Sermon for October 28, 2007
Proper 25CJeremiah 14:1-10, 19-22
2nd Timothy 4:6-8,16-18
Luke 18:9-14
Whenever I am asked to offer a “humble opinion”. In fact whenever I offer one even that has not been asked for, I will usually build up to it by offering some kind and flattering preliminary remarks. “But” all of us know that the most important words in an opinion are those that come after the three letter word “But”. Everything that comes before might be nice, it might make us feel good, but…... What really counts, what really matters is that which comes after “but”
It was a great meal mom, but….. The meat was a bit overdone…..
Great idea dad, but….. It is really a bit out of date……
I really liked the movie but…… I fell asleep for the last 20 minutes…..
We really like the house, but…..we were looking for something a little more in our price range…..
I really had a wonderful time, and I think you are a great person, but……I wish we could just be friends……
It was a great sermon Mike, but….(you fill in the blank.)
What is true about the word “but” when we are offering our “humble opinions” is also true when we are offering our prayers. Most prayers at some point get around to addressing God. Whether we are praying about the weather, an illness, a request, a concern, or something we are thankful for, soon or later, we get around to voicing these prayers to God. God is the given in prayers. In our prayers, often the most important words we say come after we say “God“.
In our Gospel reading this weekend, the Pharisee and the tax collector are praying, they are addressing their prayers to God. But, do you notice the words which come immediately after the Word, God. For the Pharisee, the next word is I. He can hardly wait to get the most important subject of the prayer. “God, I“. Do you notice the words that follow, “I”? “I thank you that I am not like other people. “ The arrogance and the pride are really quite chilling aren’t they.
The tax collector meanwhile, also begins his prayer addressing God. But, immediately after invoking God’s name, the tax collector begs for mercy. His humility is almost as chilling as the Pharisees arrogance.
It is important to realize that the Pharisee had reason to be proud. He was a man who did his duty. He prayed, he fasted, he tithed. Part of me would love him to be in this parish. I would recruit him in a minute to serve on the vestry, to give our stewardship talk. Heck, I would probably send him off to seminary. And, the publican was a scoundrel. Tax collectors in those days were traitors. They collected taxes for the occupying empire of Rome. They had earned the hatred that came their way. They were thieves. They skimmed money off the top of the taxes for themselves. They were extortionists. If they knew your dark secrets, they would use that knowledge to blackmail you into giving them more money. The more dirt they had on you, whatever it took, the more money they got, the more money it meant for them. The publican was every bit as despicable as Jesus makes him out to be. He deserved to be on his knees, face to the ground begging for mercy.
But, what is most important is not what he has done, but his prayer. “Be merciful to me a sinner.” The Pharisee trusts in his self righteousness. The tax collector trusts in God’s mercy.
But, dear fellow sinners, the Gospel sets a trap for us. The trap of the Gospel comes if we begin to choose sides.
There is a story told about a bible study which was held at a church. The people had a great discussion of the story. And, at the end, there was time for prayer. A very respectable and well loved member of the congregation began the prayer. “God, we thank you that we are not like the Pharisee.”
To avoid the trap in the Gospel, we must face the truth that we are like other people. I know that there are times in my life when I can be just as proud, just as arrogant as the Pharisee. I know, that there are times in my life when I can act just as despicably as the tax collector. I know that I am quite capable of being just as sinful as the worst. In truth, the most honest prayer I can pray arises out of my need for God’s mercy.
Our readings from Jeremiah and Timothy certainly take up the same theme today.
Jeremiah speaks concerning the drought that ravaged his nation at the time. The cisterns are empty, the ground is cracked. They farmers are dismayed. The animals in the forest abandon their young. What makes the drought worse is the people of Israel knows that they have brought this on themselves. Their sinfulness have brought them to this time of terror.
We know what it is like to be Jeremiah, and the people he is speaking to. As we gaze upon the fires, upon the droughts that plague our world today. As we gaze upon so much disaster in our world today, we know that human kind bears responsibility for the shape of our world. We know that we share some or the responsibility for the fires in our life. We know, that as citizens of a small and shrinking world, we are like every one else. We cannot escape the terrors of our day. Whether drought, or fire, or violence, or MRSA, the troubles that plague others in the world, plague us as well.
Our hope rests not in our goodness. Our confidence rests not in arrogance or pride. Our hope rests not in the belief that we are different from every one else. Our hope and confidence rests in the faith that God is in the midst of our world. God is in the midst of us, and will not forsake us. Our hope and our confidence rests, that like Paul, the Lord, in his mercy will rescue us from the punishment we deserve.
Does this mean that disease or destruction or death will not come near to us? Unfortunately, no. Disease destruction, and death fall on all. But, we believe that it does mean that in the end, these terrors will not separate us from the Love of God. In the end, by God’s mercy, we will triumph over all disease, destruction and death.
So, fellow sinners. We acknowledge our sinfulness and w give thanks.
We acknowledge that are as arrogant and proud as the Pharisee. But, God, we give thanks that in your mercy, you love us still.
We acknowledge that we are like the thieves, the rogues, the adulterers and even like the tax collector. But, God, we give thanks that in your mercy, you love us still.
