Sermons & Public Writings of Our Minister

The weekly sermon at First Baptist is posted here as soon as possible. Also, as the minister writes for print media from time to time, "public writings" are posted as well.  The sermons are in reverse chronological order and stretch back to June 2006, generally adhering to the Revised Common Lectionary readings.  If you would like to utilize something from one of my sermons, please remember good clergy ethics and ask!  Email:  fbpastor@sover.net.

Entries in Year B sermon (4)

Monday
16Nov2009

Why We Gather (Hebrews 10:11-25)

The book of Hebrews often gets a short shrift in New Testament study.  In churches, Hebrews is sprinkled lightly across the three year cycle of scripture readings we follow.  In seminaries, the situation is not much better.  The story goes that a seminary professor of preaching assigned each student a different New Testament passage to preach on.  A student (in fact one nearing graduation) noted his assigned text came from Hebrews.  “Hebrews!” he was heard to exclaim. “I don’t want to preach from the Old Testament.”  So it goes, a person who attended church, even went to seminary, had such a fuzzy memory of this book even being in the canon of Scripture. 

            The book of Hebrews is considered one of the finest New Testament writings, a complex exhortation to live in Christ.  Of course, describing the book of Hebrews as “a complex exhortation” has yet to get people excited enough to say, “Let’s read Hebrews! We love complex exhortations!” 

            So why did the Epistle writer decide to exhort so complexly?  The writer wanted to exhort his readers.  (By the way, “to exhort” means to encourage or to urge strongly.)  The Epistle is sent to a group of Christians who are faltering in the faith.  In fact, the epistle writer describes his readers as people with “drooping hands” and “weak knees” (cf. Hebrews 12:12), which gives us an interesting image that does not say “church vitality”. The Epistle aims to remind, to stir up, and to bring alive a church gone complacent.   The book of Hebrews reminds the Church throughout the ages that we will go through times when we feel a bit wore down, yet in Christ, we find hope and renewal. 

Indeed, many Christians (even those who get fuzzy on which side of the canon the book appears) can recall the book’s roll call of the heroes of the faith, culminating with Jesus, the one who has run ahead of us as the pioneer and perfecter of the faith.  Imagine if you will, the Epistle likens the journey of faith as a pilgrimage as well as that last lap around the track, where the crowd cheers you on.  The life of faith knows hardship and challenge, yet Jesus calls to us, not as someone aloof from the world, as Jesus has lived a life that also knew the fragility and frailty of human life.  The Epistle writer sets up his encouraging word by summoning the church to remember who they are.  You are not a people of drooping hands and weak knees. You are the people who can run with strength and grace, following the Christ and those in Christ who have gone on before.

As part of the encouragement, the epistle writer turns to worship.  Why does worship matter?   It serves as a weekly reminder, a gathering with fellow believers to pray, to sing, and to remember, a rhythm by which Christians live their lives.   Contemporary preacher and scholar Thomas G. Long notes that worship ought to be “the nuclear reactor” of a congregation, the place where we are energized anew and sent forth.  The Epistle to the Hebrews notes a gathering of Christians able to run the race of faith remembers the waters of baptism, confesses their faith with full heart, encourages one another, and lives expectantly for the Promised End. 

A few weeks ago, the Comparative Religions course students from Southern Vermont College visited First Baptist and Saint Peter’s Episcopal Church.  At First Baptist, we began with the students sitting in the pews, where they listened to my lecture on Baptist worship.  We sang a few hymns, and then I talked about the communion service.  Then came the big moment as the students helped me move the altar out of the way and I had the students come up to the chancel and observe me demonstrating when it comes to baptism, Baptists prefer drowning sinners good.

The baptistery did not have water inside. We simply worked with a student serving as the baptismal candidate as I simulated how we “dunk”.  As I explained this ritual, I found myself growing tearful, which puzzled me a bit.  I don’t tend to cry all that often or easily. 

