Thursday, May 28, 2009

Pentecost

Each Sunday the Sunday School children begin worship with us in the sanctuary. After the Gathering rite and before the scripture readings I sit down with them on the chancel steps and talk to them, usually about the scripture reading they'll be focusing on in their Sunday School lesson, then I say a prayer with them and send them off to Sunday School. Here's my Children's Chat for this Sunday, the Day of Pentecost



Who paid attention and knows what day it is today? It’s Pentecost.

Pentecost means 50, and today it’s 50 days after Easter. Easter doesn’t seem that long ago to me. The Jewish people celebrated Pentecost long before Jesus, long before there were Christian churches. For them it wasn’t 50 days after Easter, but 50 days after Passover, another festival when the Jews remembered and gave thanks to God for setting their ancestors free from slavery. The Pentecost celebration had two meanings for them. It was a celebration of the harvest, kind of like our thanksgiving. It was also a celebration of the gift of the laws and teachings that God gave the people through Moses, like the Ten Commandments, the laws that teach us how to live together with God and with each other.

Well, at the Pentecost festival in Jerusalem there were people gathered and celebrating who had come from far away, from Jewish communities all over the world. On that day, Jesus’ disciples were gathered together, probably to worship and pray, when all of a sudden something strange and wonderful happened. There was a sound, a noise from heaven like the sound of a mighty wind! It filled the house where they were meeting. Then they saw what looked like flames of fire moving in all directions, and a flame settled on each person there. This was God’s Holy Spirit coming to the people, just like Jesus had promised. He said he’d send them the Spirit to be with them always after he was gone.

It’s interesting that the Holy Spirit came like wind and fire. At the very beginning of the Bible where we read about God creating the world, it says "the Spirit of God moved over the water." But some Bibles say "a wind from God swept over the waters." Still others say, "the breath of God moved over the water." Why the different words? Spirit, wind, breath? Well, in both of the original languages of the Bible, the Hebrew and the Greek, the word for Spirit, wind, and breath are the same. And in the Pentecost story we read about the sound of a mighty wind, and it’s the Holy Spirit coming.

What about the fire? Well, in the story of the Exodus, of God’s people being set free from slavery, we read that they traveled and camped in the wilderness for 40 years before the arrived in the land God promised them. And while they traveled and camped God showed them that he was with them by appearing as a pillar of cloud during the day and a pillar of fire during the night. That’s what the Holy Spirit is for us, the presence of God with us always. So in the Pentecost story we read about flames of fire settling on each person, that’s the Holy Spirit coming to them.

There was something else that happened on that Pentecost day. All of a sudden, the disciples had courage and received the ability to share the news of God’s love with all who were there. And there were people from all over the world there for the celebration and they all heard the message in their own languages. The Holy Spirit might not make us speak other languages, but the Holy Spirit does give us the power to share God’s love with others.

We believe that the Holy Spirit comes to us in baptism. When I baptize someone, besides pouring water on them do you remember what else I do? I put my hands on their head and pray for the Holy Spirit to be with them, then I dip my thumb in oil and mark a cross on their forehead as a sign that God is with them.

So, instead of us saying a prayer together, I’m going to have you line up on your way down to Sunday School and I’ll place my hand on your head, say a prayer of blessing, and mark a cross on your forehead as a reminder and sign that God is always with you, just like God’s word promises in baptism.

Child of God, you have been marked with the cross + of Christ forever, and sealed by the Holy Spirit, you have the power to share God’s love with the rest of the world. Amen

Monday, May 25, 2009

Confirmation Sunday

Yesterday we had Confirmation Sunday in our church. Four young women and one young man made an affirmation of their baptism in our worship service. One of the young women was my daughter #2. She had been so excited in the time leading up to the day.

Maybe a little because of the presents she'd be receiving.
Maybe a little because grandparents and aunts and uncles were going to be there.
Maybe a little because we were going for a special lunch in a private room at the County Club.
Maybe a little because it was a special day focused on her (and her fellow confirmands, but for her family it was focused on her).
Maybe a little because the day before confirmation she was using the gift certificate she got on her birthday to get a haircut and manicure.
Maybe a little because there are no more confirmation classes.

I hope a little because she is a young woman of faith and this meant something to her.

I got choked up as I read the verse that I chose for her (1 Corinthians 13:13) and as I laid my hands on her head to pray the blessing.

I liked these five kids. I don't always like teaching confirmation classes but I like hanging out with the kids. Unfortunately and sadly I think that I'll rarely, maybe never, see three of the five kids in church anymore.

