Sermonating Haiku

saturday evening
writing tomorrow's sermon
come Holy Spirit

newsletter article

As I was preparing to write a column for my congregational newsletter, I reread what I had written last month. I figure it couldn't hurt to post it here as well, so here you go:

I was sitting the other day in the fellowship hall. It was the middle of the week. There were some young children, maybe part of a preschool family, who were running around the room. Three of these, who were preschool-aged, were running around in circles, more-or-less keeping up with each other. They were laughing and talking with each other, and the joy in their play was (to me) contagious. There was a fourth young child, a bit younger than the others. The three were all old enough to run with confidence. Their younger playmate, though, was old enough to be steady on his feet walking, but hadn’t figured out how to run much faster than he walked quite yet.

As they played, I saw the one chasing after the three. He was trying to run like they were, laughing like they were, jumping when they jumped, playing the game they played. I remember my own children doing the same thing. Young children look up to, and imitate, the older children ~ it’s how we all learn how to act in our society. And that day in the fellowship hall, the youngest one had three good examples to emulate.

Young people look to their elders to learn how to deal with the world. Once they get to be teenagers, they won’t always admit it, but young people look to their elders to learn how to make it in life. We learn by paying attention to those who we spend time around ~ we learn how to eat, how to manage time and money, how to treat people we love and how to treat people who are different.

Young people learn these things whether or not we’re trying to teach them. The three kids knew the fourth was there, but they weren’t trying to teach him the game. They were doing what they were doing with very little regard to the other child. But despite their inattention to him, he was paying close attention.

The young people at Holy Love pay attention to you. They pay attention to how you live your faith. They pay attention to how we welcome and treat strangers and those who are different from us. They pay attention when we try to teach them, and when we have no reason to notice them. They pay attention when it looks like they’re completely engaged with something else.

The other day I was in a large room having a conversation with an adult. Across the way was an elementary school aged young person. The student had earphones plugged in while reading a book with great interest, turning pages regularly as she made her way through the text. It wasn’t long before she offered her perspective. Surprisingly, her insight wasn’t on our clothing, our choice of cell phone, or even the book she was reading. The insight she offered was directly related to the topic of our conversation, and she offered a perspective we hadn’t yet thought of or brought up. This surprised us both, because by all appearances she was completely checked-out and in her own world. They pay attention, they emulate what we do, and they know when we take them seriously.

This summer, you will have the opportunity to share your faith intentionally with young people as our congregation gathers on a few summer Wednesday evenings for some faith-building activities. And when you show up, I can almost guarantee that not only will your own faith grow, but you’ll be surprised by the faith that God has given to the young people who are part of our congregation.

For what it's worth.

Evening Commute

I commute to work by bicycle from time to time ~ maybe once a week in the summer, and on occasion through the rest of the year. The days I don't go into the office, reading and writing days, I'm often around the nearby area of town on my bike, but that only sort-of counts.

The ride from home to the church office isn't too long, but it's long enough that I have to take it seriously. Commuting by bike instead of car adds about 30 minutes to the trip each way, but removes the need to go to the gym or for a run that day. It's basically a wash, timewise. I have to be certain that I don't need to go anywhere too far from the office through the day (commuting by bike around the suburbs can be challenging), but if I need to be at the office all day, it's nice to be able to cycle to work.

I especially like riding to work on days when I need to stay into the evening. Riding home in the cool of a summer evening, especially after a long day (or a church council meeting, which can potentially make for a long day all by itself), is a perfect way to transition. Last night, the cool of the air along with a sky so clear that the entire moon was almost perfectly visible even though it was only a crescent was phenomenal to experience. And aside from only a few other cyclists, a couple holding hands who were surprised by my approach, and a city bus that didn't bother looking to see me coming down the road, the journey home was clear and unobstructed.

In the middle of the ride last night, I was reminded of the first time I took nighttime rides through the city. I was just out of college, that summer before moving away from Texas, and I was doing graveyard shift temp work in a factory. Some nights I had work, some nights they didn't need me. I wanted to sleep, but there was no way that was going to happen, since after getting off at 7 am, I'd slept 'til almost 2 in the afternoon (that's when the pick-up basketball games usually started).

With nothing on tv worth watching, no way to sleep, and nothing better to do, I set off on my bike toward downtown. What I discovered was streets crowded through the day virtually empty at night, cool air after triple digit daytime temps, and ease of movement on mostly smooth streets. I discovered a new kind of freedom that I hadn't been aware of before, and when I met another guy on a bicycle, I knew that other people had discovered the same thing before I did.