Later that evening, I thought about why I reacted so.  As I pondered the experience, I realized that of all the elements of Baptist worship I could speak about objectively, that is, as a religious professional explaining ritual practices, I could not explain baptism only in matter-of-fact terms.  I know the biblical, historical, and theological discussions about baptism backwards and forwards.  Yet standing there as a sort of liturgical “tour guide” for a group of students on a field trip, I could not talk about baptism in a baptistery without feeling something deep within.  My baptism happened twenty-five years ago, yet the experience has not ended with toweling off afterwards.  Knowing myself as a baptized Christian is not a mere moment long ago. Baptism defines us and inaugurates the journey ahead of us.  Indeed, you cannot just talk about being baptized.  The ritual and the commitment shape a Christian all the way along the pilgrim journey.  In turn, baptism is part of the things that hold all Christians together in common. 

The epistle writer offers that we confess our faith as another way of grounding ourselves in Christ.  It is thought that the Epistle actually opens with a quotation, a creedal statement attesting to the faith of the congregation:

Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds.  He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being and he sustains all things by his powerful word.  When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name has inherited is more excellent than theirs. (Heb 1:1-4)

While we Baptists tend to forgo the reciting of creeds in worship, the role of creeds are important to note, as they give a pattern to belief.  Sometimes when you are feeling a bit lost or listless, words of faith can draw us back to what matters.  A few years ago, the late historian Jaroslav Pelikan spoke to a group of theological librarians about a research project that turned out to be his last major project:  a multi-volume exploration of the creeds of Christianity.  Pelikan and a colleague assembled every creed or statement of faith known.  Pelikan talked about his experiences researching creeds and helping document why these statements of faith helped various Christian groups testify to their beliefs.  In the midst of all of this work, Pelikan claimed creeds are best understood as words to which you have given your heart.  To a church in need of renewal, the Epistle writer reminds them to remember those words that shape their lives together and indeed remind us why “fear” is never the last word.  The exhortation makes good sense: “Hold fast to the confession of hope”.  Reminding ourselves we are a people of resurrection and Easter hope makes possible a new way through the sin-fractured, broken world.

For churches, the next reminder is perhaps one of the most critical.  For individual believers and the congregations alike, the epistle writer asks for the people to encourage one another.  It might sound a bit remedial, something we already think we know how to do, yet the epistle writer is quite wise in suggesting encouragement in the same breath as our baptism and our confession.  Churches need that constant reminder to be hospitable, welcoming to the stranger.  To be reminded to be encouraging to one another is also of importance, sharing a word of support or a sign of care with a fellow believer going through a struggle or enduring hardship. 

Think about the times in your life when that card or note appeared unexpectedly in the mailbox or on the computer screen.  Remember the times when it did not.  Quite a difference between the two experiences!  One enriches the mutual relationship we have in congregations.  The other leads down the path to flagging energies and stagnation.  We need the ministry of encouragement.  Harvard chaplain and American Baptist minister, the Rev. Dr. Peter Gomes observed this vision of a “New Testament church” is quite winsome.  Such a fellowship of encouragement is “short on doctrine and rules and long on fellowship and encouragement”.  (“A Word of Encouragement”, The Christian Century, November 5, 1997, p. 1001)  This is the sort of fellowship First Baptist aspires to be: a place welcoming the stranger and providing mutual care for one another.  It is hard work, yet in its results, rewarding and remarkable.  As I say to someone in hospital at the end of a visit, “Remember, the church is praying for you”, it is part of that ministry of encouragement.  Nothing is more inclusive than encouragement.  Nothing is more alienating than the absence of encouragement.   A congregation that encourages is able to grow and flourish.  One can have the (supposed) “right” evangelism outreach book or program, yet if the congregation cannot encourage one another, how can anyone expect to make it all along life’s journey with a confident faith?  We need one another in order to grow in Christ.

One final word:   The epistle presumes baptized, hope confessing, mutually encouraging Christians look forward to the End Times.  This is where a number of Christian movements falter: some obsessing about the End Times (and coming up with increasingly arcane and insular views of theology and practice) and others pay little attention (admittedly to avoid coming off like the “other side”).  Christians affirm there is a promised End, when Christ shall return, when all things shall be made new and the old order of things is no more.  While some traditions within Christianity take the “odd interpretation” route, Christianity in its most robust sense believes the future is God’s to bring about.  For the people first reading the epistle we call “Hebrews”, they had little energy and hope, letting the discouragement eclipse the encouragement, allowing their baptismal promises be a distant memory and their confession uncertain.  The epistle writer offers a rousing reminder of the past (remember the saints who have gone before us) and the future (live with confidence that God shall have the last word), all in order to exhort them to live a new sort of present, one less given to buckling and just calling it a day.  Christians are to live as they believe.  When we believe with hope, we live by hope.

