Note: Today, January 16, Emanuel UCC is hosting a guest speaker, who will tell us of the challenges faced by Christians in Iraq. Guests are most welcome!! In place of a sermon, here's a message from Emanuel's January 2011 newsletter.
And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." Matthew 3:17
Happy 2011! As this newsletter goes to press, we give thanks to God for carrying us through the joys and challenges of 2010, and pray for God’s blessing in 2011. On the church calendar, it is the season of Epiphany, the revelation of Jesus to the world. In Matthew’s Gospel, Epiphany’s revelations begin with the visit of the Magi, Gentile “wise men” who came to pay homage to the Christ child. These revelations continue with the account of Jesus’ baptism, when a voice from heaven publicly proclaims Jesus to be God’s Son, the beloved, in whom God is well-pleased. We detour into John’s Gospel for a week, in which Jesus invites two of John the Baptist’s disciples to “come and see” where Jesus was staying, and where Jesus revealed Simon’s character by calling him Peter, meaning “Rock”. While Simon Peter’s character more often resembled shifting sand during the years in which Jesus walked the earth, after Christ’s resurrection, Peter did indeed become a rock of strength, a model of steadfast faith for the early church.
That’s often how it is for those seeking a deeper connection to their faith. We invite friends or neighbors to Emanuel Church, telling these friends to “come and see”. When these seekers “come and see” what God is doing at Emanuel Church, they may also gain new insight about their own lives, as they learn who they are and (more importantly) Whose they are. And like the Magi, they will not return by the same road they came. They cannot go back to their old lives and their old survival strategies. God will lead them on their journey of faith by another way. And perhaps, having “come and seen,” they will “go and tell” how God has blessed their lives.
Showing posts with label united church of christ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label united church of christ. Show all posts
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Monday, February 23, 2009
Transfigured
M Night Shymalan was acclaimed for his 1999 movie “The Sixth Sense.” You may remember the plot: a little boy who claimed, “I see dead people” is seeing a therapist. The therapist, played by Bruce Willis, listens to the boy tell of seeing the spirits of deceased people who do not know they’re dead. Meanwhile the psychiatrist is struggling with his own sense of estrangement from his wife, who does not speak to him and turns away from him when he’s in the room with her. The twist in the plot is the therapist ultimately discovers, to his dismay, that he himself is one of the dead people that the boy is seeing, and that his wife’s apparent silence and distance are expressions of her grief at his demise. This change in perspective allows the viewer to see everything that has gone before in a new way. The viewer who thought he or she was watching events unfold according to one pattern, found themselves at the end of the movie remembering these same events from a very different perspective.
In Sunday’s Gospel (Mark 9:2-9) Peter, James and John find themselves in a plot line that could come from one of Shymalan’s movies. You could say that it even involves the disciples seeing dead people. Peter had just declared his insight that Jesus was the Messiah – but then Jesus had disappointed Peter and the others by foretelling his suffering and death, that Jesus would be a very different Messiah than they expected. We’re told that six days later, Jesus led Peter, James and John up to a high mountain, away from the other disciples. Then Jesus was transfigured before them – “his clothes became dazzling white, whiter than any bleach could make them.” On either side of Jesus were Moses and Elijah, who spoke to Jesus.
What are we to make of all this? It’s certainly interesting to read about long-ago mountaintop experience, but what does that have to do with us?
I suspect many of us, maybe all of us, have had what could be called mountaintop experiences, times when, even if only for a few minutes or even a few seconds, we were seemingly lifted up out of our normal routine and given a moment or two of transcendence – moments when we could see beyond the normal daily humdrum and business to feel a sense of the big picture, a sense of connection with everything around us, a sense of knowing and being known, perhaps a sense of the eternal significance of the ordinary acts of love and caring that are part of our daily routine. Celtic Christians had a phrase – “thin places” – for their experiences of finding the veil separating earth and heaven seemingly thinner than usual, so that they could almost glimpse beyond time into eternity. These brief mountaintop experiences can provide perspective and renewed passion to help us slog through the muck and mire of our daily lives.
Our time in worship can sometimes be a mountaintop experience. Occasionally God breaks through the routine of familiar hymns and Scriptures to touch us directly. The words of a hymn go right to our souls, and we well up with tears of gratitude. Notes from organ accompaniment or other sacred music may seemingly reach right in and touch and heal our broken hearts. A Scripture strikes us as if God had written those very words just for us and just for the circumstances we’re going through. Perhaps a sermon illustration helps us see a nagging longtime frustration in a new light.
