In preparing for any homily I start out by reading through all of the readings for that day. On Monday, when I read through the Scriptures (Advent 2: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12), what stood out to me was the action and the language. The Old Testament reading with it’s images of lions, lambs, wolves and bears struck me with all its strange images of animals acting contrary to their natures. In the Gospel reading I was struck by its almost apocalyptic language - firey baptisms and the Messiah waving his winnowing fork and clearing things out and all that unquenchable fire. Scary stuff!
Tuesday I read the lessons again and nothing came. Wednesday, same thing.
But at lunch on Thursday I was sitting at the Dockside Restaurant downtown, and somewhere between a drinking some coffee and a having couple spoonfuls of soup, it occurred to me that anytime when dealing with Scripture it’s easy to get hung up on the language. And it’s really easy this time of year to get hung up on the action. The stories themselves get almost get in the way of our understanding.
We’re now on a countdown to Christmas, after which we sort of even out and end up at Lent. Then we start another countdown to Easter and, then, Pentecost. We gauge our progress towards these events by the action, the plot - where we are in the story. And we camp out in these stories because we like them so much. We associate many childhood memories with them. They give us emotional, warm fuzzies inside.
Sitting there in the restaurant, what Sophie (our affectionate term for the Holy Spirit) said to me was, “You have got to get past the stories, past the action. You've got to get past the what, where, and the when and get to the WHO because that where you are going to find what I have to tell you.”
Today’s Gospel starts, “In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea…” The Gospel of Mark is similar. Luke gives a little more detail. He records Zechariah’s prophecy about John, that he would have “the spirit and power of Elijah,” meaning John would be a prophet like Elijah. And he goes on to say of John, “The child grew up strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day he appeared publicly in Israel.” That means he spent thirty years there before he preached his message of repentance and baptism. John's Gospel reports another detail. Those Jewish leaders who went out to where he was baptizing even asked him if he was the prophet Elijah come back. He told them, “I am the voice of one crying the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord.”
And what about this Elijah, the predecessor of John? God sent him to the wadi Cherith and there was a terrible drought, and then God sent him to Zaraphath and the drought was there, too. Three years of drought. I got online and looked up Cherith because I wanted to know where it was on the map and got a search result for a video. On the video a young man was reading Bible passages about the Prophet Elijah on location from Cherith. He was standing there holding his Bible and behind him was the most dry and desolate desert I think I have ever seen, and that was Cherith.
Our New Testament reading today was written by the Apostle Paul. What about him? We all know the story of his conversion on the road to Damascus, but we have to go clear to his letter to the church at Galatia (Galatians 1:17-18) to find out what happened after that. He says, “I went away at once into Arabia" (i.e., the desert). At some point he returned to Damascus. Then he says it was three years before he went up to Jerusalem where he had his historic meeting with Peter. Many scholars think and some traditions have it that Paul spent those three years in the desert receiving instruction from the Lord.
The desert. This going into the desert seems to be the thing that ties all these characters in our readings together today. The common denominator. And need I point out the obvious example? Even Jesus, just as soon as he was baptized by John, went into the desert.
What is it about the desert?
I continued thinking about this as I was finishing my lunch. Just as I was deciding to let it go and think about it later, it came to me. Sophie said, “There it is! This is what I want you to know. To get to the heart of Advent. To get the most out of this season you have got to be like these guys you've been reading about. They really wanted to know and to see God. They wanted to know what he wanted for them and they wanted to serve him. They wanted to be filled with his Presence. They desired and got this intimate friendship with God that brings understanding. And to do it they had to go where where it was necessary to get it. And so do you.”
This is the insight I received, and it’s my job to give it to you. So, here goes.
Now, about the desert. I am not advocating that to know God you have to go to some literal desert. You do not need to go home today and announce to your family that you won't be spending the holiday with them because you've bought yourself a ticket to Death Valley. Or the Gobi. Or the Kalahari. But I am here to tell you that if you want what those apostles and prophets who went to the desert wanted and got, an intimate relationship with God; or if you want, at the very least, to be able to understand these stories we’re so fond of this time of year and to be able to hear what God wants you to get out out of them, (and God must want us to get something out of them because our New Testament reading today says that everything in Scripture was written for our instruction), then we have got to go there, too.
We have got to go to a place where the layers that we are wrapped up in are pealed away – our materialism, our holiday greed and overconsumption, our self-centeredness, our hate, malice, frustration and angst. All the masks we wear. All the body armor. You know, the attitudes we project to show the world how good we’re doing when maybe we’re not, and all this emotional baggage we carry around all the time. And especially at this time of year, we carry it around even more. I'm sure we all have at least one family member who melts down during the holidays because they have issues. I'm not sure if we are carrying around more baggage at this time of year or if we are carrying all the really sensitive stuff on top like an overcoat. But to get past all this stuff that burdens us and prevents us from seeing clearly and have a meaningful Advent and Christmas, we have got to retreat to a place where we can no longer hide behind or be buried under these things. We are not going to see clearly until we get all the stuff off us, and see ourselves clearly. It’s like not being able to see the forest for the trees. There’s just too much stuff. And once stuff is cleared away there’s always a better view. And when we have a better view we have better understanding and we can get the most from this Advent or any season. We have to go to our own desert. Not the literal one, the interior one. That’s why we hear that Advent is a reflective season…It's because we turn inward. We turn inward to get to the heart of matters.