Recently, I read a definition of Baptists that I like.  The British Baptist scholar Keith G. Jones calls us to be “a community changed and increased by the dynamic work of the Spirit” (cited Christopher Ellis, Gathering, SCM Press, 2004, p. 244).  It sounds quite consistent with the Epistle to the Hebrews:  a people on the pilgrim way, living and confessing together in Christ’s hope, living together as mutual encouragers, and looking forward to the times yet to come.  It is a word for the church in any generation. It is a word for First Baptist.

Lift up your hands, O people!  Strengthen those knees!  Keep to the journey! 

Sunday
18Oct2009

Lessons in Power (Mark 10:35-45)

                All of this sounds so familiar:  the disciples have an internal scuffle about the pecking order among them, and some barely veiled jockeying for position takes place.  Who among us the greatest?  Which one of us gets the choice seat by Jesus’ side?  Haven’t we already dealt with this story a few times over of late?

                You can rest assured, if you have been here most Sundays lately the gospel readings have tread down similar paths.  In Mark, chapters 8 through 10, the narrative prepares to move into the critical days of Jesus drawing near the fateful time in Jerusalem, and three times Jesus predicts what will unfold.   Each time, the same pattern occurs:  Jesus predicts his passion.  The disciples miss the point.  Jesus gives a corrective word.   The repetition might seem a bit redundant however we see in each instance, the disciples are not quite ready to embrace the fullness of Jesus’ discipleship.  Jesus asks them to follow a path that is not easy.  As the old hymn asks, “Are you able,” said the Master, “to be crucified with me?”  The response to Christ comes from disciples the hymn calls the “sturdy dreamers”, the ones who will say yes to a life shaped by a cross-carrying, gospel attuned life.  Unfortunately, for the disciples in Mark’s gospel, they daydream of power and influence.  They do not know that the real story of discipleship unfolds in sometimes harrowing ways.  As Gandhi said in more recent times, people tend to want a religion shaped by worship without sacrifice.

The disciples keep falling back into familiar ruts or “scripts” innate to human nature, grasping the ways they know rather than risking themselves fully and taking up the way of Jesus.  Even after hearing of the passion about to come, James and John, the Zebedee boys, are more worried about the seating chart in the glory and power to come.  I find it remarkable that Jesus did not bawl them out on the spot.  No, Jesus keeps it gentle.  To follow the way of Jesus Christ, the power that the world lifts up is not what you learn with Jesus’ teachings.  He gives a lesson about power that the Zebedee brothers might not catch onto right now.  Be careful what you ask for, as the way of Jesus will be one of sacrifice.  Behold the rest of the gospel after this, as Jesus stands up for principles and evidences unshakable obedience to God.  By the gospel’s end, it is unmistakable: Jesus’ difficult way and the bravado (the false or untested bravery) of the inner circle followers.  As Jesus dies on the cross, his disciples have scattered, Zebedee boys included.  Those at his right and left are two anonymous men, two criminals, who die alongside Jesus.  The way of Jesus is not easy, shaped by a glory strangely unknown amid the competing views of fame and power.

The brothers Zebedee need a lesson in humility.  They ask for favor when Jesus comes into his glory.  Jesus tells them of the difficult days ahead and his foreknowledge of the same difficulties await those who follow.  For all he knows, for all he teaches, Jesus still reserves the last word, the final authority to God alone. 

A few years ago, psychologist and writer Robert Coles recounted a conversation he had as a young man while working with Dorothy Day, the founder of the Catholic Worker movement.  Day was a fiery spirit, comfortable staring down civic and religious authorities if it allowed the basic needs and rights of people to be met, particularly for those who were poor and marginalized.  Day noted that such a life of service and advocacy was not easy.  Some days, it seemed as if the work was endless and the results were minimal.  Day observed that it can be a long stretch of time before one has a sacred moment, a time when one has great clarity about one’s purpose and service to God.  You have to learn how to live in the times of “sacred moments and long secular days”.  (AMERICA, Nov. 1996)