We can carry with us the memory of those mountaintop moments, those times when God seemed especially close. They can give us the perspective of eternity – the perspective that we’ve never had an ordinary, meaningless day in our lives, that no such thing as an ordinary day exists, that God is in us and in our neighbor, that God can use our most seemingly throwaway conversations and meaningless acts to bring about salvation, to usher in the Kingdom of God. As Christian writer C. S. Lewis put it,
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations-these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit-immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. . . . Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses.”
May God transfigure our perspective on our neighbors, on our lives, and on the many gifts that God bestows on each of us – that every waking moment contains opportunities for service to God, that every encounter with another human being contains the potential for a life-changing encounter.
In Sunday’s Gospel (Mark 9:2-9) Peter, James and John find themselves in a plot line that could come from one of Shymalan’s movies. You could say that it even involves the disciples seeing dead people. Peter had just declared his insight that Jesus was the Messiah – but then Jesus had disappointed Peter and the others by foretelling his suffering and death, that Jesus would be a very different Messiah than they expected. We’re told that six days later, Jesus led Peter, James and John up to a high mountain, away from the other disciples. Then Jesus was transfigured before them – “his clothes became dazzling white, whiter than any bleach could make them.” On either side of Jesus were Moses and Elijah, who spoke to Jesus.
What are we to make of all this? It’s certainly interesting to read about long-ago mountaintop experience, but what does that have to do with us?
I suspect many of us, maybe all of us, have had what could be called mountaintop experiences, times when, even if only for a few minutes or even a few seconds, we were seemingly lifted up out of our normal routine and given a moment or two of transcendence – moments when we could see beyond the normal daily humdrum and business to feel a sense of the big picture, a sense of connection with everything around us, a sense of knowing and being known, perhaps a sense of the eternal significance of the ordinary acts of love and caring that are part of our daily routine. Celtic Christians had a phrase – “thin places” – for their experiences of finding the veil separating earth and heaven seemingly thinner than usual, so that they could almost glimpse beyond time into eternity. These brief mountaintop experiences can provide perspective and renewed passion to help us slog through the muck and mire of our daily lives.
Our time in worship can sometimes be a mountaintop experience. Occasionally God breaks through the routine of familiar hymns and Scriptures to touch us directly. The words of a hymn go right to our souls, and we well up with tears of gratitude. Notes from organ accompaniment or other sacred music may seemingly reach right in and touch and heal our broken hearts. A Scripture strikes us as if God had written those very words just for us and just for the circumstances we’re going through. Perhaps a sermon illustration helps us see a nagging longtime frustration in a new light.
We can carry with us the memory of those mountaintop moments, those times when God seemed especially close. They can give us the perspective of eternity – the perspective that we’ve never had an ordinary, meaningless day in our lives, that no such thing as an ordinary day exists, that God is in us and in our neighbor, that God can use our most seemingly throwaway conversations and meaningless acts to bring about salvation, to usher in the Kingdom of God. As Christian writer C. S. Lewis put it,
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations-these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit-immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. . . . Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses.”
May God transfigure our perspective on our neighbors, on our lives, and on the many gifts that God bestows on each of us – that every waking moment contains opportunities for service to God, that every encounter with another human being contains the potential for a life-changing encounter.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Cooties
Do you remember back in grade school, there always seemed to be one or two kids who nobody liked? Maybe they came from poor or otherwise troubled families, and their clothes might be frayed hand-me-downs. They were always the last to be picked for games at recess, and always walked home from school alone. In my small-town grade school, there was Sheila, whose family was very poor. Everyone said that “Sheila has cooties.” As she walked home, the kids would chant, “Sheila has cooties, Sheila has cooties.” Nobody wanted to get too close to Sheila, because if you did, you might get cooties too. I have no idea whatever happened to Sheila, but I doubt she has a lot of fond memories from her years as a student in elementary school.
This week’s Gospel reading (Mark 1:40-45) reminded me of Sheila’s plight. In his travels, Jesus was approached by a leper – a man who had the skin disease of leprosy. Leprosy was a dreaded disease – disfiguring, and thought to be highly contagious. This was 1900 years before the discovery of penicillin or any sort of treatment, and so the only remedy was a public health approach – quarantine and isolation – just as some may remember for TB and flu and other epidemics before the invention of antibiotics. The idea of quarantine is that the authorities couldn’t cure those infected, but they could at least try to slow down or stop the spread of the disease by isolating the sick person. The book of Leviticus has very detailed instructions on how to tell leprosy from other skin diseases, and what procedures were to be taken in case of infection. Leviticus 13:45-46 “The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.”
In our Gospel today, the leper acted outside of the prescribed procedures – rather than shouting “unclean”, he asked Jesus for healing – “if you choose, you can make me clean.” After which we run headlong into a translation problem. Most of our Bibles say that in response to the leper’s plea, Jesus was moved with compassion. But some more recent translations may have a note at the bottom that says, “alternate translation – Jesus was moved with anger” – perhaps at the isolation the man had to endure. Exactly what Jesus felt, we don’t know – the translators aren’t certain, and neither are we. What we do know from the text is that Jesus said, “I do choose” and healed the man.