We acknowledge that we are like everyone else and that we deserve your just punishment for our sins. . But, God, we give thanks that in your mercy, you love us still.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Yancey chapter 11 and 12
Here are some questions to ponder after reading chapter 11 and 12 of Yancey's book "Prayer".
Yancey 11 Seek Ask Knock
What particularly caught your eye or your ear?
Is there anything that surprised you, angered you, confused you, excited you?
What was the main point to the chapter?
Page 146 --What does it mean to pray like a salesman with his foot wedged in the doopopening, like a wrestler who has his opponent in a head lock and won’t let go?
When I really want something, I strive and persist. I will do whatever it takes. Why don’t I show that same persistence in prayer?
Do you use the changelessness of God as an excuse not to pray? God’s decisions are set, so, why pray?
When I pray, is God knocking, seeking, asking of me? Maybe that is why I don’t pray. I don’t want God to get what God wants out of me.
We are God’s workmanship. Prayer offers an opportunity to God to make us into God’s work of art.
Yancey 12 Yearning for Fluency
What particularly caught your eye or your ear?
Is there anything that surprised you, angered you, confused you, excited you?
What was the main point to the chapter?
Do you have a routine for prayer?
What does Yancey mean when he says that prayer is like sex? Have you ever thought of that before? Will you again? Its about relationships. The cacophony of life drowns out relationships---there is no time or energy for relationship. This effects all aspects of relationships--prayer, sex and every thing else as well.
How is prayer like learning a language?
Like exercise? Like learning a musical instrument?
I thought that the quote from Yankelovich, on page 164. Was very profound regarding deferred vs. instant gratification. This “change” effects all areas of our life, perhaps most especially prayer.
Yancey 11 Seek Ask Knock
What particularly caught your eye or your ear?
Is there anything that surprised you, angered you, confused you, excited you?
What was the main point to the chapter?
Page 146 --What does it mean to pray like a salesman with his foot wedged in the doopopening, like a wrestler who has his opponent in a head lock and won’t let go?
When I really want something, I strive and persist. I will do whatever it takes. Why don’t I show that same persistence in prayer?
Do you use the changelessness of God as an excuse not to pray? God’s decisions are set, so, why pray?
When I pray, is God knocking, seeking, asking of me? Maybe that is why I don’t pray. I don’t want God to get what God wants out of me.
We are God’s workmanship. Prayer offers an opportunity to God to make us into God’s work of art.
Yancey 12 Yearning for Fluency
What particularly caught your eye or your ear?
Is there anything that surprised you, angered you, confused you, excited you?
What was the main point to the chapter?
Do you have a routine for prayer?
What does Yancey mean when he says that prayer is like sex? Have you ever thought of that before? Will you again? Its about relationships. The cacophony of life drowns out relationships---there is no time or energy for relationship. This effects all aspects of relationships--prayer, sex and every thing else as well.
How is prayer like learning a language?
Like exercise? Like learning a musical instrument?
I thought that the quote from Yankelovich, on page 164. Was very profound regarding deferred vs. instant gratification. This “change” effects all areas of our life, perhaps most especially prayer.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Sermon October 21
Genesis 32:3-8, 22-30
Luke 18:1-8a
Gracious God, help me to preach in a that seeks not my glory but yours, not the growth of this Church but the spread of your kingdom. Help to preach in a way that honors and respects those who will suffer and die today for your Gospel. Help me to preach in a way that is good news to the poor, the weak, the orphaned, the vulnerable, and the widowed.
Do you ever wonder where words come from? The history of words and languages is fascinating. The study of words reveals that some words that we use today are merely years old, while some words we use date back thousands of years. The are some words that exist in our language and our culture that do not exisit in other languages. There are concepts that we attach words too that do not exist in other languages and cultures.
When we understand some of that history, it deepens our understanding of the stories, and the books that contain these words.
This is true of all literature, and it is most certainly true of scripture.
In our reading from Genesis this weekend we are told that the name Israel means “one who has wrestled with God”. Israel the man, and Israel the people are identified as those who have wrestled with God. The faith of the people of Israel, and indeed the person of Jacob/Israel we claim to be our ancestors int he faith. Thus, the tradition of wrestling with God continues in our life as well. We who believe continue to wrestle with God in our life and in the world as God struggles with us to help us become the people God has created us to be, as God struggles to make this the world God created it to be.
Another word that caught my eye today was “widow“. I discovered this week “widow” has its roots in the Hebrew concept of being “mute”. Thus, a widow is one who is voiceless. A widow is voiceless because in patriarchal soiceties then and now, a woman’s voice came only through her husband. Once her husband died, the woman “lost“ her social and economic voice.
The image of the voiceless widow certainly deepens our understanding of the parable we heard today from Luke’s Gospel. In the parable, this voiceless one demands justice from the one whose word is law. Jesus tells us nothing of the circumstance behind her demand. Maybe she was demanding that she be treated as equal to a man. Maybe she wanted economic justice. We are not told the circumstance, but are told that she is wearing the judge out, she is shaming him. In fact the translation is that she is “blackening his eye“ she is causing him to lose face. Can’t you picture her there at his side every time he turns around. There in the court room, there when he breaks for lunch, there when he heads home for the evening. The voiceless one will not go away, and she will not keep quiet. Can’t you picture him offering her, a patronizing word, a little bit here and there in hopes that she will be satisfied and go away?Can you hear him making excuses as why he won’t give her what she demands: “Its just the wrong time.” “Can’t you be patient with me?” “Don’t you appreciate how much I have already done?” The judge has perhaps even tried to buy the widows silence with some crumbs of charity. But, she will not be silenced. The voiceless one continues to cry for justice.