The Zebedee brothers want confirmation they are on the right path and indeed will experience a great payoff in the end.  The life of faith does not work that way, though we sometimes try to make faith about what we would like to have rather than what the way of Jesus asks us.  We are called as the finite and fallible people we are, people with individual strengths and weaknesses.  We follow, taking leave of the world’s scripts about what matters as well as our own ego, desires, passions, and myopias.  It is a challenge to put into checks our fears, anxieties, pretenses, and sinfulness, so that we can live out our lives in Christ.  (And that’s just the list of things I need to work on!) We follow, working out the edges of our lives all the days of our journey on this earth.  And to live the life of faith, one able to wait, to watch and pray, this takes a fair acquaintance with humility.

To be humble is to know your place in the scheme of things.  The saints of God, those who followed Christ and are remembered by the Church, were not people with their heads up in the clouds.  They practiced a form of obedience to God and a witness to the gospel that each one of us is called to undertake.  As we near “All Saints” in the church calendar, think of those “greats of the faith” known to you in your life, and you will see a common thread:  persons who were merely human yet lived a life of trust in God.  They might be among those some parts of the Church has put on a list declaring them “saints” or they could be people just known to a few.  There have been saints among us, those who follow Jesus intentionally.  And pray for yourself and for these others around you this day that you might too be in this good company.

Humility often gets elevated to a high and unattainable standard or confused with a veneer of piety people put on so as to appear important or “holy”.  Humility is a stripping down of self, allowing the goodness of Christ to suffuse and reshape us.  You cannot follow Christ without being humble in your discipleship.  From the ancient witness of the Desert Fathers and Mothers, we are reminded of a wise Christian woman named Syncletica, who observed, “A ship cannot be built without nails and no one can be saved without humility”.  (The Desert Fathers, edited by Benedicta Ward, New York, NY: Penguin Books, 2003, 161)  

The other night, I heard two lectures given at the Southern Vermont College course on comparative religion.  (I was delighted to listen, as it meant I was not on the docket myself as a course lecturer!)  The evening featured a lecture on the traditions of Catholics and Quakers.   The Quaker lecture was given by Bain Davis, a member of the Interfaith Council and the Bennington Friends (Quakers) Meeting.  Bain’s task was to explain Quaker ways, especially in relationship to the tradition’s social activism and pacifism.  For most of the outside world, Quakers are known for being silent in worship (something admittedly puzzling to Baptists) and their commitments to be a “peace testimony church”.  As Bain explained Quaker ways, he noted that the tradition aims to bring the best out in a person by helping a person develop religious habits that enable a more peaceable life.  In turn, a person who is so attuned enables others to discover this goodness within them.  Quakers strive to see the goodness in all persons, even those who might be considered less good or without much good at all.  Humility brings the best within us to the surface and empowers us to move through the world with peace, love, and grace.  We give ourselves over to becoming the person where the label “humble” just seems to fit.

One of the books I treasure is Henri Nouwen’s book In the Name of Jesus, a small book he wrote on Christian leadership.  Nouwen’s book is a quick read, yet he traces a model for ministry that still serves as a touchstone in my own work.  I read it for the first time on a college choir tour, however, I read it from time to time even today as a reminder of what I am called to do.  Nouwen wrote the book after a period of life where he felt a bit lost.  His successful career in academia had grown less attractive, and Nouwen found himself searching for new meaning in his life and ministry.  Nouwen was invited to live among disabled persons as part of a communal living approach to disability care.  Nouwen served as a chaplain to a gathering of disabled persons and their care providers, learning a markedly different way to serve and care as a minister.  As he recounted later, he was not the Ivy League professor or noted author to the members of this community.  He was called to be Henri.

Humility is not easy.  It disarms us of our pretenses.  To be humble admits the Christian story ends in a way shaped by the cross and points to the new life Christ gives us in his resurrection glory.  We do not seek out the seat at his right or left.  We allow ourselves to flourish in our simplicity and our devotion, not in the pursuit of matters seeking to self promote.  We are humble because we have chosen to be nothing else.