And last night, on the way home from council, I felt the same freedom I remember from that summer. It was nice ~ maybe I'll commute by bicycle today as well.

Urban Oracle

his vision obscured by hair
inches long, as mustaches
above each eye, brows
not furrowed, serene

iconic, idle on the
corner, the rest of
his face obscured by
a beard, wild and thick

he sits, mythologically still
waiting to dispense
oracular wisdom to all seekers
who come by Eighth and Downing

Sermon for Proper 6, June 13

Maybe I'm adopting a different style of sermon-writing, but this is two weeks in a row that I've written an almost-manuscript sermon ~ so I might as well post it for the three of you who might be interested.

With the recognition that a sermon is not the written word but what happens in the midst of the interaction between preacher and community, and with apologies because the line breaks and indents from my word processing document that help what's written make better sense don't translate into this blogging software, here's last Sunday's sermon.

The Gospel text was Luke 7:36-8:3

We all do it ~ it’s how we make sense of the world
we put people into categories
we label each other, often based on those many factors
that aren’t even essential to who we are
it starts early
I remember the distinct groups in high school
jocks, kickers, stoners, smart kids
and the group I fit in, band nerds
but it starts earlier than that ~ we were already starting to segregate ourselves in middle school
if nothing else, there were the cool kids, and the not-cool kids
and it started earlier than that ~ there were even distinct groups in the very earliest grades
which were probably based on where we lived,
and where we went swimming ~ country club, stock pond, or not at all

but it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it, for us to categorize one another
and to categorize ourselves
it’s how we make sense of the world,
it’s how we know where we belong

So we’re not completely surprised
when Simon labels this woman immediately after she enters his house
he’s categorizing her, based on what, the text doesn’t say
maybe it’s the way she’s dressed
maybe it’s the way she acts
maybe he knows her in a different context

but Simon judges her, judges her a sinner
and judges Jesus by his association with this sinner
and the judgment, at least in part, is probably accurate
consider that Simon is a Pharisee,
one of that group who is particularly concerned with keeping the law
and in this brief encounter,
Jesus has allowed himself to become ritually unclean
he allows this woman, to whom he’s not married, to touch him ~ that’s generally frowned upon in his context
and beyond that, she’s probably works in the sex industry
(that’s how Simon could identify her so easily ~ she very well could be a prostitute)

so now, to Simon (and probably the others around the table)
the woman, who is an unclean sinner,
has just made Jesus unclean, too
and Simon has something to say about it, even if it is under his breath

Simon is just like the rest of us
as soon as he sees her, he categorizes her
and as soon as he categorizes her, he judges her
we all do the same thing, none of us is exempt
remember, this is one way we make sense of the world
one way we find the place where we belong
by categorizing ourselves over against others

Simon immediately judges her, without recognizing
that Jesus seems to have already judged her … as forgiven
without boring you too much with greek
the verb for his forgiveness of her
tells us that it happened in the past
and that the effects of the forgiveness continue in the present
her sins have been forgiven … already,
not based on tears and perfume
it looks like she was forgiven before she ever came into the house


we have to be careful here,
because forgiveness can be dangerous business
forgiveness upends the world, throws everything out of kilter
at least out of the kilter that we’re comfortable with

see, we don’t usually want forgiveness
well, we want forgiveness for ourselves
we want to be forgiven for our sins, probably because they’re not really that bad anyway
we’re not like them,
those other people whose sins are much worse than ours

we tend to want mercy for ourselves and justice for others
that we don’t seem to see our own shortcomings

we’ll condemn immigrants coming across the border without documents,
looking for a better life like our ancestors did
while we complain if the price of produce rises too much

we call for justice for the oil executives,
but fail to recognize that our demand for cheap gasoline to fuel our cars makes us complicit in the gulf oil spill

we tend to want forgiveness for ourselves
while we look for justice for other people

When we see those others, them, the ones who are sinners
or at least who are worse sinners than we are
when we see them receive forgiveness
it throws us for a loop

what did they do to deserve forgiveness?
why do they receive what rightfully ought to be mine?
they’re not in the same group as I am ~ they shouldn’t get what I get …

we only tend to want the kind of justice that we ourselves have no need of
we only want justice for other people
saving mercy and forgiveness for ourselves


radical forgiveness, the kind Jesus shows us, upends our world
forgiveness is destabilizing
forgiveness destroys our categories, breaks down the borders between us and them
and that’s problematic,
because we need our categories to make sense of the world


yet where we long for judgment and justice
for those who are so deserving,
God speaks a different word

Our justice and our judgment are on a collision course
with God’s mercy and forgiveness
and forgiveness wins

In contrast to Simon’s judgment of her as a sinner
Jesus has already judged her as forgiven
and she knows it
she knows it not just in her head, but in the depths of her being
she knows she is a sinner, and that she is forgiven,
and this is the story of her response,
her gratitude, her thankfulness

what Jesus seems to have done is to create a new category
forgiven child of God
this is how God makes sense of the world
this is where she, and we find a place to belong
alongside the other sinners
hearing God’s word to you and to me
God’s word of forgiveness and mercy
spoken into the midst of our community
and into the depths of our being

this, people of God
here, in the body of Christ, is where we belong
and this baptismal belonging is becoming
the very essence of everything we are.