Finally, he realizes that the only way for him to save face is to give in. This pestering widow has made him the laughing stock of the court. This powerful judge cannot silence a widow. The only way for him to save his reputation is to decree for her the justice she demands.
It is clear that Jesus does not want us to equate the unjust judge with God. If even the unjust judge will decree justice for the voiceless widow, surely our God of Justice will decree justice for those who cry out in prayer. This theme is certainly central to the parable. I wonder though, if perhaps we might see God in the other person in the parable. Perhaps we can find the presence of God in the widow. In the scripture, God often reveals Godself in the strangest places. In a burning bush, in a gentle wind, in a baby born in a manger. God’s voice speaks through the most surprising of people. Prophets, kings, queens, shepherds as well as those who are among the least, the lost and the lonely. Is it really any surprise that God might be revealed in the voice of a widow. Might the voice of God be found in the widow crying for justice.
Might God speak in our day through those who are voiceless.
Think of all the voiceless ones in our day, who cry for justice. The poor in the world who cry for clean water. The sick in the world who cry for medicine. The victims of war who cry for peace. Desperate people who cry out for a reason to hope. The unemployed who cry out for meaningful work and a just wage. The outcasts who cry for the right to be welcomed. Those who suffer from prejudice who cry to treated with respect. The young who cry for a future. Creation that cries to be cared for.
Perhaps, we can hear in the these voices the voice of God.
If these voiceless ones are the voice of God then perhaps there are times when we find ourselves in the place of the unjust judge? Perhaps we are there as individuals, or perhaps we are there as a society, or a church, or as a nation. Now, to say that we do not fear God and have no respect for people would not be fair--even on the worst of our days. But, on the other hand, I have to admit that there are times when I try not to hear the cries of the widows, the poor, the orphans, the weak, and the most vulnerable. Often I, like the judge try to silence those who cry for justice with a few crumbs of charity. Often I plead with for them to be more patient, I give my litany of reasons why a truly just world is not possible at this time. I plead with them to bear their sufferings a little bit longer, until justice is more convenient. Sometimes I plead with them to be more understanding, a bit less intense, a little less angry, and certainly less political. Sometimes, I have to admit, I wish that those who continually cry for justice would just be quiet. I wish they would leave me alone. I grow tired of their persevering, relentless plea.
Perhaps, if I were to remember that these cries for justice might be the voice of God, I might be more inclined to listen. If I remember that God is speaking through the cries of those who are poor, weak, orphaned, vulnerable and widowed, maybe, like the unjust judge, might relent and I might work for a world in which they receive the justice they deserve.
The widow wrestles with the judge. He finally relented and granted her justice. By calling him to act justly, the widow was inviting him to live a more blessed life. In Genesis, the man wrestled with Jacob. Jacob’s life was never the same. His hip was out of joint. His name was changed, and he was blessed.
May we recognize God in the cries of those seeking justice. May we feel the presence of God in those who demand justice. May we allow them to change our hearts, and in changing our hearts may we thirst for the justice of God. And when we thirst for justice for the voiceless ones on God, may we be blessed.
Luke 18:1-8a
Gracious God, help me to preach in a that seeks not my glory but yours, not the growth of this Church but the spread of your kingdom. Help to preach in a way that honors and respects those who will suffer and die today for your Gospel. Help me to preach in a way that is good news to the poor, the weak, the orphaned, the vulnerable, and the widowed.
Do you ever wonder where words come from? The history of words and languages is fascinating. The study of words reveals that some words that we use today are merely years old, while some words we use date back thousands of years. The are some words that exist in our language and our culture that do not exisit in other languages. There are concepts that we attach words too that do not exist in other languages and cultures.
When we understand some of that history, it deepens our understanding of the stories, and the books that contain these words.
This is true of all literature, and it is most certainly true of scripture.
In our reading from Genesis this weekend we are told that the name Israel means “one who has wrestled with God”. Israel the man, and Israel the people are identified as those who have wrestled with God. The faith of the people of Israel, and indeed the person of Jacob/Israel we claim to be our ancestors int he faith. Thus, the tradition of wrestling with God continues in our life as well. We who believe continue to wrestle with God in our life and in the world as God struggles with us to help us become the people God has created us to be, as God struggles to make this the world God created it to be.
Another word that caught my eye today was “widow“. I discovered this week “widow” has its roots in the Hebrew concept of being “mute”. Thus, a widow is one who is voiceless. A widow is voiceless because in patriarchal soiceties then and now, a woman’s voice came only through her husband. Once her husband died, the woman “lost“ her social and economic voice.