It is similar to the story drawn from Nikos Kazantzakis’ book about St. Francis.  As Francis instructs his followers on living simply and trusting God alone.  Francis tells his disciples,

Strengthen the world that is tottering and about to fall:  strengthen your hearts above wrath, ambition, and envy.  Do not say: “Me! Me!”  Instead, make the self, that fierce insatiable beast, submit to God’s love.  This “me” does not enter paradise, but stands outside the gates and bellows.” (St. Francis, p. 309)

To illustrate his point, Francis tells of a holy man who goes to the gates of heaven after living a devout life.  Each time the holy man comes to the gate, a voice cries out, “Who is there?”  And the holy man says, “It is me.”  The voice says, “There is no room for two here.  Go away.”  The holy man winds up plummeting back to earth, given a chance to learn again and approach the gates when he has learned his lesson.

Finally, after a number of times approaching the gates with the same result, the holy man realizes his error.  When he approaches the gates, the voice calls out again, “Who is there?”  And the holy man says, “It is you.” 

With that, the gates to paradise open.   (See St. Francis, 309-10).

Sunday
30Aug2009

The Messy Kitchen (selections from Mark 7)

 

The Messy Kitchen   Mark 7

At the movies this weekend, people are flocking to see “Julie and Julia”, a film based on a book based on a blog.  While working in New York City, Julie Powell decided to try her hand at all of the recipes in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  Her experiences, good and bad, of cooking her way through Julia Child’s book resulted in an online diary (“blog”), which in turn became a book: Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen, published in 2005.  The film’s popularity has created another remarkable twist to the story.  Despite being published forty-nine years ago, Mastering the Art of French Cooking is at the top of the best-seller list again.

Julia Child’s kitchen is now in the Smithsonian collection in Washington, DC.  You can walk into a special display at the Museum of American History, seeing everything exactly as Julia Child kept her kitchen before she donated all of it lock, stock, and “ladle” in 2001.  It is a well-designed space, a testament to Child’s practical sensibilities.  For example, her kitchen range, a six burner Garland commercial gas range was purchased in 1956, used, for $429.  Installed at the family home in 1961, she used it right up until her retirement in 2001.  (SOURCE: http://americanhistory.si.edu/juliachild/jck/html/textonly/ob4.asp)

Julia Child, played with eerie perfection by Meryl Streep in the film, valued cooking as an art that anyone could enjoy.  Julia also kept to a long-held cooking secret shared down the generations:  the five second rule.  In the midst of cooking with cameras rolling, she would drop things and pick them up, noting that it is okay to do so, “as you are alone and who is to know?”

For some people, Julia gave permission to learn how to cook and know it is okay to bend the occasional rule.  For others, Julia’s trial and error ways with food sometimes hitting the floor was a bit distasteful. Julia Child was a bane to the existence of uptight grandmothers with June Cleaver meets Martha Stewart sensibilities about kitchen hygiene.  Julia is probably still considered a menace to society according to food safety inspectors.  For some people, five seconds is okay.  To others, it is unfathomable! 

The story of Jesus engaging the Pharisees might come off as an exercise in pedantic sensibilities.  Does it matter if you use an ingredient fallen to the floor if picked up within the five second rule?  Does it matter to eat food without ritually washing one’s hands?  Why is this considered a conflict?

In the interpretation of the Gospels, Christians have tended to treat the Pharisees as a religious sect of Judaism gone too far.  The Pharisees valued a stringent religious life, however, we have to understand their views with due care, as we shall explore this morning.  Further, certain elements to the gospels make unfortunately blanket statements about Jewish practices that we do need to understand as overstatements.  For example, look at Mark’s narration here:  “The Pharisees, and all the Jews, do not eat unless they wash their hands….” Scholars versed in first century Judaism would dispute this sort of claim.  To say that all Jews keep this practice in the first century as resolutely or rigidly as Mark claims is similar to someone walking into this congregation and saying (with all presumption of authority): “All Baptists think alike.”

So why did the Pharisees become irked by Jesus’ followers eating with defiled hands?  The Pharisees emphasized an observance of Jewish law that placed high value on careful and detailed applications of the Law.  If there is to be purity, work tirelessly to ensure that you keep pure. Keep things purified, even down to one’s eating of the right foods with the appropriate rituals.  Pharisees desired to keep the Law by creating an ever-increasing number of rules to augment the Law. 