We don’t hear much about leprosy these days. As of a few years ago, the last leper colony, on the island of Molokoi, had only a handful of elderly leprosy patients. However, every society treats certain groups of “others” as lepers, or as though they have cooties.
Who are the lepers, the untouchables in our society? You know who they are – among them are the groups whom politicians beat like a piñata every election season, blaming them for all our problems. One example is the homeless, from whom we may avert our eyes as we walk down the street. (I’m as guilty as anyone else.) And it’s true that many of the homeless we see downtown are addicted to drugs and alcohol. Yet many in our society are living closer to the edge than we know, a few paychecks or pension checks away from being out on the street, a few paychecks or pension checks away from being one of those from whom we avert our eyes. And in today’s economy, if we’re not blessed with a strong support network of family and friends and church, we can find ourselves over the edge very quickly indeed.
Those with mental health problems frequently find themselves in extreme isolation. Our society frequently doesn’t treat mental illness as seriously as physical illness – the attitude is that the mentally ill are not “really” sick in the way that people with diabetes or heart disease are sick. Insurance companies frequently offer very limited coverage for mental health treatment – maybe 8 sessions with a therapist - if they offer any at all. Those without insurance may “self-medicate” with alcohol or street drugs. Employers who would offer common decency to a co-worker recovering from a heart attack may not offer anything like the same common decency to a co-worker struggling with severe depression. Jokes about multiple personalities or being treated like “the crazy aunt in the attic” can be funny – except if you’re mentally ill, in which case the punch line can feel like a punch in the gut.
Jesus told the healed leper, “Go, and show yourself to the priest.” In Jesus’ day, the priest had the role of reintroducing the healed leper to the wider society. We in the church have no magic cure for illness, but we do have a cure for the isolation of being shunned by society. The love of Christ enables us – and compels us - to include where others exclude, to embrace those whom others shun. For in the end, we’re every one of us broken in some way or another. All of us struggle with sin, struggle with frailties of body and spirit. While we try to distance ourselves from those who are different, using phrases like “the homeless” or “the mentally ill”, ultimately there’s no “the”, no them, only us, all of us. Ultimately the welcome we offer our society’s untouchables is the welcome God offers us.
This week’s Gospel reading (Mark 1:40-45) reminded me of Sheila’s plight. In his travels, Jesus was approached by a leper – a man who had the skin disease of leprosy. Leprosy was a dreaded disease – disfiguring, and thought to be highly contagious. This was 1900 years before the discovery of penicillin or any sort of treatment, and so the only remedy was a public health approach – quarantine and isolation – just as some may remember for TB and flu and other epidemics before the invention of antibiotics. The idea of quarantine is that the authorities couldn’t cure those infected, but they could at least try to slow down or stop the spread of the disease by isolating the sick person. The book of Leviticus has very detailed instructions on how to tell leprosy from other skin diseases, and what procedures were to be taken in case of infection. Leviticus 13:45-46 “The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.”
In our Gospel today, the leper acted outside of the prescribed procedures – rather than shouting “unclean”, he asked Jesus for healing – “if you choose, you can make me clean.” After which we run headlong into a translation problem. Most of our Bibles say that in response to the leper’s plea, Jesus was moved with compassion. But some more recent translations may have a note at the bottom that says, “alternate translation – Jesus was moved with anger” – perhaps at the isolation the man had to endure. Exactly what Jesus felt, we don’t know – the translators aren’t certain, and neither are we. What we do know from the text is that Jesus said, “I do choose” and healed the man.
We don’t hear much about leprosy these days. As of a few years ago, the last leper colony, on the island of Molokoi, had only a handful of elderly leprosy patients. However, every society treats certain groups of “others” as lepers, or as though they have cooties.
Who are the lepers, the untouchables in our society? You know who they are – among them are the groups whom politicians beat like a piñata every election season, blaming them for all our problems. One example is the homeless, from whom we may avert our eyes as we walk down the street. (I’m as guilty as anyone else.) And it’s true that many of the homeless we see downtown are addicted to drugs and alcohol. Yet many in our society are living closer to the edge than we know, a few paychecks or pension checks away from being out on the street, a few paychecks or pension checks away from being one of those from whom we avert our eyes. And in today’s economy, if we’re not blessed with a strong support network of family and friends and church, we can find ourselves over the edge very quickly indeed.