The image of the voiceless widow certainly deepens our understanding of the parable we heard today from Luke’s Gospel. In the parable, this voiceless one demands justice from the one whose word is law. Jesus tells us nothing of the circumstance behind her demand. Maybe she was demanding that she be treated as equal to a man. Maybe she wanted economic justice. We are not told the circumstance, but are told that she is wearing the judge out, she is shaming him. In fact the translation is that she is “blackening his eye“ she is causing him to lose face. Can’t you picture her there at his side every time he turns around. There in the court room, there when he breaks for lunch, there when he heads home for the evening. The voiceless one will not go away, and she will not keep quiet. Can’t you picture him offering her, a patronizing word, a little bit here and there in hopes that she will be satisfied and go away?Can you hear him making excuses as why he won’t give her what she demands: “Its just the wrong time.” “Can’t you be patient with me?” “Don’t you appreciate how much I have already done?” The judge has perhaps even tried to buy the widows silence with some crumbs of charity. But, she will not be silenced. The voiceless one continues to cry for justice.
Finally, he realizes that the only way for him to save face is to give in. This pestering widow has made him the laughing stock of the court. This powerful judge cannot silence a widow. The only way for him to save his reputation is to decree for her the justice she demands.
It is clear that Jesus does not want us to equate the unjust judge with God. If even the unjust judge will decree justice for the voiceless widow, surely our God of Justice will decree justice for those who cry out in prayer. This theme is certainly central to the parable. I wonder though, if perhaps we might see God in the other person in the parable. Perhaps we can find the presence of God in the widow. In the scripture, God often reveals Godself in the strangest places. In a burning bush, in a gentle wind, in a baby born in a manger. God’s voice speaks through the most surprising of people. Prophets, kings, queens, shepherds as well as those who are among the least, the lost and the lonely. Is it really any surprise that God might be revealed in the voice of a widow. Might the voice of God be found in the widow crying for justice.
Might God speak in our day through those who are voiceless.
Think of all the voiceless ones in our day, who cry for justice. The poor in the world who cry for clean water. The sick in the world who cry for medicine. The victims of war who cry for peace. Desperate people who cry out for a reason to hope. The unemployed who cry out for meaningful work and a just wage. The outcasts who cry for the right to be welcomed. Those who suffer from prejudice who cry to treated with respect. The young who cry for a future. Creation that cries to be cared for.
Perhaps, we can hear in the these voices the voice of God.
If these voiceless ones are the voice of God then perhaps there are times when we find ourselves in the place of the unjust judge? Perhaps we are there as individuals, or perhaps we are there as a society, or a church, or as a nation. Now, to say that we do not fear God and have no respect for people would not be fair--even on the worst of our days. But, on the other hand, I have to admit that there are times when I try not to hear the cries of the widows, the poor, the orphans, the weak, and the most vulnerable. Often I, like the judge try to silence those who cry for justice with a few crumbs of charity. Often I plead with for them to be more patient, I give my litany of reasons why a truly just world is not possible at this time. I plead with them to bear their sufferings a little bit longer, until justice is more convenient. Sometimes I plead with them to be more understanding, a bit less intense, a little less angry, and certainly less political. Sometimes, I have to admit, I wish that those who continually cry for justice would just be quiet. I wish they would leave me alone. I grow tired of their persevering, relentless plea.
Perhaps, if I were to remember that these cries for justice might be the voice of God, I might be more inclined to listen. If I remember that God is speaking through the cries of those who are poor, weak, orphaned, vulnerable and widowed, maybe, like the unjust judge, might relent and I might work for a world in which they receive the justice they deserve.
The widow wrestles with the judge. He finally relented and granted her justice. By calling him to act justly, the widow was inviting him to live a more blessed life. In Genesis, the man wrestled with Jacob. Jacob’s life was never the same. His hip was out of joint. His name was changed, and he was blessed.
May we recognize God in the cries of those seeking justice. May we feel the presence of God in those who demand justice. May we allow them to change our hearts, and in changing our hearts may we thirst for the justice of God. And when we thirst for justice for the voiceless ones on God, may we be blessed.
Yancey 9 and 10
Chapter 9 What difference does it make?
What surprised you? Confused you? Troubled you? What new insights did you gain?
Yancey seems to be struggling about whether prayer makes a difference or not. It did in the USSR and South Africa, and Romania, but not with the holocaust. Do you struggle with this as well?
What did he mean on page 116 by saying: “I must remember that God’s kingdom is not an adjunct to US politics.”
We live on a planet ruled by powers intent on block and perverting the will of God. (p117) Do we think of evil powers ruling the world? Does he mean devils, or something else?
Do you believe that prayer in the face of evil will prevail.
Why are action and contemplation important? Why is “and” the most important word in the phrase? To which do you usually rely on most?
“The message is clear, history belongs to the intercessors who believe the future into being.” (p130) Do you agree?
Most important sentence to me, p130, “What would happen it we followed literally Jesus Command to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us?” Do you do this? Why don’t we do this? What if we did it in Church? The enemies of our country?
What difference doesprayer make?
Chapter 10 Does prayer change God?
What surprised you? Confused you? Troubled you? What new insights did you gain?
Does Yancey think prayer changes God?
Is God changeless or does God change? Does it trouble you that Scripture seems to agree with both statements?
Is a willingness to change essential to relationship? Does our love for God change God?
If God is outside time, can I pray for things that have happened before? Does my prayer for past events have an effect on these events?
Is there a quote that stands out for you?
Does prayer change God?
What surprised you? Confused you? Troubled you? What new insights did you gain?
Yancey seems to be struggling about whether prayer makes a difference or not. It did in the USSR and South Africa, and Romania, but not with the holocaust. Do you struggle with this as well?