I had a conversation with Fr. Gary the other day in which he pointed out to me that Anglican teachings on Advent often include the first and second comings of Christ, whereas in his Lutheran tradition, the take is a little different in that they often include a third coming, Christ in the Eucharist. But today, I’m thinking there is a fourth coming. That’s almost a pun. "Advent - Forthcoming."
“Christ is formed in your HEARTS by faith”. We all know this verse but, most of the time we hear it read with the emphasis on the word "faith." For today, we are going to place the emphasis on the word "hearts" because that is where Christ is to be found. In this deep interior place in your being, your heart of hearts - what the desert mothers and fathers of the first centuries of the Church knew. They went to the literal desert to get themselves to a place where they would not be distracted so they could get to their interior deserts.
At times it is not pretty there, in our hearts - our interior deserts - because that’s where we hold all of our secret thoughts and unrealized dreams. Our fears and insecurities. Our disappointments and feelings of worthlessness and rejection. But we have got to go there because that’s where Christ is - in our hearts. That place where God has placed that deposit of his life substance within us, the Holy Spirit, so that we never have to be alone or filled with fear or feelings of worthlessness again. It's one of those spiritual paradoxes - the place where we are hiding away all of this unsightly, personal baggage that gets in the way of our understanding is right where God pitches his tent and decides to live with us.
These prophets and apostles we’ve just been talking about – John, Elijah, Paul - God may have illustrated his point by having them go to literal deserts and have the scripture writers tell about it, so we could be instructed by it. They went there physically, but you can bet they also went to that interior desert – that place deep inside themselves where they communed with God, learned from him and gained understanding because they came out changed men.
This interior desert, this desert of the heart, calls each of us. Elijah went there and he was changed. John the Baptist grew up there and look what was he to do and be for God. And Paul. He did a complete turn around. He went from being the premier persecutor of Christians to the premier Christian himself, with such an understanding of the things of God that his writings make up most of the New Testament and he teachings continue to instruct men more than two thousand years later. Can't get much more change than that.
I, too, go to the desert. And I sure can testify that my desert is not pretty at times. But I can say, with a certainty, that it has changed me. Is changing me from day to day, for the better, the more time I spend there. This Advent, this reflective season, I promise you, if you go there, to your interior desert and meet the One who dwells there, the One who promises to be with you and give you understanding, it will change you too. Amen.
(Preached at Christ Episcopal Church, St. Helens, Oregon, December 5, 2010)
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
You've Got To Keep Your Eye On The Toast - Living Intentionally In The World
I once read an article in Christianity Today about how technological we have become, and how disconnected and uninvolved were are with much of what goes on around us. The article explained that in times long past, social life was centered around the hearth, and went on to point out that the Latin word for "hearth" is the same as the word for "focus". This gives a picture of life being all about the hearth and the warmth to be found there. It gives meaning to a phrase we've all heard before, "Keep the home fires burning." Picture, if you will, how labor intensive activities were that were necessary to keep the home fire burning - gathering wood or other fuel, cleaning out ashes, consciously remembering to to feed fuel into the fire so it wouldn't go out,etc., so you could keep warm and have food, since food was prepared and consumed at and around the hearth. Everyone contributed to the effort. Social life was focused around the hearth.
I am reminded of some close friends of mine who set their living room up with all the chairs facing a big wood stove on a large, raised corner hearth made of stone, rather than chairs facing the television at the other end of the room. It was always comforting to visit them because we knew that their focus would be entirely upon us and everyone gathered in that warm and cozy corner, rather than on an indifferent talking-head box at the other end of the room.
All of this makes me think how intentional all of life should be, from our most important spiritual decisions down to even the most mundane of our daily actions. Our thoughts and actions should be intentional from things as personal as acting on what we believe about God, to the time-consuming as effort of nurturing new relationships, and even down to the simplest things in life, such as making toast.
I used to collect old kitchen tools. I gave that up some years ago when it was becoming apparent that those same items that were considered "state of the art" when I was a child were coming into vogue as collectibles. It wasn't fun anymore when I realized I was beginning to be contemporary with much of what was hanging on my walls. I had visions of someday being stuffed and hung there, myself, among the old can openers and vegetable choppers, as a relic of the past. This may be a slight overstatement, but you get the picture.
I still have a special affinity for early, electric kitchen appliances. I am the owner of an "Armstrong Table Stove", a kind of early 1900s toaster oven that was supposed to do everything from poach eggs to grill steaks. The inventor must have had big city apartment dwellers in mind when inventing it. I also have an "Eskimo Kitchen Mechanic", sort of a cross between an electric milkshake maker, butter churn and an electric paint can stirrer. Those old appliances always make me smile to think strange (to us) devices must have been very innovative for their time. My favorite old kitchen appliances are those antique flap-door toasters. When I got rid of most of the old kitchen tools, I liked the toasters so much that I kept a few. I still have them and they still work!
When my husband and I got married, some 26 years ago now, we did not receive a single toaster as a wedding gift. That, in itself, was unusual, but as I was already using one of the antique toasters on a daily basis, we continued on with it. I was used to it, but my new husband wasn't. Making toast with a flap-door toaster was a very intentional process. You had to be involved in your food making, not like today where you just go through the drive-thru and get a burger, fries and a soda and don't even think about where they come from. Heck, we don't even have to ask for a burger, fries and soda anymore. Now we just ask for a meal by number.