It was a really nice day. It was a really nice service. I'm proud of all of my kids, and yesterday I was especially proud of my daughter.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Ascension of Our Lord

Today is the festival of the Ascension of Our Lord. This evening at church we're having a pot-luck supper, followed by a worship service of Holy Communion, after which we'll be going down to the park by the lake and flying kites so that we can "gaze up toward heaven" (Acts 1.10).

The Ascension of Our Lord is a fairly new festival for me. The church I grew up in didn't observe this festival. I remember my mother going to worship at one of the other Lutheran churches in the same city that had an Ascension service every year during the day.

When I came here as pastor, nearly 7 years ago, I started having an Ascension Day service on the Thursday evening 40 days after Easter. We didn't get a huge crowd. The choir was there because we'd practice after worship. Then a few years ago we started having a pot-luck before the service which boosted our numbers somewhat.

But I think it's also a difficult festival to understand. We're modern now and we have a hard time believing some story about Jesus being lifted up by a cloud into some heaven "up there." The Hubble telescope was repaired this week by a space shuttle crew. They say now it will work better than when it was brand new. But I don't think it's going to find heaven hidden behind some planet or star, or in some undiscovered galaxy, or through some black hole.

So what do we do with the Ascension of Our Lord? I think what we do with it, is what the two men in white robes suggested. They said, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven" (Acts 1.11). They didn't tell the disciples what they should be doing, but I think they told them what they shouldn't be doing.

Don't waste your time staring off into space. Don't waste your time thinking there's something better to be found somewhere out there, up, up and away from here. What Jesus said, just before he ascended, was "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Acts 1.8).

There's a saying about being too heavenly minded to be any earthly good. It's one of those sayings that's a little too cute and trite for my liking. But I think there's some truth to it, especially on Ascension Day. Don't stare off into space. Get to work spreading the good news and working to make our world a better place. Get to work making yourself and the world the person and the place God intended.

Maybe we look up and away, somewhere out there, because everything and everyone down here is so messed up. But this is the world we've been given, and we are the people God has tasked with caring for each messed up other and this messed up world. The good news is that we're not really left alone to do it. We have each other, and in our midst is the promised Holy Spirit who enables us to be the witnesses and stewards that Jesus wants us to be.

Happy Ascension Day

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Astonishing

I just came across a little book that we read in our Intro. Church History course in seminary. It's The Astonished Heart: Reclaiming the Good News from the Lost-and-Found of Church History by Robert Farrar Capon. It contains one of my favourite quotes. It's actually a whole paragraph so here it is.


To begin with, Christianity is not a religion; it's the proclamation of the end of religion. Religion is a human activity dedicated to the job of reconciling God to humanity and humanity to itself. The Gospel, however—the Good News of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ—is the astonishing announcement that God has done the whole work of reconciliation without a scrap of human assistance. It is the bizarre proclamation that religion is over, period. All the efforts of the human race to straighten up the mess of history by plausible religious devices—all the chicken sacrifices, all the fasts, all the mysticism, all the moral exhortations, all the threats—have been canceled by God for lack of saving interest. More astonishingly still, their purpose has been fulfilled, once for all and free for nothing, by the totally non-religious death and resurrection of a Galilean nobody. Admittedly, Christians may use the forms of religion—but only because the church is the sign to the world of God's accomplishment of what religion tried (and failed) to do, not because any of the church's devices can actually get the job done. The church, therefore, must always be on its guard against giving the impression that its rites, ceremonies, and requirements have any religious efficacy in and of themselves. All such things are simply sacraments—real presences under particular signs—of the indiscriminate gift of grace that God in Christ has given everybody.

Friday, May 01, 2009

Good Shepherd Sunday

Here's my sermon for this Sunday.

Fourth Sunday of Easter
May 3, 2009
John 10.11-18
Thomas Arth


In this age of email,
every so often you receive messages
that are forwarded from one person to another to another
and they make the rounds through vast networks
of friends, family, and acquaintances.
Sometimes you have to be careful
because the things being sent sound believable
when in actual fact they are fabrications or hoaxes.
At other times the stories that are sent around
contain the basics of a true story but then
there are embellishments and additions that distort the truth.
A lot of these stories can be like urban myths,
and sometimes you read,
"I heard this from a friend of a friend of my cousin's husband,
so it must be true."

Well, one of these forwarded emails that I've seen a few times
has to do with an interview with Anne Graham Lotz,
the daughter of the well-known evangelist Billy Graham.
I did some research to find the actual truth to the story,
without any embellishment
and this is what I found.

The interview took place on CBS's "The Early Show"
on Thursday, September 13, 2001, 2 days after the terrorist attacks
on the World Trade Center in New York.
Jane Clayson, conducted the interview with Anne Graham Lotz.

According to the transcript of the broadcast, Clayson asked,
"I've heard people say,
those who are religious, those who are not,
if God is good, how could God let this happen?
To that, you say?"