Those with mental health problems frequently find themselves in extreme isolation. Our society frequently doesn’t treat mental illness as seriously as physical illness – the attitude is that the mentally ill are not “really” sick in the way that people with diabetes or heart disease are sick. Insurance companies frequently offer very limited coverage for mental health treatment – maybe 8 sessions with a therapist - if they offer any at all. Those without insurance may “self-medicate” with alcohol or street drugs. Employers who would offer common decency to a co-worker recovering from a heart attack may not offer anything like the same common decency to a co-worker struggling with severe depression. Jokes about multiple personalities or being treated like “the crazy aunt in the attic” can be funny – except if you’re mentally ill, in which case the punch line can feel like a punch in the gut.
Jesus told the healed leper, “Go, and show yourself to the priest.” In Jesus’ day, the priest had the role of reintroducing the healed leper to the wider society. We in the church have no magic cure for illness, but we do have a cure for the isolation of being shunned by society. The love of Christ enables us – and compels us - to include where others exclude, to embrace those whom others shun. For in the end, we’re every one of us broken in some way or another. All of us struggle with sin, struggle with frailties of body and spirit. While we try to distance ourselves from those who are different, using phrases like “the homeless” or “the mentally ill”, ultimately there’s no “the”, no them, only us, all of us. Ultimately the welcome we offer our society’s untouchables is the welcome God offers us.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Wings
Today’s Old Testament reading from Isaiah 40 says, in part, “Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.” Today’s Gospel (Mark 1:29-39) gives us one of Jesus’ secrets for how he was able to deal with the demands of the crowds who came to him for healing and help. Mark 1:35 says, “In the morning, while it was still very dark, [Jesus] got up and went to a deserted place, and there he prayed.” For Jesus to help those who came to him, he needed regular quality time in prayer to God.
Communities of religious – monks, nuns – maintain a balance between prayer and work, or in Latin, ora et labora. Both are necessary for spiritual balance and growth. They drew this model from the life of Jesus, who would periodically draw away from the crowds to draw near God in prayer. Both are needed – constant activity that’s not spiritually grounded can run itself into the ground with exhaustion; constant meditation exclusive of service can easily become a head trip, pie in the sky fantasy and self-indulgence. We might think of the two arms of the cross, the vertical and the horizontal. True connection with God – true vertical connection – will inevitably lead us to make a true horizontal connection with neighbor. Ora provides the grounding for labora.
At a time when I was feeling burned-out by work and church demands, I went to a conference sponsored by my denomination. The keynote speaker told the story of her conversation with a volunteer who complained of feeling burned out. The keynote speaker told the volunteer, “You’re not burned out. You haven’t even caught fire yet.”
The way to catch fire and keep the flame burning bright is to go regularly to God in prayer. Prayer is how we keep our ears open and pay attention to the direction in which God is calling us. Prayer is how we keep our eyes open to catch the vision of how our individual lives and the life of Emanuel Church fit into the larger life of the Kingdom of God. Like Jesus, we must come away from the crowds and our workaday lives, to spend time in prayer with God. Empowered by God in prayer, we, like Jesus, can then return to the crowds and our daily tasks, can go back to our places of ministry renewed, refreshed, and ready to soar with wings like eagles as we serve our loving God.
Communities of religious – monks, nuns – maintain a balance between prayer and work, or in Latin, ora et labora. Both are necessary for spiritual balance and growth. They drew this model from the life of Jesus, who would periodically draw away from the crowds to draw near God in prayer. Both are needed – constant activity that’s not spiritually grounded can run itself into the ground with exhaustion; constant meditation exclusive of service can easily become a head trip, pie in the sky fantasy and self-indulgence. We might think of the two arms of the cross, the vertical and the horizontal. True connection with God – true vertical connection – will inevitably lead us to make a true horizontal connection with neighbor. Ora provides the grounding for labora.
At a time when I was feeling burned-out by work and church demands, I went to a conference sponsored by my denomination. The keynote speaker told the story of her conversation with a volunteer who complained of feeling burned out. The keynote speaker told the volunteer, “You’re not burned out. You haven’t even caught fire yet.”
The way to catch fire and keep the flame burning bright is to go regularly to God in prayer. Prayer is how we keep our ears open and pay attention to the direction in which God is calling us. Prayer is how we keep our eyes open to catch the vision of how our individual lives and the life of Emanuel Church fit into the larger life of the Kingdom of God. Like Jesus, we must come away from the crowds and our workaday lives, to spend time in prayer with God. Empowered by God in prayer, we, like Jesus, can then return to the crowds and our daily tasks, can go back to our places of ministry renewed, refreshed, and ready to soar with wings like eagles as we serve our loving God.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Come and See
It’s been quite a year for sports in Philadelphia! The Phillies, for the first time since 1980, won the World Series, breaking a long, long dry spell. There were some years after 1980 when the Phillies got really close – I remember 1993, when Philly won the national league championship and Dykstra and Daulton and Kruk and Williams and Schilling and the others got so close to a victory – but they seemed to choke near the end. After a while, we could perhaps be forgiven for figuring “why bother getting our hopes up. The Phillies always choke at the end. Must be something in the water….” But seemingly 2008 was the year the curse was lifted, as the Fighting Phils went all the way.