Food preparation today is quick, easy and mindless. To make toast the old fashioned way you opened the doors on each side of the toaster, put a slice of bread in each opening and shut the doors again. But, you had to be alert. You had to be involved in the process because you had to intentionally check every thirty seconds or so to see if you were burning the toast. No button to dial to get the desired browning. No automatic eject button that popped the toast up when done, the opposite of toasters today where you put the bread in and it comes out automatically toasted to the right color and texture, and you don't have to worry that either the toast or the kitchen will catch on fire if you leave the room. It seems to me that must of the challenge of daily living has been lost. And what a loss it is!
My husband learned the hard way that you can't shave and make toast at the same time. He learned that if he went and shaved while making toast he ended up having to live with the results of his inattention. We never did burn the house down and, eventually, we sacrificed the old flap-door toaster for a more updated model that even toasts English muffins, but I still miss the old one some. I believe much has been lost as we have become less intentionally involved in the process of feeding ourselves. I do remember the major lesson learned from that old toaster.
What I learned from that toaster was this: every worthwhile thing in life comes from some intentional action or decision. In this modern, computerized, videoized, spectator-centered, social networking age, knowing this is more important than ever. Today, we are divorced and disconnected from much of what goes on around us. Television, video games, the internet - all of these are hypnotic and lock us, bodily and mentally, into some inactive, frozen state of paralysis where we are no longer participants in an active life, but are spectators. This shift in focus has crept into all facets of life, even to where we have become spectators in our own spiritual lives and in our own religious expression.
Over the years, I have seen a real shift in what goes on in many churches, which I suspect mirrors some people's private spiritual lives. We live in an age where we are entertained all day long. We are entertained by television around the clock. Most stations no longer go off the air at night. Video games have become our babysitters and a way for us to be violent and aggressive in seemingly acceptable ways. The internet has taken the place of face-to-face relationships. Now, I am not against these things. Television, computers and video games are not bad in and of themselves. What I am concerned about is how we have come to depend on these devices to entertain us with an endless stream of whatever it is they offer that stimulates our sensory organs in some endless, feel good massage. We are barraged with so much quantity that we no longer critically assess what we are taking in and have forgotten that these devices do have on-off switches and plugs that can be disconnected. We act as if it is beyond our control to control them. We forget we can turn them off. These devices are no longer just tools, but have often replaced meaningful, intentional actions and relationships. And we have come, in our times of religious expression and worship, to expect this same kind of stimulation. We expect to be entertained.
People are hungrier than ever, spiritually speaking. Most of them don't know what they are looking for. All they know is that there is an empty place deep inside, but they do not know know what's missing. They do know that things like television, video games and internet chatting makes them feel better, temporarily. But it wears off after a while and they they have to go back for another fix. I am the child of alcoholics. I understand this feeling. Of the symptoms of being an adult child of alcoholics is having the urge to shop. It's a mechanism to self-medicate, to alleviate pain. You go out and buy a bunch of stuff, most of which you don't need, because it temporarily sedates the pain of dealing with the pain of your childhood experience.
People who are spiritually hungry, but don't recognize it for what it is, act in a similar fashion. They go from church to church, from guru to guru, seminar to seminar, or switch from channel to channel, scanning religious television programming or, even worse, watching the same religious channel on television all day long without recognizing that many of the 30-minute, back-to-back programming segments are teaching conflicting theologies. They aren't listening. They just want to feel something; but, culture being what it is and because of how sensitized by it they have become, and having bought into being mindlessly entertained in lieu of intentional living, they aren't looking for spiritual truth. They are just looking for the next spiritual fix, so they can feel better. Being entertained temporarily cuts the pain of being disconnected and empty.
The dictionary defines the word "titillated" as being tickled, excited or pleasurably stimulated. That's what a lot of people expect from their church or religious experience today, to be "titillated". They want to feel good. They want music that makes them feel warm and fuzzy. They want a speaker who doesn't get too deep or says things that makes them uncomfortable. And it's a plus if the preacher can crack a joke or two. They don't want anything mentally challenging, and definitely nothing that requires involvement or a response on their part. The questions - Am I here to worship God today? What am I bringing to this gathering? What is my spiritual offering? - have been replaced by - What is the service going to do for me today? Am I going to be entertained? Am I going to be pleasurably stimulated and excited? If these are also the questions you are asking, you might as well stay home and sleep in. You don't have to go to church or some other spiritual gathering to get the same physical effect. You can have sex and get the same effect as that.
Your spiritual life is not about entertainment, and should not be approached with anything less than your total, focused intention and attention. Your relationship with God is not some virtual reality video game where you create your own entertaining reality. You can not lay in your spiritual recliner and just flip channels with the remote control until you find something about God that excites, tickles and stimulates you in a pleasurable way. God does not work that way. With God there is only one channel, and it is tuned into His unchanging Holiness and HIs intention is that we be brought into line with that. That's His will.
"Will" is the deepest desires of one's heart. It is God's will, His deepest, heart-felt desire, that we be in a vital and conscious relationship with Him. That is why He intentionally paid out the life of His Son. To fix things so we can have that relationship. What is your spiritual will? Is it your will to be brought into line with God's will? Is your spiritual life and expression intentional? Or are you mindlessly flipping channels, trying to find something that makes you feel good? Are you expecting to be titillated in every service and meeting? Are you looking for entertainment?