What did he mean on page 116 by saying: “I must remember that God’s kingdom is not an adjunct to US politics.”
We live on a planet ruled by powers intent on block and perverting the will of God. (p117) Do we think of evil powers ruling the world? Does he mean devils, or something else?
Do you believe that prayer in the face of evil will prevail.
Why are action and contemplation important? Why is “and” the most important word in the phrase? To which do you usually rely on most?
“The message is clear, history belongs to the intercessors who believe the future into being.” (p130) Do you agree?
Most important sentence to me, p130, “What would happen it we followed literally Jesus Command to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us?” Do you do this? Why don’t we do this? What if we did it in Church? The enemies of our country?
What difference doesprayer make?
Chapter 10 Does prayer change God?
What surprised you? Confused you? Troubled you? What new insights did you gain?
Does Yancey think prayer changes God?
Is God changeless or does God change? Does it trouble you that Scripture seems to agree with both statements?
Is a willingness to change essential to relationship? Does our love for God change God?
If God is outside time, can I pray for things that have happened before? Does my prayer for past events have an effect on these events?
Is there a quote that stands out for you?
Does prayer change God?
Monday, October 15, 2007
Yancey Chapters 7 and 8
Join our online discussion, or come to disussion group on Yancey's book, Monday, October 15 7:00pm at the Church.
Yancey Chapter 7
Wrestling Match
Anything new from the chapter, what caught your eye? What excited you, made you wonder? Confused? What was the central insight of the chapter?
Can prayer be too polite? Is your private prayer as polite as public prayer.
Have you ever experienced public prayer that made you uncomfortable? Why do we prefer polite prayer?
Often, the expectation is that I as priest will help calm a situation. Is that helpful or should I let emotions be expressed honestly even if they are not “polite”?
As a leader of public prayer, it is much easier to control polite prayer.
I was struck by the insight that with Abraham, God did not put an end to the bargaining for mercy at Sodom but Abraham.
What do the prayers of Abraham, Moses and Jacob teach us?
“Wrestling feels a lot like making love”.
Is our prayer too indifferent? Am I too indifferent to the injustice in the world? Should I call God to task more?
Chapter 8
Partnership
Anything new from the chapter, what caught your eye? What excited you, made you wonder? Confused? What was the central insight of the chapter?
Yancey begins the chapter with the quote: ”History is the story of God giving away power.” What do you think he means?
God is reluctant intervener in history. The kingdom advances now through grace and freedom. What responsibility then do we have?
Prayer is cooperation with God, a consent that opens the way for grace to work. Is this a new insight for you. Does my prayer open me to do God’s will, is it a way of making myself available to do the work of God? What does this say about the importance of our life?
He mentions three stages of prayer.
1. Childlike request.
2. Meditation
3. Submission
Any reaction to these?
“Be slow to pray” cautions Eugene Peterson, p. 109. Why?
God relies on human partners to advance the process of creation.
Does the image of prayer as partnership change your way of praying, your expectation of prayer?
What is the result of prayer, if it deepens the partnership?
If we are God’s partners, in creation, what does that mean for our life?
Yancey Chapter 7
Wrestling Match
Anything new from the chapter, what caught your eye? What excited you, made you wonder? Confused? What was the central insight of the chapter?
Can prayer be too polite? Is your private prayer as polite as public prayer.
Have you ever experienced public prayer that made you uncomfortable? Why do we prefer polite prayer?
Often, the expectation is that I as priest will help calm a situation. Is that helpful or should I let emotions be expressed honestly even if they are not “polite”?
As a leader of public prayer, it is much easier to control polite prayer.
I was struck by the insight that with Abraham, God did not put an end to the bargaining for mercy at Sodom but Abraham.
What do the prayers of Abraham, Moses and Jacob teach us?
“Wrestling feels a lot like making love”.
Is our prayer too indifferent? Am I too indifferent to the injustice in the world? Should I call God to task more?
Chapter 8
Partnership
Anything new from the chapter, what caught your eye? What excited you, made you wonder? Confused? What was the central insight of the chapter?
Yancey begins the chapter with the quote: ”History is the story of God giving away power.” What do you think he means?
God is reluctant intervener in history. The kingdom advances now through grace and freedom. What responsibility then do we have?
Prayer is cooperation with God, a consent that opens the way for grace to work. Is this a new insight for you. Does my prayer open me to do God’s will, is it a way of making myself available to do the work of God? What does this say about the importance of our life?
He mentions three stages of prayer.
1. Childlike request.
2. Meditation
3. Submission
Any reaction to these?
“Be slow to pray” cautions Eugene Peterson, p. 109. Why?
God relies on human partners to advance the process of creation.
Does the image of prayer as partnership change your way of praying, your expectation of prayer?
What is the result of prayer, if it deepens the partnership?
If we are God’s partners, in creation, what does that mean for our life?
