my study. And I discovered at least five valuable and intriguing sermon ideas. But I am, as yet, unwilling to try your patience by trying to preach a 5-in-1.
First, the one I preached -- an attempt to "get real" about the primary players in the text: Herod, Magi & Christ. This direction won out for two reasons:
1) I think a lot of schmaltz has attached itself to the pictures we've made in our heads for various Biblical stories. We've made Herod so terrible that we can't find ourselves in his sin. And we send one another Christmas cards with the phrase: "Wise men still seek him." Gender exclusivity aside, I don't think this phrase does justice to the thrust of the text. I'd much rather print a bumper sticker that says, "God still tracks down outsiders," which leads me to reason ...
2) Aside from sentimentality (which I am willing to concede may be a personal irritant) I am deeply concerned when we read the Bible in such a fashion that anyone except for God gets to be the hero. It's humanism, really. And we do it a lot. We get to be good enough and smart enough and, doggoneit, Jesus loves us! When the people of the Bible become our heroes, we are either not good enough or similarly capable of earning/deserving God's salvation/blessing in our lives. That's a serious temptation, I think. It is also exegetical malpractice and I will not stand for it! (So much more I want to say on this. Say the word and I will try to work up another blog post along these lines.)
And it is only when we contend rightly with Herod and the Magi that we again see Christ as the Hero. Christ as the one who came to seek and to save all who are lost. Christ as the instigator of faith & salvation.
Second, the text made me wrestle with issues of inclusion. In a sense, I could feel Israel's frustration at God seemingly changing the rules. Even if you contend the Magi were lovely, moral god-fearers of their day, if THEY are included in the covenant than maybe Herod is too. And if Herod could be included in the grace of God, well, that's scandalous. (This line of reasoning worked better before I realized that Herod was "a Jew" in some sense.) But there is the thread of common grace I had never seen before, that is ...
Third, I had never caught before that the star led the Magi to Jerusalem. And it was in Jerusalem that Herod's court advisers read out the prophecy from Micah pointing the Wise Men to Bethlehem. So they traveled to Bethlehem and the star met them over Mary & Joseph's place. Bad, mean, terrible Herod gave the Magi the last piece of the puzzle. They would not have found the Christ-child (according to this narrative) without Herod's help. And, in this, you can find a worthwhile rabbit-trail into the relationship of General Revelation (the stars, science, etc.) and Special Revelation (the Word of God revealed.)
Fourth, not surprisingly, Stanley Hauerwas' commentary on Matthew demonstrated that this tiny baby born in out-of-the-way Bethlehem sent the political world into chaos. It is simply not enough to coo and cluck over sweet Baby Jesus asleep on the hay if we are simultaneously unwilling to reckon with the political nature of his birth -- and the ensuing massacre of the innocents. Bruner also points out a clever trick in the text. The first two times he is mentioned Herod retains the title "King." But after the Magi leave to find & worship Christ, Herod is only ever just that. Herod. The appearance of the child-King demotes Herod. Well played, Matthew. Well played.
Fifth, several commentators make the link between this chapter at the beginning on Matthew's Gospel and the last few chapters of the same. The Gentile Magi are the first to refer to Jesus as "The King of the Jews" and they worship him. The next Gentiles to call him that also place a crown of thorns on his head and lashes across his back. The Magi are sent back to their home country after they have visited the Christ-child. And Matthew 28 ends with the Great Commission "Go into all the world and preach the Gospel."
But Ephesians 3 was also a lectionary text and I wanted to weave it through.In part, I chose the idea that I did because it got us to Ephesians 3 with the least amount of textual wrangling. As we looked to Christ in the end, Ephesians 3 reminded us that God's grace is bigger. God's mercy runs deep. God's grace is wide. I still think it's a pretty big leap from this statement into some kind of universalism. I'm just saying that we oughtn't be in the business of limiting and restricting when the weight of Scripture demonstrates a God who is pushing and reaching.
I'm never sure I've made the right calls on any given Sunday. And I'm happy to hear from you if you might like to spin out an alternate sermon along one of these other, justifiable, paths. I'd be more than happy to hear that. Because it would mean that you are joining me in contending with the text. Priesthood of all believers, baby!
All I can say is that, unlike the Redskins, I'm grateful that, by the grace of God and God's people, there is no such thing as single-elimination preaching. I always get to suit up and hit the field next week.
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