I can hear you asking, "Well, doesn't it just happen? I believe in God. I had this emotional altar call experience once. Wasn't that it?" The danger of this kind of thinking, where we think our emotional, born again experience is the goal, is that we go onto automatic pilot and believe that the beginning point of our Christian life is the finish line and, and there's nothing left except to be entertained because we have "arrived". As a consequence, we don't move on from there, developing and growing into spiritually mature individuals. Our growth becomes stunted because we are paralyzed and hypnotized. We stay children who want nothing more than to be titillated - tickled, excited and pleasurably stimulated.
What did Jesus say about all of this? Mark 8:34-35 in the Amplified version says it best,
"If anyone intends to come after me, let him deny himself
[forget, ignore, disown, and lose sight of himself and his
own interests] and take up his cross, and [joining Me as a
disciple and siding with My party] follow with Me [continually,
cleaving steadfastly to Me]. For whoever wants to save his
[higher, spiritual, eternal] life, will lose it [the lower,
natural, temporal life which is lived only on earth]; and
whoever gives up his life [which is lived only on earth] for
My sake and the Gospel's will save it [his higher, spiritual
life in the eternal kingdom of God].
Is this what you want instead of continuous, mindless entertainment? It can be yours. But it requires something from you. The key word in these verses I just quoted is the word "intends". The dictionary defines "intend" as:
1. to have in mind as a purpose, plan; 2. to mean something to
be used for, as destined or designated; 3. to signify. And older
meaning is "to bend, direct or turn: as they intend their thoughts.
It implies having in mind something to be done; a deliberate purpose
or design, suggesting careful planning in order to bring about
particular result and a determination to do a specified thing or
act in a specified manner, to an ultimate end or purpose."
Is your ultimate, end purpose to be entertained or to have a true, filled (with God) and fulfilled life based upon a relationship with your Creator? If all you want is to be tickled, excited or pleasurably stimulated with entertainment, just continue on with spiritual channel surfing or a spiritual life of uninvolved spectatorship. But be warned. There is a price. It is this: You will always be empty and looking for the next fix. You will never be filled and you will never be fulfilled.
If you want to grow into spiritual maturity, want to be filled and fulfilled and wish to not be on the sidelines as some spectator who has no power to do anything about anything in life but would rather be an active participant in your spiritual life, you need to have intention. This means you have to do something. You have to "turn or bend your thoughts" to a decision, as the dictionary defined it. And you have to be willing to carry it out. Every day. Jesus said to "take up your cross." This means having to turn off or unplug the wanting to be constantly titillated and entertained that is keeping you in a childish state of spiritual paralysis and you have to intentionally tune in to the only channel that God is broadcasting - Himself. It requires laying down the remote control, getting out of your spiritual recliner and going into the kitchen; and, just like my old flap-door toaster, it requires intentionally keeping your eye on the toast!
Copyright, S. Rolf-Tooley, 2002, 2010.
I am reminded of some close friends of mine who set their living room up with all the chairs facing a big wood stove on a large, raised corner hearth made of stone, rather than chairs facing the television at the other end of the room. It was always comforting to visit them because we knew that their focus would be entirely upon us and everyone gathered in that warm and cozy corner, rather than on an indifferent talking-head box at the other end of the room.
All of this makes me think how intentional all of life should be, from our most important spiritual decisions down to even the most mundane of our daily actions. Our thoughts and actions should be intentional from things as personal as acting on what we believe about God, to the time-consuming as effort of nurturing new relationships, and even down to the simplest things in life, such as making toast.
I used to collect old kitchen tools. I gave that up some years ago when it was becoming apparent that those same items that were considered "state of the art" when I was a child were coming into vogue as collectibles. It wasn't fun anymore when I realized I was beginning to be contemporary with much of what was hanging on my walls. I had visions of someday being stuffed and hung there, myself, among the old can openers and vegetable choppers, as a relic of the past. This may be a slight overstatement, but you get the picture.
I still have a special affinity for early, electric kitchen appliances. I am the owner of an "Armstrong Table Stove", a kind of early 1900s toaster oven that was supposed to do everything from poach eggs to grill steaks. The inventor must have had big city apartment dwellers in mind when inventing it. I also have an "Eskimo Kitchen Mechanic", sort of a cross between an electric milkshake maker, butter churn and an electric paint can stirrer. Those old appliances always make me smile to think strange (to us) devices must have been very innovative for their time. My favorite old kitchen appliances are those antique flap-door toasters. When I got rid of most of the old kitchen tools, I liked the toasters so much that I kept a few. I still have them and they still work!
When my husband and I got married, some 26 years ago now, we did not receive a single toaster as a wedding gift. That, in itself, was unusual, but as I was already using one of the antique toasters on a daily basis, we continued on with it. I was used to it, but my new husband wasn't. Making toast with a flap-door toaster was a very intentional process. You had to be involved in your food making, not like today where you just go through the drive-thru and get a burger, fries and a soda and don't even think about where they come from. Heck, we don't even have to ask for a burger, fries and soda anymore. Now we just ask for a meal by number.
Food preparation today is quick, easy and mindless. To make toast the old fashioned way you opened the doors on each side of the toaster, put a slice of bread in each opening and shut the doors again. But, you had to be alert. You had to be involved in the process because you had to intentionally check every thirty seconds or so to see if you were burning the toast. No button to dial to get the desired browning. No automatic eject button that popped the toast up when done, the opposite of toasters today where you put the bread in and it comes out automatically toasted to the right color and texture, and you don't have to worry that either the toast or the kitchen will catch on fire if you leave the room. It seems to me that must of the challenge of daily living has been lost. And what a loss it is!