Sunday’s Gospel reading reminded me a little of the Phillies. Jesus went for a walk in Galilee, and met Philip, who became a follower. Philip, full of excitement over having met Jesus, goes to Nathanael and says, “We have found him of whom Moses and the prophets spoke, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth. Nathanael finds little reason to get his hopes up, and mutters, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth.” Philip says, “Come and see.” So Nathanael follows Philip to Jesus, who says, “Here comes an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” Nathanael says, “where did you come to know me?” Jesus said, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Nathanael does a 180 degree turn and says, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God, the King of Israel.” Jesus said, “Do you believe because I saw you under the fig tree? You’ll see greater things than these.” Or, to put it in today’s terms, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
I think sometimes we who live in Philadelphia can be a little like Nathanael before his meeting with Jesus. We remember that some amazing things happened downtown at Independence Hall some years back, but 1776 was a long time ago. We don’t see much of that vision of Philadelphia anymore – what we see now more resembles journalist Lincoln Steffans’ description of Philadelphia – “corrupt and contented.” When people from the suburbs think of Philadelphia, probably the first things that come to their minds are “crime and taxes”. And those things are on our minds as well. Even here in Bridesburg, police officers have been gunned down not that far from where we live, and incidents of petty vandalism seem to be a daily occurrence. And we read on a daily basis about huge city budget deficits, and worry about what police and fire and recreation center services will be cut in order to balance the budget. And all that is in addition to our own personal struggles. We can sometimes get to feeling beaten down by life, and it may sometimes be hard to feel much hope for the future.
I’d invite anyone reading this blog to “come and see” what God is up to in Bridesburg. God is with us here in Philadelphia, here in Bridesburg, here at Emanuel Church on Fillmore Street. As Jesus saw Nathanael under a fig tree, before Philip called him, so God sees each one of us, every day. And God has plans for each of us that would blow our minds, were we to be able to see the future. God is at work in all the churches in Bridesburg – All Saints, Bridesburg Methodist, the Presbyterians, Baptists…certainly at Emanuel United Church of Christ. If you’re attending elsewhere and are being fed spiritually – praise God! We’d love for you to visit at Emanuel, but we have no desire to poach members from other congregations. But (here comes my bloggy version of an altar call) if you’re looking for a spiritual home, for a community of faith, and haven’t found one elsewhere, “come and see” us here at Emanuel Church some Sunday at 10 a.m. We’re a small congregation, but we’re good at welcoming people – and who knows, along with the coffee and cake afterward, you could have a life-changing (even life-saving) experience with God. Come and see.
Sunday’s Gospel reading reminded me a little of the Phillies. Jesus went for a walk in Galilee, and met Philip, who became a follower. Philip, full of excitement over having met Jesus, goes to Nathanael and says, “We have found him of whom Moses and the prophets spoke, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth. Nathanael finds little reason to get his hopes up, and mutters, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth.” Philip says, “Come and see.” So Nathanael follows Philip to Jesus, who says, “Here comes an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” Nathanael says, “where did you come to know me?” Jesus said, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Nathanael does a 180 degree turn and says, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God, the King of Israel.” Jesus said, “Do you believe because I saw you under the fig tree? You’ll see greater things than these.” Or, to put it in today’s terms, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
I think sometimes we who live in Philadelphia can be a little like Nathanael before his meeting with Jesus. We remember that some amazing things happened downtown at Independence Hall some years back, but 1776 was a long time ago. We don’t see much of that vision of Philadelphia anymore – what we see now more resembles journalist Lincoln Steffans’ description of Philadelphia – “corrupt and contented.” When people from the suburbs think of Philadelphia, probably the first things that come to their minds are “crime and taxes”. And those things are on our minds as well. Even here in Bridesburg, police officers have been gunned down not that far from where we live, and incidents of petty vandalism seem to be a daily occurrence. And we read on a daily basis about huge city budget deficits, and worry about what police and fire and recreation center services will be cut in order to balance the budget. And all that is in addition to our own personal struggles. We can sometimes get to feeling beaten down by life, and it may sometimes be hard to feel much hope for the future.