Sunday, October 14, 2007
sermon for October 14
October 14, 2007
Ruth 1:8-19
2 Timothy 2:8-15
Luke17:11-19
Not to rub it in any more, but I am sure some of you remember that two weeks ago the Episcopal clergy of Michigan were invited to a conference on Mackinac Island at the Grand Hotel. This was the fourth gathering of the clergy at the hotel, every other year for the past six. In some ways, we knew what to expect when we reached the island. And, I have to say, for the money we spent at the hotel, even with a huge discount gave us the right to some expectations. The food at the hotel was every bit as delicious as before. The service as exquisite. The setting as elegant. Everything about the island met our expectations. The discussions with the Presiding Bishop, the times of prayers, and the closing liturgy filled many of us with a sense of confidence and hope for the life of the Episcopal Church. We were fortunate to have had much time to leisurely walk through the shops on the Island without the crowds that descend in July and August. We were fortunate to have been able to rent bikes and ride around the Island in the peak of its fall colors. Even a year in which the splendors of autumn is a bit muted, the beauty was majestic. I am grateful for the opportunity Linda and I had to be on the Island.
But what I treasured most from our time on the Island, besides being with Linda, was not the meals, or the hotel, or the presiding bishop. What I treasured most was the opportunity I had on Wednesday afternoon to run around the Island. This is something that I began to think of way back in February and March when I was puttzing around in the wheel chair. This is something I dreamed of doing as I sat in St. Mary’s Hospital back in April with my blood clots. I barely dared to hope, and had no right to expect that come October I would have been a to be able to run around the Island. Friends, I did it. Much more slowly than before. And, definitely in more pain than in years past. But, I did it. And when I sat it the tub after I finished, I was also most in tears. I had skipped to famous Grand Hotel Luncheon Buffet to have time for the run. But, the ice water, grapes and the crackers I devoured after the run was the most delicious meal of the week.
Running has never been as joyful as it has been since I broke my leg.
Do you ever wonder what it must be like for someone who has been blind to see a sunrise? Do you ever wonder what it must be like to hear the voice of someone you love, after years of silence? Do you even wonder what it must be like to feel joy after months of depression? Do you ever wonder how delicious food must taste after you have starved? Do you ever wonder how exhilarating it is too laugh, after months of grief?
Think of all you experienced this past week, or just yesterday. The coffee, the apple pie. The voices of loved ones. The things you have seen, heard, touched or smelled. Think of friends you were with. Think of the games you watched or played. Think of the laughter shared. Think of driving your car, walking your pet, reading a book, hugging your children, embracing your beloved. How rich your life is because of each of these moments? Can you imagine these being taken away from you? Can you imagine how grateful you would be to have them back?
In the Gospel this weekend, Jesus cures ten lepers. Can you imagine the gratitude they felt in being cleansed? Not only were cured of a horrific disease. They were also cured of their isolation. After they were cleansed they could be welcomed back to their community, back to their family. After they were cleansed, they could return to the people they loved. In healing them, Jesus gave them back their life. There is no reason to doubt that all ten were grateful for the healing Jesus had granted them.
But, one man returned to Jesus, threw himself prostrate on the ground at this feet and thanked him.
What made him different? Why did he return, and not the others? It seems that the difference is somehow related to the fact that he was a Samaritan, he was a foreigner. Maybe the nine who were Jews expected Jesus to heal them. Jesus was a well known healer. He was a Jew like them, he was one of them, a fellow countryman. They, like him were of God’s chosen people. The Samaritan, had no right to any such expectation. He was despised by the Jews, hated, unclean, unworthy. He shared nothing with Jesus, he had no right to assume that Jesus would heal him. Yet, like the nine countrymen of Jesus, he too was made clean. He had no right to presume he would be healed. Yet he was. All were grateful, but the Samaritan was overwhelmed with gratitude. His gratitude, made him not only clean but well. His gratitude brought him salvation, fullness of life.
Sometimes I fear that we who have so much assume that God owes us. We--or I--have a sense of entitlement. Like the Grand Hotel, sometimes I come to God with my expectations. I almost presume that God owes me the food I eat, the air I breathe, the home I live in, the people who love me. I presume God owes me the right to go where I want to go, do what I want to do, buy what I want to buy. I have so much, and I take so much for granted. Sometimes, too often in fact, I forget to say thank you to God. Sometimes I fear that we who have been given so much assume that God even owes us forgiveness. I am not so bad. We are nice people. Never mind the state of our world. Never mind the violence in our cities, the weapons manufactured in our land, the wars waged in our name, the destruction caused by my standard of living. Never mind my waste, my neglect, my indifference. God will forgive us. Too often I mumble my way through the confession of sin, and too often I am so presumptuous, that I assume God owes me forgiveness. Too often, I barely utter my thanks.
The Samaritan throws himself at the feet of Jesus. How can we do the same? Did you notice that one of the ten returns? Perhaps, in this one in ten we have a clue. The Episcopal Church affirms the tithe as a standard of giving. Tithing means one tenth. Often we assume that tithing is about enriching the church. But it really is not about raising funds for the church. Tithing is about showing gratitude. Tithing is a way to make ourselves well. Perhaps we could move toward tithing. Move toward giving to God one tenth of what we have received as a way of giving thanks. Imagine if we gave to God one tenth of our day. One hour in ten of prayer, study, service to God’s people. If I am awake 15 hours a say…..give an hour and a half to study, to prayer, to visiting a lonely neighbor, to making a phone call, knitting a shawl, to writing congress, to making a meal, to serving as a tutor. When I buy groceries, buy one bag in ten and give it to a food pantry. To tithe my riches, and give one dollar out of ten to the spreading of God’s kingdom.