At this point, Christian interpreters err on casting Judaism in a negative light. American Baptist biblical scholar Bill Herzog claims this interpretation tends to place “Jesus’ conflicts with the Pharisees as a religious quarrel in which Jesus is replacing the Law (read Torah) with a Christian theology of grace and discipleship” (William R. Herzog, II, Prophet and Teacher, Westminster/John Knox, 2005, p. 79).  Over the centuries, “the Pharisees and all the Jews” have become lumped in as everything that Jesus was not, and to whom Jesus was fundamentally opposed. In recent years, Christian scholars have begun to atone for caricaturizing Judaism and working towards new readings of the texts.  In my seminary training, we talked at length about Jesus as a first century Jew who respected the Law yet engaged in questioning elements of how the Law was being interpreted by the Temple and certain religious movements. In plain terms, the New Testament ought to be read in a way that recognizes Jesus was grounded in Judaism, observant of its practices, yet he offered criticism and correctives meant to respect and keep the faith.  While he and the Pharisees clashed over issues, they actually stood on common ground:  what does it mean to be an observant Jew and keeper of the law?

The Pharisees had serious issues with Jesus’ followers moving among those who were deemed impure.  The Pharisees kept a rigorous set of rules around purity, as Jesus highlights in his response to the Pharisees.  As for Jesus himself, the Pharisees struggled to see Jesus as observant.  By this point in Mark’s gospel, Jesus has touched lepers, a woman long suffering from hemorrhages, and even a corpse (Jarius’ daughter, whom Jesus brought back from the dead). (Here, Malina and Rohrbaugh, Social Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels, Fortress Press, 224, shows the score in Mark’s gospel by this point in the narrative.)  This in itself is repugnant behavior by Pharasaic standards.

Add to this Jesus’ comfort dining at table with people the Pharisees considered the dregs of society (tax collectors and other sinners), and it is no wonder that the Pharisees felt obliged to question Jesus and the disciples while eating.  They were impure many times over as they touched and encountered others, but the lack of any effort to purify their hands was deeply unsettling to the Pharisees.

Jesus criticizes the Pharisees for their obsession, not their respect for holiness and purity.  He warns them faith is not in one’s keeping of traditions and practices, which the Pharisees kept augmenting and ornamenting beyond the intent of the law.  Pharisees took the faith so seriously that the complexities of life began to become eclipsed.  Jesus reached out to the masses who were disenfranchised by the Temple, Jerusalem and Roman authorities, and even the “traditions of the elders” being held by the Pharisees to the point they could not see much beyond the narrow tightrope of piety.

Again, the cautionary word to Christian interpretation arises:  this impulse for exacting adherence is not unique.  For example, the Protestant Reformer John Calvin would have been horrified by some of his followers, as Calvinists have diverged off into forms of religious purity that would give the Pharisees a run for their money.  The writer Garrison Keillor gives a tongue in cheek reflection on what happens when Christianity gets afflicted.  In his 1985 novel Lake Wobegon Days, Keillor tells semi-autobiographical stories of growing up in a fundamentalist sect, the Sanctified Brethren.  This religious movement has a very strict religious worldview, which Keillor notes led the Sanctified Brethren to struggle with the concept of church unity.   Keillor writes,

Once having tasted the pleasure of being Correct and defending True Doctrine, they kept right on and broke up at every opportunity until, by the time I came along, there were dozens of tiny Brethren groups, none of which were speaking to any of the others.

Our Lake Wobegon bunch was part of a Sanctified Bretheren branch known as the Cox Brethren, which was one of a number of “exclusive” Bretheren branches—that is, to non-Coxians, we were known as “Cox Brethren”; to ourselves, we were simply The Brethren, the last remnant of the true Church.  Our name came from Brother Cox in South Dakota who was kicked out of the Johnson Brethren in 1932—for preaching the truth!  So naturally my Grandpa and most of our family went with Mr. Cox and formed the new fellowship. (Lake Wobegon Days, New York, NY: Viking, 1985, p. 105-6)

Intense scholarship was the heart of the problem.  We had no ordained clergy, believing in the priesthood of all believers, and all were exhorted to devote themselves to Bible study.  Some did, Brother Louie and Brother Mel in particular.  In Wednesday-night Bible reading, they carried the ball, and some nights you could see that the Coxes of Lake Wobegon might soon divide into the Louies and Mels.  (p. 107)