Lotz replied,
"I say God is also angry when he sees something like this.
I would say also for several years now Americans in a sense
have shaken their fist at God and said,
‘God, we want you out of our schools, our government,
our business, we want you out of our marketplace.'
And God, who is a gentleman,
has just quietly backed out of our national and political life,
our public life.
Removing his hand of blessing and protection.
We need to turn to God first of all and say,
‘God, we're sorry we have treated you this way
and we invite you now to come into our national life.
We put our trust in you.'
We have our trust in God on our coins, we need to practice it."

That's what was actually said,
but as the email made the rounds
some things were changed and some things were added,
the basics were still there.
And a lot of people have taken Mrs. Graham Lotz's words to heart,
thinking "Maybe she was right."
We've said, you can't pray or talk about God in the schools,
or in congress or parliament, or in public life in general
so maybe this is what happens
when we don't want God in our lives,
God steps back and says, "Okay, I'm outta here."
So this email comes across your computer screen and you think,
"You know, I think she's got something here!"
and you send it to your friends who send it to their friends,
and so on, and so on.

But is that what God is really like?
As Christians we believe that the best picture we have
of what God is really like
comes through Jesus.
And in today's gospel reading we hear Jesus say,
"I am the good shepherd.
The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.
The hired hand,
who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep,
sees the wolf coming
and leaves the sheep and runs away."
So how does Jesus portray himself, portray God?
Is he the supposed gentleman who quietly backs out of our lives,
removing his hand of blessing and protection?
That sounds more like the hired hand.
Jesus makes a very clear contrast
between the good shepherd and the hired hand.

I've said before,
that we don't know much about sheep and shepherds around here.
As I travel around the countryside
I don't often see flocks of sheep.
Oh, there's the warm and wonderful wool farm out in Wellandport
and there are some Alpaca farms in the area,
but neither of these require shepherds.
When I was in Jordan and Israel a year-and-a-half ago
we would drive through what looked like totally inhospitable land
and now and then you'd see bedouin camps.
Their tents didn't look anything like what we'd call a tent.
They seemed to be long, rectangular structures
covered by big brown blankets.
There might be a small pick-up truck parked nearby,
maybe a camel or two,
and there were almost always flocks of sheep and/or goats around.
It was hard to see what they might have grazed on.
In a lot of places the countryside
looked like nothing but sand and dust and rocks.
But those bedouins were shepherds.
And their livelihood depended on them finding pasture land
and still waters,
to safely guide them along right pathways.
Another thing I saw here and there in the Middle East were dogs,
stray dogs.
I don't know what breed these dogs were.
You'd probably have to go a long way back in their family tree
to find any dog that resembled any breed
that would be recognized by a kennel club.
The dogs I saw were usually lying lazily in some shade to beat the heat.
But I'd expect in the cool of the evening of night
they could be pretty dangerous to a flock of sheep.
This would be a time and a situation
where you wouldn't want the shepherd to act like a gentleman
and quietly back out of the lives of the sheep. \
If you're one of those sheep,
you want a good shepherd who will keep you safe.

That still begs the question,
where was the protection of the good shepherd
on September 11, 2001 in New York City,
or on Boxing Day, 2004 when the tsunami killed so many
and caused such destruction along the Indian Ocean coast,
or on August 29, 2005
when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans and the Gulf Coast,
or last month when an earthquake hit L'Aquila, Italy?
It's a question that's really hard to answer.
People will try to answer
and their answers might satisfy some hearts and minds,
but not others.
I may have told the story before,
about when I was a seminary student
taking my Clinical Pastoral Education course
and serving as a hospital chaplain.
I was on call one weekend, and my pager went off.
I was called to the ICU at Hamilton General Hospital.
The night before, the car that three teens were driving in
was hit by a driver who ran through a stop sign.
Two of the teens were killed
and the third was lying in a bed paralyzed.
I came into that young man's room, scared to death,
and he asked me "Why did this happen?"
What can you possibly say to that?
What kind of answer can you give?
Do you tell the kid
that we're not allowed to pray in our schools anymore,
that people don't go to church much anymore,
that we've put God out of our lives so much
that God has quietly backed out of our lives
and removed his hand of blessing and protection?
Sorry, but that's not the picture of God
that I find in my reading of the Bible.
What do you say to that kid?
Well, I'll tell you what I said.
When he asked, "Why did this happen?"
I said, "I don't know."

So where was God?
I hope God was with a nervous and frightened young chaplain
who didn't have any answers but came anyway
to try to provide some comfort
to a hurting boy and his family.
Where was God?
God was cradling the boy and girl who were killed in that crash.
Where was God?
God was with the nurse who called me and said,
"These people really need someone right now."