I’d invite anyone reading this blog to “come and see” what God is up to in Bridesburg. God is with us here in Philadelphia, here in Bridesburg, here at Emanuel Church on Fillmore Street. As Jesus saw Nathanael under a fig tree, before Philip called him, so God sees each one of us, every day. And God has plans for each of us that would blow our minds, were we to be able to see the future. God is at work in all the churches in Bridesburg – All Saints, Bridesburg Methodist, the Presbyterians, Baptists…certainly at Emanuel United Church of Christ. If you’re attending elsewhere and are being fed spiritually – praise God! We’d love for you to visit at Emanuel, but we have no desire to poach members from other congregations. But (here comes my bloggy version of an altar call) if you’re looking for a spiritual home, for a community of faith, and haven’t found one elsewhere, “come and see” us here at Emanuel Church some Sunday at 10 a.m. We’re a small congregation, but we’re good at welcoming people – and who knows, along with the coffee and cake afterward, you could have a life-changing (even life-saving) experience with God. Come and see.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
What Are You Waiting For?
This Sunday’s Gospel reading (Luke 2:22-40) includes the story of the presentation of Jesus at the Temple, and the encounter of Mary and Joseph with the aged Simeon and Anna. Scripture tells us that Simeon was “righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It has been revealed to Simeon by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.” Simeon sees the young couple, weary from their travels, and in the baby Jesus, Simeon recognizes that for which he had waited his entire life. He responds with the words, “Now let thy servant depart in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation….” The aged prophetess Anna was also in the Temple that day, as she had been every day for the decades since the passing of her husband. She, too, recognized the child as the fulfillment of her years of waiting, and gave praise and glory to God.
The book of Proverbs 29:18 contains these words, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” Conversely, the Apostle Paul in Romans 8:24 writes, “For we are saved by hope.” With a vision, our lives are given meaning and purpose. I’ve often read of elderly persons, even persons struggling with terminal illness, who seemingly willed themselves to stay alive to witness the marriage of a child, or to see the birth of a grandchild. After the wedding, after the birth, they give themselves permission to say “Now let thy servant depart in peace….” In the same way, even in more mundane circumstances, if we as individuals have a vision of the good news Christ offers, a vision of how God has called us to live in response to this good news as disciples of Christ, it will give us strength to overcome many of our daily challenges. If we allow ourselves to be led by Christ, we won’t be deflected by the annoyances and challenges that are a part of every day.
The year 2008 is rapidly coming to a close. Some can likely look back on 2008 with gratitude. Others are ready to say “good riddance.” Regardless of how we experienced 2008, in a few days, God willing, we will awake to begin the year 2009. A brand new year is coming, full of promise, likely full of challenge as well. In the year ahead, let us “look to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”
The book of Proverbs 29:18 contains these words, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” Conversely, the Apostle Paul in Romans 8:24 writes, “For we are saved by hope.” With a vision, our lives are given meaning and purpose. I’ve often read of elderly persons, even persons struggling with terminal illness, who seemingly willed themselves to stay alive to witness the marriage of a child, or to see the birth of a grandchild. After the wedding, after the birth, they give themselves permission to say “Now let thy servant depart in peace….” In the same way, even in more mundane circumstances, if we as individuals have a vision of the good news Christ offers, a vision of how God has called us to live in response to this good news as disciples of Christ, it will give us strength to overcome many of our daily challenges. If we allow ourselves to be led by Christ, we won’t be deflected by the annoyances and challenges that are a part of every day.
The year 2008 is rapidly coming to a close. Some can likely look back on 2008 with gratitude. Others are ready to say “good riddance.” Regardless of how we experienced 2008, in a few days, God willing, we will awake to begin the year 2009. A brand new year is coming, full of promise, likely full of challenge as well. In the year ahead, let us “look to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
O Holy Night
As with many churches, Christmas Eve is one of two days (the other being Easter) when the whole Emanuel Church family is with us. Our congregation is not large, even on Christmas Eve, but our members and friends drove in from Bucks County and New Jersey to spend Christmas Eve at Emanuel.
Tonight was my second Christmas Eve at Emanuel UCC. I added a few more carols this year and was concerned that the service might run overtime – but I needn’t have worried. A meaningful time was had by all. Kudos to Emanuel’s organist, Ralph Fisher, who outdid himself to make this year’s Christmas Eve service extra special.
Merry Christmas to all!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
A Holy Interruption
John Lennon’s song “Beautiful Boy”, written for his son Sean, contains the words, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” Tomorrow’s New Testament reading (Luke 1:26-55) is about God bringing new life to Mary while she was busy making other plans. We’re not told exactly what Mary was going when the Angel Gabriel appeared to Mary, but we can be reasonably certain that the visit was not expected. Mary wasn’t sitting by the window waiting for Gabriel to come up the front walk. Rather, the Angel Gabriel came to Mary and said, “Greetings, favored one! Blessed are you among women.”