Patching up was not a Brethren talent.  As my Grandpa once said of the Johnson Brethren, “Anytime they want to come to us and admit their mistake, we’re perfectly happy to sit and listen to them and then come to a decision about them.” (footnote, 107)

The Cox Brethren of St. Cloud held to the same doctrines as we did but they were not so exclusive, more trusting of the world—for example, several families owned television sets.  They kept them in their living rooms, out in the open, and on Sunday, after meeting and before dinner, the dad might say, “Well, I wonder what’s on”, knowing perfectly well what was on, and turn it on—a Green Bay Packers game—and watch it.  On Sunday. (111).

           The scuffle here between Jesus and the Pharisees serves as a story needing careful interpretation as well as being a story we need to tell.  What does it mean to keep the faith?  How do we connect heart to head and hands?  Jesus speaks of a faith that keeps God at the forefront and the world not at pietistic arm’s length.  He moved in the midst of the world, across the boundaries (geographic, societal, economic, and religious alike).  Keeping the faith is not about a faith so perfectly kept that it has no wrinkles as well as no wear and tear from being out in the midst of the world.  People of faith, Christians, Jews, and any others, are called to be a people moved by conviction and compassion, deep faith as well as radical love, and ultimately, for the love of God, get their hands dirty, tending a broken world.

 

Sunday
16Aug2009

The Fear and the Fool (Proverbs 9:1-6)

The Fear and The Fool

 

 When you walk into a large bookstore (Borders, Barnes and Noble), you will often find a “super sale” section of books. It is an odd collection of overstock books. For example, you will find hardback copies of former best sellers—usually the ones that you bought for top dollar when the book first released and now there you spot that great book, dozens of copies piled in a corner, all at rock bottom prices. You can find a number of “how to” books: cookbooks, “fix it yourself” house repair books, books on popular people, places, or historical events. Then, almost hidden, sandwiched between a book on plumbing and a book on Civil War nurses, you spy a small volume of “quotable quotes” of famous persons throughout the ages.

 These collections of quotations are fun reading for a rainy Saturday afternoon. An old quote by Shakespeare might be the first time you read the Bard since high school and entice you to read Hamlet again. Quotations from famous people in history can make you laugh a bit or give you something funny to say while having dinner with friends. Books like this might cost just a dollar or two on sale, but the treasures of thoughtful and wise sayings inside can be appreciated for years to come.

 In the Bible, we have a similar book of quotations. The book of Proverbs is a source of ancient wisdom, little sayings about human existence, observations about daily life as well as the big questions. Here, the reader encounters sayings delightful and astonishingly relevant as well as other proverbs a bit perplexing, a product of a bygone generation.

One of the recurring themes of the Wisdom writings is its affirmation that you have to be of certain maturity (age, life experience, and horse sense) to understand them. When I read and teach Proverbs and the other “Wisdom” writings found in the Bible (Ecclesiastes and the Book of Job), I note my youth. Thus, at this point, I am going to call in assistance. When I think of age, life experience, and horse sense, I invited Mary Harrington to help me with part of the sermon. Mary will read a few proverbs to help us experience the wide range of observations about life offered by the book of Proverbs:

First: A proverb about the stages of life (or why age matters):

The glory of youths is their strength, but the beauty of the aged is their gray hair.

 

Second: A proverb about the importance of laughter:

A cheerful heart is a good medicine,
but a downcast spirit dries up the bones.

The book of Proverbs speaks to what seems like modern day issues. Take for example this proverb that seems to speak about couch potatoes:

The lazy person buries a hand in the dish,
and will not even bring it back to the mouth.

 

 

Sometimes, the book of Proverbs shows the problem of quoting ancient scripture. Could you imagine this proverb for marriage counseling?

It is better to live in a corner of the housetop
than in a house shared with a contentious wife.


Proverbs takes a straightforward approach to the idea that humans can do foolish things:

 

The clever see danger and hide;
but the simple go on, and suffer for it.

 

In their strangeness, the proverbs challenge us to appreciate the beauty of words able to speak deeply to the foibles and glory of human existence and the life of faith. While some proverbs are inescapably bound to a past era and its culture, the little sayings witness to the pursuit of Wisdom. As we explore them, we find the pursuit of Wisdom and her ways is a worthy journey.