Bob Kelly, one of my professors at Seminary wrote:
"Genocide and starvation!
Nuclear destruction!
Poison and pollution!
Is it any wonder that people ask, ‘Where is God?
Why does God not act?
Why does God not end the slaughter and destruction?
Where can God possibly be?'
The Gospel is that God answers our question in a still, small voice:
‘Here I am, dying on this cross.'
"God's own response to all our sound and fury
is to remain the crucified God.
The crucified God is not a god who can be called upon
to bless economic systems, Christian schools,
military forces, or political powers.
The crucified God is the God who died at the hands of the Romans,
in the gas chambers of Auschwitz,
under the bomb at Hiroshima,
of starvation and AIDS in the Sub-Sahara,
in the streets of El Salvador,
in the deserts of Iraq and Afghanistan—
and the God who lives now as Lord
and will put an end to all gas chambers, all bombs,
all hunger, all death squads.
The crucified God does not try to explain our evil;
the crucified God suffers and dies as a victim of our evil,
and precisely in suffering and dying overcomes evil."

We may not know much about shepherds and sheep.
But I think we can imagine, pretty well,
what a good shepherd is like.
A good shepherd doesn't back out of our lives
and leave us to ourselves.
The Good Shepherd leaves 99 sheep who are safe
and relentlessly pursues the one that is lost.
A good shepherd doesn't remove his hand of blessing and protection
or pout because we've treated him badly.
The Good Shepherd shows the extent of his love
by laying down his life for the sheep.
The Good Shepherd shepherds us
"beyond our wants, beyond our fears, from death into life."
May we live in faith,
trusting in the presence and the love of the Lord Jesus Christ,
our Good Shepherd.
Amen

...about Organized Religion

I wrote the following for today's local paper, the InPort News.


I recently got back in touch with an old university friend who I'd lost touch with for 20 years. I was not always a pastor. I got to know this friend when we were studying Civil Engineering, which was my line of work before becoming a pastor. We exchanged long emails telling about our lives and families and work and what we've been up to over the past 20 years. He remembered that I was a church-goer but was a little surprised that I was not a pastor. One comment in his email was that he "had problems with organized religion" and something about the hypocrisy he so often sees among religious people.

I know that church and religion aren't everybody's thing and I'm okay with that. But my friend's comment got me thinking about the term "organized religion" and the way it's often used. I could always come back with the joke that says "If you knew my church you'd find out we're not that organized" but I know that's not what people are getting at when they use that phrase. I've always been a part of "organized religion" so I don't know exactly what they are getting at.

Some may be atheists who have, or claim to have, absolutely no faith in God. Some may be agnostic, who aren't sure about faith and God, but can't or don't want to find answers in a church. Some might claim that they can't find God in church, in "organized religion," and that religious experience can be better found communing with nature. Some may think that religion is the cause of too much strife in the world (and they may have a valid point). Some will say that you can be a good person without belonging to a church. I'm sure you can. And some will have a problem with hypocrisy among religious people, those who don't practice what they preach.

There are likely many more reasons why people have a problem with "organized religion." That list is just some of the reasons that I thought of off the top of my head. Now, the hypocrisy thing, I get that. The church and the Bible call people to live a certain way and to act a certain way toward others and the world, the whole "golden rule" thing, and we're not always that good at following through. But there's more to our religion and our faith than following rules.

One of the phrases that comes out of my Lutheran tradition is a Latin phrase that says Christians are simul iustus et peccator. It means we are simultaneously righteous and sinful. Being a Christian or belonging to a church or even trying really hard to be good doesn't make you perfect. Being sinful is part of being human. Being righteous is part of being saved. And that's what the church, what "organized religion" is about. We're not perfect. I don't think any church would claim that they are.

There are plenty of social service clubs that do a lot of the same things that churches do, maybe even do them better than churches. They might offer support groups, soup kitchens, services to the elderly, food pantries, counseling hot lines, etc. But what the community of believers provides that those other agencies can't replace is called salvation.

We gather on a Sunday morning, to hear God's word of love for all, the promise of forgiveness of sins, encouragement to live a righteous life. We gather to meet a God who has promised to be there. We pray together for the church, the world, and all in need. We sing together, whether we're any good or not. We share a ritual meal in which God promises to come to us with love and forgiveness. We gather with others to give each other love and support and fellowship and together we work to spread the good news of God's love in Jesus Christ and to do what we can to make our world a better place. And every one receives a blessing, just for showing up.

That's what "organized religion," at least in the Christian tradition to which I belong, ought to be about. As I said, we're not perfect and we don't always live up to the standards others set for us or that we set for ourselves. But as a community of faith we encounter God together and we work together, support, and encourage one another as we muddle through and struggle along in this life.