Mary is understandably perplexed, and wondered what sort of greeting this might be. She’s suspicious of this stranger with his words of friendly greeting. Was this stranger blessing her, or setting her up to take advantage of her? The angel senses her fear, and says, “Do not be afraid, for you have found favor with God. And now you will conceive and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary understandably objects, “But I am a virgin” or as some translations say, “I do not know a man.” The angel explains that God will make all this possible, and tells her that in her old age her cousin Elizabeth is six months along in her pregnancy – for nothing will be impossible with God.” Mary gets in the last word: “Here am I, a servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. God broke in on Mary with new life at a time when she least expected it. “Blessed are you among women” Gabriel said. And Mary was blessed – because she was willing to allow a holy interruption to her plans.
Mary heard the words, “Blessed are you among women!” What does it mean to be blessed? When we pray, “We give you thanks, O God, for our many blessings…” what do we think of? Good health, a job, a family. Prominent evangelists such as Joel Osteen and the wonderfully named Creflo Dollar preach that “God wants us rich”. But Gabriel’s words and Mary’s response give us a very different picture of what it means to be blessed. For Mary, being blessed meant being part of God’s plan, being used by God – even at great personal cost. Being blessed means being where the action is, action in this case meaning God’s acts of saving the world. May we have eyes to see and ears to see the ways in which God is waiting to interrupt our plans, to experience the blessings God has for those whose trust is in the Lord.
Mary is understandably perplexed, and wondered what sort of greeting this might be. She’s suspicious of this stranger with his words of friendly greeting. Was this stranger blessing her, or setting her up to take advantage of her? The angel senses her fear, and says, “Do not be afraid, for you have found favor with God. And now you will conceive and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary understandably objects, “But I am a virgin” or as some translations say, “I do not know a man.” The angel explains that God will make all this possible, and tells her that in her old age her cousin Elizabeth is six months along in her pregnancy – for nothing will be impossible with God.” Mary gets in the last word: “Here am I, a servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. God broke in on Mary with new life at a time when she least expected it. “Blessed are you among women” Gabriel said. And Mary was blessed – because she was willing to allow a holy interruption to her plans.
Mary heard the words, “Blessed are you among women!” What does it mean to be blessed? When we pray, “We give you thanks, O God, for our many blessings…” what do we think of? Good health, a job, a family. Prominent evangelists such as Joel Osteen and the wonderfully named Creflo Dollar preach that “God wants us rich”. But Gabriel’s words and Mary’s response give us a very different picture of what it means to be blessed. For Mary, being blessed meant being part of God’s plan, being used by God – even at great personal cost. Being blessed means being where the action is, action in this case meaning God’s acts of saving the world. May we have eyes to see and ears to see the ways in which God is waiting to interrupt our plans, to experience the blessings God has for those whose trust is in the Lord.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
To Live Again
At Emanuel UCC, one of the groups meeting at our church is called "To Live Again." It is a bereavement support group for those whose spouses have passed away. They meet on the 2nd Saturday of most months, beginning with a dinner at 6 p.m. (At present, I don't have a link to any contact information for the group; I'll update this post if I get any information.) They have traditionally invited the pastor and other members of Emanuel to attend their December meeting, and so I represented Emanuel UCC this year. It was my first meeting with the group, and while most of those present were middle-aged or older, they were a lively (verging on rowdy) bunch. For a group whose members have experienced mourning, the room was full of life. Several wanted to see the sanctuary of the church (which is upstairs from the social hall) and so I turned on the lights and invited them to take a look. (They didn't get away without a commercial; I also invited them to our 10 a.m. worship and our 7 pm Christmas Eve service.) I was grateful for the reminder that even out of death, God brings new life.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Rejoice!
As I write this, tomorrow (December 14) is the third Sunday in Advent. In some traditions, it is called “Gaudete Sunday” – the Latin word “gaudete” means “ rejoice”. Below is part of tomorrow’s Old Testament reading:
The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me;
he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,
to bind up the broken-hearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and release to the prisoners;
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor….
Isaiah 61:1-2a
Many Bible scholars think that this text was written at some time after the return from exile in Babylon. The descendents of those who had been exiled to Babylon were finally allowed to return home to Jerusalem – but Jerusalem had been in ruins for decades, the Temple little more than a pile of rubble. Isaiah wrote to encourage those who were struggling to rebuild, to proclaim that God was with them, even in the midst of all their problems.
In Luke 4:14-30 (which is not one of tomorrow’s readings), Jesus preached on this text in his hometown synagogue in Nazareth. His sermon was brief: “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” In Luke’s Gospel, for Jesus, this text was a kind of mission statement. And it’s also a mission statement for those who follow Christ today. Given the state of the economy, many find it difficult to rejoice, even as Christmas approaches. It’s important for the church to be a place where those who struggle can find good news. As God was with those struggling to rebuild in Jerusalem thousands of years ago, God is with us now – and so even in the midst of our problems, we can rejoice.