My husband learned the hard way that you can't shave and make toast at the same time. He learned that if he went and shaved while making toast he ended up having to live with the results of his inattention. We never did burn the house down and, eventually, we sacrificed the old flap-door toaster for a more updated model that even toasts English muffins, but I still miss the old one some. I believe much has been lost as we have become less intentionally involved in the process of feeding ourselves. I do remember the major lesson learned from that old toaster.
What I learned from that toaster was this: every worthwhile thing in life comes from some intentional action or decision. In this modern, computerized, videoized, spectator-centered, social networking age, knowing this is more important than ever. Today, we are divorced and disconnected from much of what goes on around us. Television, video games, the internet - all of these are hypnotic and lock us, bodily and mentally, into some inactive, frozen state of paralysis where we are no longer participants in an active life, but are spectators. This shift in focus has crept into all facets of life, even to where we have become spectators in our own spiritual lives and in our own religious expression.
Over the years, I have seen a real shift in what goes on in many churches, which I suspect mirrors some people's private spiritual lives. We live in an age where we are entertained all day long. We are entertained by television around the clock. Most stations no longer go off the air at night. Video games have become our babysitters and a way for us to be violent and aggressive in seemingly acceptable ways. The internet has taken the place of face-to-face relationships. Now, I am not against these things. Television, computers and video games are not bad in and of themselves. What I am concerned about is how we have come to depend on these devices to entertain us with an endless stream of whatever it is they offer that stimulates our sensory organs in some endless, feel good massage. We are barraged with so much quantity that we no longer critically assess what we are taking in and have forgotten that these devices do have on-off switches and plugs that can be disconnected. We act as if it is beyond our control to control them. We forget we can turn them off. These devices are no longer just tools, but have often replaced meaningful, intentional actions and relationships. And we have come, in our times of religious expression and worship, to expect this same kind of stimulation. We expect to be entertained.
People are hungrier than ever, spiritually speaking. Most of them don't know what they are looking for. All they know is that there is an empty place deep inside, but they do not know know what's missing. They do know that things like television, video games and internet chatting makes them feel better, temporarily. But it wears off after a while and they they have to go back for another fix. I am the child of alcoholics. I understand this feeling. Of the symptoms of being an adult child of alcoholics is having the urge to shop. It's a mechanism to self-medicate, to alleviate pain. You go out and buy a bunch of stuff, most of which you don't need, because it temporarily sedates the pain of dealing with the pain of your childhood experience.
People who are spiritually hungry, but don't recognize it for what it is, act in a similar fashion. They go from church to church, from guru to guru, seminar to seminar, or switch from channel to channel, scanning religious television programming or, even worse, watching the same religious channel on television all day long without recognizing that many of the 30-minute, back-to-back programming segments are teaching conflicting theologies. They aren't listening. They just want to feel something; but, culture being what it is and because of how sensitized by it they have become, and having bought into being mindlessly entertained in lieu of intentional living, they aren't looking for spiritual truth. They are just looking for the next spiritual fix, so they can feel better. Being entertained temporarily cuts the pain of being disconnected and empty.
The dictionary defines the word "titillated" as being tickled, excited or pleasurably stimulated. That's what a lot of people expect from their church or religious experience today, to be "titillated". They want to feel good. They want music that makes them feel warm and fuzzy. They want a speaker who doesn't get too deep or says things that makes them uncomfortable. And it's a plus if the preacher can crack a joke or two. They don't want anything mentally challenging, and definitely nothing that requires involvement or a response on their part. The questions - Am I here to worship God today? What am I bringing to this gathering? What is my spiritual offering? - have been replaced by - What is the service going to do for me today? Am I going to be entertained? Am I going to be pleasurably stimulated and excited? If these are also the questions you are asking, you might as well stay home and sleep in. You don't have to go to church or some other spiritual gathering to get the same physical effect. You can have sex and get the same effect as that.
Your spiritual life is not about entertainment, and should not be approached with anything less than your total, focused intention and attention. Your relationship with God is not some virtual reality video game where you create your own entertaining reality. You can not lay in your spiritual recliner and just flip channels with the remote control until you find something about God that excites, tickles and stimulates you in a pleasurable way. God does not work that way. With God there is only one channel, and it is tuned into His unchanging Holiness and HIs intention is that we be brought into line with that. That's His will.
"Will" is the deepest desires of one's heart. It is God's will, His deepest, heart-felt desire, that we be in a vital and conscious relationship with Him. That is why He intentionally paid out the life of His Son. To fix things so we can have that relationship. What is your spiritual will? Is it your will to be brought into line with God's will? Is your spiritual life and expression intentional? Or are you mindlessly flipping channels, trying to find something that makes you feel good? Are you expecting to be titillated in every service and meeting? Are you looking for entertainment?
I can hear you asking, "Well, doesn't it just happen? I believe in God. I had this emotional altar call experience once. Wasn't that it?" The danger of this kind of thinking, where we think our emotional, born again experience is the goal, is that we go onto automatic pilot and believe that the beginning point of our Christian life is the finish line and, and there's nothing left except to be entertained because we have "arrived". As a consequence, we don't move on from there, developing and growing into spiritually mature individuals. Our growth becomes stunted because we are paralyzed and hypnotized. We stay children who want nothing more than to be titillated - tickled, excited and pleasurably stimulated.