Amen

$0.02

getting away

his language is choppy, limited
he's hard to understand
asking with hampered vocabulary
for a little bread, maybe
some milk ~ 'I've lost work' he shares ...
again ... with russian accent.
'is there coffee, donuts, something for
my kids to eat?'
and I share what we have, eager
that he leave soon.

¿quieren comida? I ask when my
Ameri-english doesn't work
¿cuantas personas? I wonder aloud
7 people + 5 gets an extra bag
they leave thankful, and they leave
quickly, to my relief.

pushed down by the edges of life even
before the car wreck,
he can't help but to work the angles -
he has to con me, even
when I offer a free room for the night.
is it a free offer,
or just an offer to free myself from
his overbearing insistence
on getting as much as he thinks he can,
no longer considering his need?

shooing out the russian
sending the mexican moms away quickly
getting the con man out of my
personal space right now

am I trying to escape from Jesus?

Christians Standing in the Garage

There's a group on Facebook (you know Facebook, that colossal sinkhole where I waste too much of my time) that quite a few of my facebook-friends have facebook-liked in recent days. The title is something like "Going to Church doesn't make you a Christian any more than Standing in the Garage makes you a Car".

Long before facebook, I'd heard this saying, and I certainly understand the logic behind it ~ heck, I even laughed about it from my professional-church-person perspective. But I think the analogy only goes so far, and if it's taken to its logical end, it breaks down.

The underlying assumption is that a garage is where you can find a car, and that church is where you find a Christian. Without even considering my garage (where no one has found a car for at least 18 months), we can probably clearly recognize that the basic makeup of a car is and always will be different from the basic makeup of a human. A car is, essentially, a compartment where people sit, which is supported by wheels. These wheels are connected to a drive train and an engine which powers the drive train. One of the occupants of the car has access to mechanisms which control the velocity and trajectory of the car. A person, standing in a garage or not, will never possess these qualities.

The other side of the analogy, then (whether going to church makes a person a Christian or not), causes me to wonder about the basic makeup of a Christian. What are the qualities that a person would possess which would make them Christian, and where do they come from?

Some people who regularly show up for worship probably don't lead exemplary Christian lives. Maybe for the rest of the week, they abuse other family members. Maybe they practice usury. Maybe they have taken G-d's name in vain. Maybe they haven't sold all their possessions and given the money to the poor. Do these things mean they're not Christian?

This brings up a few questions for me. What does it mean to be a Christian? Is being a Christian predicated on behavior? Is being a Christian about following the rules?

If being Christian is about following the rules, about practicing the right behavior, then we're all in a world of hurt. We've come to realize over the centuries that none of us can follow all of the rules perfectly. If being a Christian is about following the rules, then of course we don't need to go to church in order to be a Christian. We can follow rules as well outside of church as well as we can when we show up.

If being a Christian is about following the rules, then G-d's grace which we see through Christ on the cross is for nothing.

So, if being Christian is not about following the rules (as important as they are), then what's it all about? I would argue that the Christian life is about recognizing G-d's grace (which we can never escape), about following Christ more closely every day (responding to G-d's grace), and about discipleship (our own and others' discipleship). These things we cannot do without community. We cannot recognize G-d's grace without the community to show us G-d's grace. We cannot respond to G-d's grace without a community in which we can practice our response. We cannot become disciples without people of faith who mentor us, and without others for whom we are mentor. We cannot be Christian without the church.

Recognizing and responding to G-d's grace, becoming disciples ~ these things, necessarily, must happen in community. In fact, where the Gospel is preached and the sacraments are administered, I believe these things will happen. And where those things are happening, people who participate in the community will become Christians. They won't become perfect people, they won't become exact rule followers, but we will together become closer disciples of the living G-d ~ and isn't that what the Christian life is?

Will standing in a garage make you a car? No. Will going to church, and participating in the faith life of the community of believers, make you a Christian? Absolutely ~ it can't happen any other way.

$0.02