The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me;
he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,
to bind up the broken-hearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and release to the prisoners;
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor….
Isaiah 61:1-2a
Many Bible scholars think that this text was written at some time after the return from exile in Babylon. The descendents of those who had been exiled to Babylon were finally allowed to return home to Jerusalem – but Jerusalem had been in ruins for decades, the Temple little more than a pile of rubble. Isaiah wrote to encourage those who were struggling to rebuild, to proclaim that God was with them, even in the midst of all their problems.
In Luke 4:14-30 (which is not one of tomorrow’s readings), Jesus preached on this text in his hometown synagogue in Nazareth. His sermon was brief: “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” In Luke’s Gospel, for Jesus, this text was a kind of mission statement. And it’s also a mission statement for those who follow Christ today. Given the state of the economy, many find it difficult to rejoice, even as Christmas approaches. It’s important for the church to be a place where those who struggle can find good news. As God was with those struggling to rebuild in Jerusalem thousands of years ago, God is with us now – and so even in the midst of our problems, we can rejoice.
Hello Bridesburg, Hello World
This is the initial entry of what I hope to be a regular series of posts on happenings at Emanuel United Church of Christ, located on Fillmore Street in the Bridesburg section of Philadelphia. (Website: www.emanuelphila.org) Before this blog goes on any further - everyone is invited to join us in worship Sundays at 10 a.m.
The gospel reading for December 7 is from Mark's gospel, which begins with the words, "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." And then the story moves quickly to John the Baptist, that strange character we encounter preaching in the wilderness, telling his listeners to look for the coming of someone who was even greater than John. John preached a gospel of repentance - a bit of church lingo meaning "change". John was telling his listeners that the way they were living their lives would not bring peace with God, reconciliation with neighbor, or health and wholeness in their own lives. Presumably his listeners already knew that the status quo wasn't working, which is why they heard John's words gladly. They were seeking for something beyond what they knew, for something more.
Our Old Testament reading is from Isaiah 40, which begins with the words, "Comfort ye" - but continue with words about change - "every valley shall be exalted, every hill brought low...". Isaiah, and John the Baptist, offer a strange sort of comfort. They bring a challenge - things must change; we ourselves must change. But for people stuck in a place of pain and grief, comfort comes from the idea that things *can* change, that we *can* change, that we don't have to be stuck in a world of hurt.
For the writer of Mark's gospel, good news began with the message of John the Baptist. And this is how good news begins for us. Perhaps we're experiencing family struggles, or facing illness or the loss of a job. We're feeling depressed, anxious, perhaps overwhelmed. And then someone - a family member, a friend - spends time with us, shares advice, gives us hope. For us, moments like this can be the beginning of good news.
During this Advent season, many of our neighbors are struggling. The economy is dismal, with many local employers eliminating positions and city government cutting services. Many of our neighbors are stressed. We can offer our neighbor a kind word or a helping hand, or maybe just our presence. Who knows what effect a random word of kindness or act of caring may have? Maybe for our neighbors, our words or actions can be the beginning of good news.
The gospel reading for December 7 is from Mark's gospel, which begins with the words, "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." And then the story moves quickly to John the Baptist, that strange character we encounter preaching in the wilderness, telling his listeners to look for the coming of someone who was even greater than John. John preached a gospel of repentance - a bit of church lingo meaning "change". John was telling his listeners that the way they were living their lives would not bring peace with God, reconciliation with neighbor, or health and wholeness in their own lives. Presumably his listeners already knew that the status quo wasn't working, which is why they heard John's words gladly. They were seeking for something beyond what they knew, for something more.
Our Old Testament reading is from Isaiah 40, which begins with the words, "Comfort ye" - but continue with words about change - "every valley shall be exalted, every hill brought low...". Isaiah, and John the Baptist, offer a strange sort of comfort. They bring a challenge - things must change; we ourselves must change. But for people stuck in a place of pain and grief, comfort comes from the idea that things *can* change, that we *can* change, that we don't have to be stuck in a world of hurt.
For the writer of Mark's gospel, good news began with the message of John the Baptist. And this is how good news begins for us. Perhaps we're experiencing family struggles, or facing illness or the loss of a job. We're feeling depressed, anxious, perhaps overwhelmed. And then someone - a family member, a friend - spends time with us, shares advice, gives us hope. For us, moments like this can be the beginning of good news.
During this Advent season, many of our neighbors are struggling. The economy is dismal, with many local employers eliminating positions and city government cutting services. Many of our neighbors are stressed. We can offer our neighbor a kind word or a helping hand, or maybe just our presence. Who knows what effect a random word of kindness or act of caring may have? Maybe for our neighbors, our words or actions can be the beginning of good news.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