What did Jesus say about all of this? Mark 8:34-35 in the Amplified version says it best,
"If anyone intends to come after me, let him deny himself
[forget, ignore, disown, and lose sight of himself and his
own interests] and take up his cross, and [joining Me as a
disciple and siding with My party] follow with Me [continually,
cleaving steadfastly to Me]. For whoever wants to save his
[higher, spiritual, eternal] life, will lose it [the lower,
natural, temporal life which is lived only on earth]; and
whoever gives up his life [which is lived only on earth] for
My sake and the Gospel's will save it [his higher, spiritual
life in the eternal kingdom of God].
Is this what you want instead of continuous, mindless entertainment? It can be yours. But it requires something from you. The key word in these verses I just quoted is the word "intends". The dictionary defines "intend" as:
1. to have in mind as a purpose, plan; 2. to mean something to
be used for, as destined or designated; 3. to signify. And older
meaning is "to bend, direct or turn: as they intend their thoughts.
It implies having in mind something to be done; a deliberate purpose
or design, suggesting careful planning in order to bring about
particular result and a determination to do a specified thing or
act in a specified manner, to an ultimate end or purpose."
Is your ultimate, end purpose to be entertained or to have a true, filled (with God) and fulfilled life based upon a relationship with your Creator? If all you want is to be tickled, excited or pleasurably stimulated with entertainment, just continue on with spiritual channel surfing or a spiritual life of uninvolved spectatorship. But be warned. There is a price. It is this: You will always be empty and looking for the next fix. You will never be filled and you will never be fulfilled.
If you want to grow into spiritual maturity, want to be filled and fulfilled and wish to not be on the sidelines as some spectator who has no power to do anything about anything in life but would rather be an active participant in your spiritual life, you need to have intention. This means you have to do something. You have to "turn or bend your thoughts" to a decision, as the dictionary defined it. And you have to be willing to carry it out. Every day. Jesus said to "take up your cross." This means having to turn off or unplug the wanting to be constantly titillated and entertained that is keeping you in a childish state of spiritual paralysis and you have to intentionally tune in to the only channel that God is broadcasting - Himself. It requires laying down the remote control, getting out of your spiritual recliner and going into the kitchen; and, just like my old flap-door toaster, it requires intentionally keeping your eye on the toast!
Copyright, S. Rolf-Tooley, 2002, 2010.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Christ Our Passover
What a week this has been. Just the other day, along with all Jerusalem
There was that trouble in the Temple Temple Temple
Now the word on the street is that they’re going to get him. Someone came to my uncle’s house looking for that guy, Lazarus, from Bethany
We were jubilant and hopeful just the other day. Now all Jerusalem Temple Guard Jerusalem
But it’s evening and the streets are quieter., now. The air seems a little cooler as the evening breeze begins to waft up through the streets, calming nerves at it cools the air. Our attention now turns away from this city gone mad and onto one little group of people who have gathered for Passover. We join them in an upper room of private home, where we see this same man who rode the colt of a donkey triumphantly into the city and who, in our local expression, now seems to be public enemy #1. He is speaking.
In many ways it’s a Passover meal like many being celebrated in homes around the city at this hour. All the traditional items – lamb, unleavened bread, bitter herbs, cups of wine, what you’d expect, but tonight there is an urgency we don’t quite understand in his voice, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you.”
But this Passover will be like no other. Oh, I’m sure there will be the traditional prayers and blessings and the telling (the Haggadah), the story of deliverance of our ancestors from Egypt
As he speaks, not with so many words, he is in effect saying, “This commemoration of the first Passover – with the lamb, one that must be chosen without spot or blemish – a perfect lamb, a perfect sacrifice – that’s me. That is who I am. I have been with you some three years now and some of you still struggle to know who I really am. And as our families have done all these years, from generation to generation, celebrated that time when the Angel of Death passed over the first born of our ancestors in Egypt
I am that perfect lamb, that perfect sacrifice that must be chosen. I am offering the sinless live I have lived in the will of my Father, as the ransom for you. An exchange – my life for yours.
And the symbol of this body that will be killed, given for your sake, will be this bread that I am breaking with you and giving to you. And this cup, this fruit of the vine that we pour, this is my life’s blood that is going to be poured out for you.
Just as our ancestors had to choose a perfect and spotless lamb, one white as snow, sacrifice it and paint it’s blood on the doorposts of their homes, so they might have life and might be free, so must you. But from now on, you will eat it’s body by my symbol, the bread; and you must paint its blood on the door posts of your hearts because that is where I am going to be with you until I come to you again. And you must paint that blood on the door posts of your hearts by my symbol, the wine, as often as you drink it. And in addition, I do this not only for you, but for whole world.”
In just a little while, we are going to share in this Passover with the disciples, as this is what this night is all about. We call it the Eucharist. Just like the disciples, some of us still struggle, at various times in our lives, with just who Jesus was and is. Was he just a good and wise teacher like so many others? Was he a mad-man? A heretic? Or was he God come down into the lives of men and women, that he might be kinned to us, as our Kinsman-Redeemer, the only One who could save us from ourselves. But even though we waver – we’re human – we are subject to human thoughts and emotions. It’s how we’re made. We’re sure one moment. We question the next. Then we doubt and then we’re sure again. Don’t beat yourself up if this is you. It’s just part of the trip. We are constantly falling away and coming back. It’s the journey of our Christian life.