I do not doubt the gratitude of all the lepers healed by Jesus. The nine did their duty after were cleaned of their leprosy. But, it seems that perhaps they were not cured of their expectations, their sense of entitlement. They expected Jesus to heal them, and he did. May we imitate the Samaritan, the foreigner, the one who was not entitled, the one who had no right to expect healing. May we show our gratitude, not only by what we say but by what we do. May we show our gratitude and thank Jesus by placing our lives at his feet, in service to his world.
May we imitate the faith of the foreigner and like the Samaritan, may our faith filled gratitude make us well.
Ruth 1:8-19
2 Timothy 2:8-15
Luke17:11-19
Not to rub it in any more, but I am sure some of you remember that two weeks ago the Episcopal clergy of Michigan were invited to a conference on Mackinac Island at the Grand Hotel. This was the fourth gathering of the clergy at the hotel, every other year for the past six. In some ways, we knew what to expect when we reached the island. And, I have to say, for the money we spent at the hotel, even with a huge discount gave us the right to some expectations. The food at the hotel was every bit as delicious as before. The service as exquisite. The setting as elegant. Everything about the island met our expectations. The discussions with the Presiding Bishop, the times of prayers, and the closing liturgy filled many of us with a sense of confidence and hope for the life of the Episcopal Church. We were fortunate to have had much time to leisurely walk through the shops on the Island without the crowds that descend in July and August. We were fortunate to have been able to rent bikes and ride around the Island in the peak of its fall colors. Even a year in which the splendors of autumn is a bit muted, the beauty was majestic. I am grateful for the opportunity Linda and I had to be on the Island.
But what I treasured most from our time on the Island, besides being with Linda, was not the meals, or the hotel, or the presiding bishop. What I treasured most was the opportunity I had on Wednesday afternoon to run around the Island. This is something that I began to think of way back in February and March when I was puttzing around in the wheel chair. This is something I dreamed of doing as I sat in St. Mary’s Hospital back in April with my blood clots. I barely dared to hope, and had no right to expect that come October I would have been a to be able to run around the Island. Friends, I did it. Much more slowly than before. And, definitely in more pain than in years past. But, I did it. And when I sat it the tub after I finished, I was also most in tears. I had skipped to famous Grand Hotel Luncheon Buffet to have time for the run. But, the ice water, grapes and the crackers I devoured after the run was the most delicious meal of the week.
Running has never been as joyful as it has been since I broke my leg.
Do you ever wonder what it must be like for someone who has been blind to see a sunrise? Do you ever wonder what it must be like to hear the voice of someone you love, after years of silence? Do you even wonder what it must be like to feel joy after months of depression? Do you ever wonder how delicious food must taste after you have starved? Do you ever wonder how exhilarating it is too laugh, after months of grief?
Think of all you experienced this past week, or just yesterday. The coffee, the apple pie. The voices of loved ones. The things you have seen, heard, touched or smelled. Think of friends you were with. Think of the games you watched or played. Think of the laughter shared. Think of driving your car, walking your pet, reading a book, hugging your children, embracing your beloved. How rich your life is because of each of these moments? Can you imagine these being taken away from you? Can you imagine how grateful you would be to have them back?
In the Gospel this weekend, Jesus cures ten lepers. Can you imagine the gratitude they felt in being cleansed? Not only were cured of a horrific disease. They were also cured of their isolation. After they were cleansed they could be welcomed back to their community, back to their family. After they were cleansed, they could return to the people they loved. In healing them, Jesus gave them back their life. There is no reason to doubt that all ten were grateful for the healing Jesus had granted them.
But, one man returned to Jesus, threw himself prostrate on the ground at this feet and thanked him.
What made him different? Why did he return, and not the others? It seems that the difference is somehow related to the fact that he was a Samaritan, he was a foreigner. Maybe the nine who were Jews expected Jesus to heal them. Jesus was a well known healer. He was a Jew like them, he was one of them, a fellow countryman. They, like him were of God’s chosen people. The Samaritan, had no right to any such expectation. He was despised by the Jews, hated, unclean, unworthy. He shared nothing with Jesus, he had no right to assume that Jesus would heal him. Yet, like the nine countrymen of Jesus, he too was made clean. He had no right to presume he would be healed. Yet he was. All were grateful, but the Samaritan was overwhelmed with gratitude. His gratitude, made him not only clean but well. His gratitude brought him salvation, fullness of life.
Sometimes I fear that we who have so much assume that God owes us. We--or I--have a sense of entitlement. Like the Grand Hotel, sometimes I come to God with my expectations. I almost presume that God owes me the food I eat, the air I breathe, the home I live in, the people who love me. I presume God owes me the right to go where I want to go, do what I want to do, buy what I want to buy. I have so much, and I take so much for granted. Sometimes, too often in fact, I forget to say thank you to God. Sometimes I fear that we who have been given so much assume that God even owes us forgiveness. I am not so bad. We are nice people. Never mind the state of our world. Never mind the violence in our cities, the weapons manufactured in our land, the wars waged in our name, the destruction caused by my standard of living. Never mind my waste, my neglect, my indifference. God will forgive us. Too often I mumble my way through the confession of sin, and too often I am so presumptuous, that I assume God owes me forgiveness. Too often, I barely utter my thanks.