 

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,
and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight.

 

The book of Proverbs offers a variety of wise sayings about human life. Some proverbs make you laugh. Some make you scratch your head, a bit befuddled. More than a few proverbs make you nod, hearing in ancient sage wisdom a word that speaks to you about the perplexities of your life. The question, however, is what separates this biblical book from other collections of wise sayings. Why would ancient Israel add this book to their sacred writings?

The Hebrew Scriptures were written as part of a culture deeply in love with and respectful of wisdom. In the ancient Near East cultures, wise persons were highly revered as “those who understood the basic order of the created world and lived in fidelity with it.” (The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, S-Z, p. 863). Proverbs are deceptive: a few words that hold deep wisdom, illumining truth, laden with truths pointing toward a better way through life.

In the book of Proverbs, there are many warnings against being foolish: seeking out ways to shortcut your way through life or acting brashly or without considered thought. The book of Proverbs “presents a traditional view of the path of wisdom, the path to a good life: live in harmony with others, obey the commandments of God, and be sensitive and caring for those less fortunate than yourself.” (Ibid., 865).

To describe Wisdom, the book of Proverbs claims the wise path goes clear back to the very creation of the world. The wisdom humanity seeks is rooted in the divine, as God is heralded as the source of all good and fruitful knowledge. Like other ANE cultures, Wisdom is personified, described as a woman who dances at the beginning of creation, and in whom God takes great delight.

The book of Proverbs depicts Lady Wisdom calling out to anyone and everyone, not merely in the temple or the royal courts, but out in the midst of the market and streets. Wisdom is not reserved for the powerful or the pious. Instead, the path of wisdom, the way toward a deeper and more meaningful life, is open to all persons.

Later tonight, the Emmy-winning Mad Men begins its third season on AMC. Set in the 1960s, Mad Men follows the stories of executives and their staff at the offices of the Sterling Cooper advertising agency on Madison Avenue in New York City. The lead character is Don Draper, a rising star in advertising. He cuts a fine figure: a tall, handsome man with impeccable taste in suits. He is a “rain maker”, tasked with bringing in major business accounts. Draper is a talented “ad man”. He creates dynamic campaigns nearly effortlessly, leaving his colleagues awestruck or intensely jealous.

From all outside appearances, Don Draper is the epitome of the ideal man. He has the trappings of the 1960s upper middle class Euro-American ideal: a beautiful wife, two children, and a beautiful home to go along with his executive perks and privileges at work. He is successful, good looking, and seems to have it all under control. Draper, however, is a complicated man. He lies compulsively. He hides many secrets about his past. He habitually steps out on his wife and evidences a variety of other self-destructive habits.

The show keeps pressing questions of whether or not the culture that Don Draper moved within was really that great. Racial minority, female, and gay characters are shown bearing the brunt of Draper’s world of “white male privilege”. While Draper enjoys the high life, it comes at the expense of others.

I cite Don Draper as sermon material as the original audience for the book of Proverbs is thought to be the privileged young men of Israel. These proverbs serve as brief lessons for living your life without the foolishness and the vanities of success. Proverbs is the word to those whom need “age, life experience, and horse sense” so they do not become the fools of their day. Draper smokes and drinks his way through his upscale life, able to pull off remarkable feats with his business dealings. Last season ended with Draper returning home to find his wife and children had left. He sits there in the darkness, the reality of how he has lived his life sinking in.

 

To be a follower of Wisdom is to go back to the basics of very existence, seeking a simple path and refraining from the many temptations of gaining power, wealth, or success by quick fixes or scheming. (Note: If this is the case, a good old Bible study on biblical wisdom might do Wall Street and Washington, DC, a world of good.) It can be a word of grace to us that our lives are not meant to be struggling constantly after unattainable things. Indeed, we can live earnestly without pretense and be at peace with our humanity. We do not need to be anything but ourselves, God’s beloved children.

Wisdom builds a house where everyone is welcome. It is a place where a fine meal awaits, and we have on good authority Wisdom herself is a good dancer. What more could we want from our lives? To seek out wisdom is to move ourselves further away from the illusions we chase and closer to the fruitful and rewarding life for which we yearn.