But tonight, we know who he is. Take a prayer book from the pew and turn to page 364 (BCP). Down a little past half the page, under the heading the Breaking of the Bread. I want us all to read the part that the celebrant, the priest usually says:
CHRIST OUR PASSOVER IS SACRIFICED FOR US!
And what is our response? “Therefore, let us keep the feast!” And what a joyous feast because that is who and what He is!
Turning back to the scene, the dinner is now over. Some of the disciples are struck silent by the truth of words of this man from Nazareth
The one who would betray him has gone about his business. He’s been gone some long time now, and the deal has been made, another kind of exchange. It seems the One we just heard tell his disciples that he was giving his life as a ransom for the entire world, in another exchange is only worth thirty pieces of silver.
The final hymn of the Seder has been sung and the dinner is now breaking up. We and they come down from the upper room and step out into the cool of the evening. It’s getting late and there is one more appointment to keep this night, but the man from Nazareth takes a moment to stop listen to the night sounds, the sounds of the city bedding down for the night, a dog barking in the distance, a cricket chirping. Such simple things. He stops to feel the cool air against his skin and shuts his eyes, as if enjoying it for the very first time, wanting to remember it later. Then, we go along with this band of men and their leader, as we make their way down into the Kiddron Valley and go across, up to the Mount of Olives .
Amen.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Palm Sunday 2010 - "Come Worship with Us! Come and See!"
Yesterday we lifted our arms, waving our palms branches, as we entered into the church. Once again it was too rainy to process around the church outdoors, so we settled for circling the nave as we sang, the traditional "All Glory, Laud and Honor.." We had visitors. We knew ahead that they were coming. We also knew they would be unfamiliar with our traditional celebration of Palm Sunday. I thought about them a lot during the service, wondering what they thought as we read the Passion with a narrator in the pulpit, with our parish priest reading the part of Jesus and a reader, who read the parts of all the other characters. I wondered if our visitors would be jolted right out of their pews when we got to the part where the entire congregation plays a role in the Passion by shouting, "Crucify him!" as Pilate asks what they would have him do. After the reading of the Passion, there was the homily. It was no feel good, mushy sermon. It was to the point and without pretty words to make it palatable. Nothing about a coming crucifixion is palatable. The words of the preacher left one knowing that there is now no turning back from the way of the cross. Not for Jesus, not for us.
Our visitors had been brought up to believe that we Episcopalians are not Christian. I was able to see their faces clearly, as they hung on every word. One of them was leaning forward, eyes locked onto the preacher with such intensity as he strained to make sure he did not miss a single word, that I thought he might just topple over and bang his chin on the rail in front of him, but he didn't. I am very certain that what they had been told about us not being Christian went by the wayside by the end of the homily.
As the service headed towards its pinnacle, the sharing of the Eucharist, our visitors did not come forward with the rest of the congregation, even though it was explained that any baptized person was welcome at our table and that even the un-baptized could come forward for a blessing. It would have been such a joy and added much to the celebration if they had come forward, but it was understandable that they did not. Because it was their first experience of a liturgical style of worship and everything was new and strange to them, they had done as much as they could do by just being with us.
After the service our visitors stayed for coffee hour, that time of fellowship we affectionately and humorously refer to as "the eighth sacrament." We call it that because we believe our ability to talk to one another and share about our faith in Jesus Christ is so much more important than any set of rules, dogma or other issues that drive Christians apart, that we cherish these opportunities, such as coffee hour, when we can get together and communicate face to face, in love.
This particular coffee hour was a very interesting time for our visitors and for us. As our time of fellowship progressed there were many questions back and forth with our visitors. As there were two of them, we ended up forming two conversational groups. We didn't do it on purpose. It just happened naturally. They had many questions about us and about our beliefs and about the church in general. It was a very spirited and robust time of conversation, sharing our views back and forth. We talked for an hour or so. I knew there was much more they wanted to ask about, but there was not enough time for all the questions. It ended with everyone, visitors and us, feeling that something important had occurred. As I left the church I kept thinking of Jesus saying, "Where two or more are gathered in my name...." I know we all felt His presence around the room as we talked and became friends. When they left, they told us they were going to come back again.
As Episcopalians, we really are accepting of others who are different than ourselves. I remember when I first came into the Episcopal Church from another faith tradition. As we approached the church for the first time, and as the doors opened I was expecting what I call the "Scalps for Jesus" approach to visitors - grab 'em and scalp 'em, and cut another notch in your tomahawk handle for Jesus. But that's not what I found at the Episcopal Church I found a smiling and happy people for whom every Sunday service is a joyous celebration, and who took me by the arm and said, "Come, come worship with us! Come and see!" I hope that is what our visitors found yesterday as we shared the celebration of Jesus triumphal entry into Jerusalem with them.
Our visitors had been brought up to believe that we Episcopalians are not Christian. I was able to see their faces clearly, as they hung on every word. One of them was leaning forward, eyes locked onto the preacher with such intensity as he strained to make sure he did not miss a single word, that I thought he might just topple over and bang his chin on the rail in front of him, but he didn't. I am very certain that what they had been told about us not being Christian went by the wayside by the end of the homily.