The Samaritan throws himself at the feet of Jesus. How can we do the same? Did you notice that one of the ten returns? Perhaps, in this one in ten we have a clue. The Episcopal Church affirms the tithe as a standard of giving. Tithing means one tenth. Often we assume that tithing is about enriching the church. But it really is not about raising funds for the church. Tithing is about showing gratitude. Tithing is a way to make ourselves well. Perhaps we could move toward tithing. Move toward giving to God one tenth of what we have received as a way of giving thanks. Imagine if we gave to God one tenth of our day. One hour in ten of prayer, study, service to God’s people. If I am awake 15 hours a say…..give an hour and a half to study, to prayer, to visiting a lonely neighbor, to making a phone call, knitting a shawl, to writing congress, to making a meal, to serving as a tutor. When I buy groceries, buy one bag in ten and give it to a food pantry. To tithe my riches, and give one dollar out of ten to the spreading of God’s kingdom.
I do not doubt the gratitude of all the lepers healed by Jesus. The nine did their duty after were cleaned of their leprosy. But, it seems that perhaps they were not cured of their expectations, their sense of entitlement. They expected Jesus to heal them, and he did. May we imitate the Samaritan, the foreigner, the one who was not entitled, the one who had no right to expect healing. May we show our gratitude, not only by what we say but by what we do. May we show our gratitude and thank Jesus by placing our lives at his feet, in service to his world.
May we imitate the faith of the foreigner and like the Samaritan, may our faith filled gratitude make us well.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Yancey, Prayer, Chapter 5 and 6
Here are some questions for Chapter 5 and 6 of Yancey's book "Prayer". Join us tonight, Mnday October 8 for our discussion at Church or post your comments/answers to the questions here.
Chapter 5 Coming Together What new insights did you gain from the chapter? Was there anything that confused you, troubled you, angered you, surprised you? Was Yancey’s comparison to prayer as a dialogue between friends helpful? Do you speak to God as a friend? If you have friendships of different levels, at what level is you friendship with God? An acquaintance? A neighbor? How close is this friendship? Friendships may deepen at times, or they may be more shallow, same with God? Is it hard to express your true feelings to God? The Jews, as many mid Eastern cultures are much more emotional than we in the Midwest. Does our Midwest “niceness” effect the way we pray? If we “hide” our emotions from ourself, how do we reveal them to God? Is serenity overrated in prayer? Maybe God wants our passion? “If I march through life pretending to smile, while inside I bleed, I dishonor that relationship.” Do you tend to smile over your bleeding in prayer? Does public prayer tend to be too nice? Have you ever heard raw emotion from someone in public prayer? Do you pray to know God? How does prayer help you know yourself?
Chapter 6 Why Pray? What new insights did you gain from the chapter? Was there anything that confused you, troubled you, angered you, surprised you? If God did not answer Jesus prayers, what hope do I have? Do you pray for trivia? Jesus prayed before he chose his apostles. Are you troubled by the choices he made? P. 85 Jesus prays for Peter, and perhaps Judas as well--expresses God’s unfathomable respect for human freedom. Even when he senses him close friend will betray him Jesus does not intervene with a freedom crushing miracle. He allows history to take its course, at enormous personal cost, praying all the while that even betrayal and death may be redeemed as part of the outworking of the grace of God. Does praying for a miracle interfere with freedom? Jesus knows the cost of divine restraint. He understood that redemption comes from passing through pain, not avoiding it. (p88) How hard it is to understand this. So much of prayer is about avoiding pain.
Chapter 5 Coming Together What new insights did you gain from the chapter? Was there anything that confused you, troubled you, angered you, surprised you? Was Yancey’s comparison to prayer as a dialogue between friends helpful? Do you speak to God as a friend? If you have friendships of different levels, at what level is you friendship with God? An acquaintance? A neighbor? How close is this friendship? Friendships may deepen at times, or they may be more shallow, same with God? Is it hard to express your true feelings to God? The Jews, as many mid Eastern cultures are much more emotional than we in the Midwest. Does our Midwest “niceness” effect the way we pray? If we “hide” our emotions from ourself, how do we reveal them to God? Is serenity overrated in prayer? Maybe God wants our passion? “If I march through life pretending to smile, while inside I bleed, I dishonor that relationship.” Do you tend to smile over your bleeding in prayer? Does public prayer tend to be too nice? Have you ever heard raw emotion from someone in public prayer? Do you pray to know God? How does prayer help you know yourself?
Chapter 6 Why Pray? What new insights did you gain from the chapter? Was there anything that confused you, troubled you, angered you, surprised you? If God did not answer Jesus prayers, what hope do I have? Do you pray for trivia? Jesus prayed before he chose his apostles. Are you troubled by the choices he made? P. 85 Jesus prays for Peter, and perhaps Judas as well--expresses God’s unfathomable respect for human freedom. Even when he senses him close friend will betray him Jesus does not intervene with a freedom crushing miracle. He allows history to take its course, at enormous personal cost, praying all the while that even betrayal and death may be redeemed as part of the outworking of the grace of God. Does praying for a miracle interfere with freedom? Jesus knows the cost of divine restraint. He understood that redemption comes from passing through pain, not avoiding it. (p88) How hard it is to understand this. So much of prayer is about avoiding pain.
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