As the service headed towards its pinnacle, the sharing of the Eucharist, our visitors did not come forward with the rest of the congregation, even though it was explained that any baptized person was welcome at our table and that even the un-baptized could come forward for a blessing. It would have been such a joy and added much to the celebration if they had come forward, but it was understandable that they did not. Because it was their first experience of a liturgical style of worship and everything was new and strange to them, they had done as much as they could do by just being with us.
After the service our visitors stayed for coffee hour, that time of fellowship we affectionately and humorously refer to as "the eighth sacrament." We call it that because we believe our ability to talk to one another and share about our faith in Jesus Christ is so much more important than any set of rules, dogma or other issues that drive Christians apart, that we cherish these opportunities, such as coffee hour, when we can get together and communicate face to face, in love.
This particular coffee hour was a very interesting time for our visitors and for us. As our time of fellowship progressed there were many questions back and forth with our visitors. As there were two of them, we ended up forming two conversational groups. We didn't do it on purpose. It just happened naturally. They had many questions about us and about our beliefs and about the church in general. It was a very spirited and robust time of conversation, sharing our views back and forth. We talked for an hour or so. I knew there was much more they wanted to ask about, but there was not enough time for all the questions. It ended with everyone, visitors and us, feeling that something important had occurred. As I left the church I kept thinking of Jesus saying, "Where two or more are gathered in my name...." I know we all felt His presence around the room as we talked and became friends. When they left, they told us they were going to come back again.
As Episcopalians, we really are accepting of others who are different than ourselves. I remember when I first came into the Episcopal Church from another faith tradition. As we approached the church for the first time, and as the doors opened I was expecting what I call the "Scalps for Jesus" approach to visitors - grab 'em and scalp 'em, and cut another notch in your tomahawk handle for Jesus. But that's not what I found at the Episcopal Church I found a smiling and happy people for whom every Sunday service is a joyous celebration, and who took me by the arm and said, "Come, come worship with us! Come and see!" I hope that is what our visitors found yesterday as we shared the celebration of Jesus triumphal entry into Jerusalem with them.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
From the Transfiguration to the Cross
The Sunday before Ash Wednesday was the Feast of the Transfiguration, commemorating the occasion when Jesus revealed himself to his closest associates in his Divinity as well as his humanity. For just a moment, they were able to see him as both God and man. He knew they would need this picture to carry them through all the trials and tribulations that would come next, as each one would face challenges for his belief in Jesus, not only as their national Messiah, but as the savior and redeemer of all mankind.
What a stark contrast. One week we we are facing one direction, gazing upon Jesus in all his Glory. The next, we turn the other direction to look at Jesus in his humanity. On Ash Wednesday we began the journey that will we all know will end at Golgotha. As the days spiral downward towards the cross, we also spiral down into our Lenten disciplines and times of introspection, reflection and repentance. As we get closer to Holy Week we become more and more focused on the individual events of the last days of the life of Jesus. By Palm Sunday we look at each major event of those last days, as if under a microscope.
First, there is the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, with crowds waving palm branches and laying their garments across his path as he rides into Jerusalem admidst shouts of, "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!" Just days later Jesus celebrates his last Passover with the disciples, those intimate friends and associates who have followed him for the last three and a half years through thick and thin. He takes his place at the table and tells them, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you." As he lifts the third cup, the Cup of Blessing, he makes a fundamental change in the ceremony, and makes the Passover apply to himself. "This is my body, which is given for you..." he says. And then again, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood." For ever after, he is ultimately and finally, the Passover Lamb without blemish, the perfect sacrifice for the whole world." For us, we remember this moment each time in the Mass when the celebrant says, "Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us", and we respond, "Therefore, let us keep the feast."
Then comes betrayal, arrest, the disciples hiding in fear, illegal trials, scourging and the crucifixion. Just as Jesus knew that those disciples would need to remember him in his Glory during those moments when they were afraid, He knows that we also need to remember the Glory of the Transfiguation, lest we also are overcome during the our times of trial and fear. We are very blessed in one respect. Whereas the disciples were still struggling to come to grips with just who He was, we have two thousand years of history to reflect and look back on in our understanding of Jesus and what he came to do; but even though we have this advantage, often we still struggle with that same issue - Who is Jesus and what place does he have in my life?
When we find ourselves this struggle, wondering what Jesus has to do with our lives, I urge you to turn back and revisit the Transfiguration with new eyes and see Jesus in his Divinity as well as his humanity. During Lent, especially, it is easy to get so focused on identifying with Jesus in his humanity that we forget to look up and see that he is also God.
I wish each and every one of you a Blessed Holy Week and Easter Season!
What a stark contrast. One week we we are facing one direction, gazing upon Jesus in all his Glory. The next, we turn the other direction to look at Jesus in his humanity. On Ash Wednesday we began the journey that will we all know will end at Golgotha. As the days spiral downward towards the cross, we also spiral down into our Lenten disciplines and times of introspection, reflection and repentance. As we get closer to Holy Week we become more and more focused on the individual events of the last days of the life of Jesus. By Palm Sunday we look at each major event of those last days, as if under a microscope.
First, there is the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, with crowds waving palm branches and laying their garments across his path as he rides into Jerusalem admidst shouts of, "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!" Just days later Jesus celebrates his last Passover with the disciples, those intimate friends and associates who have followed him for the last three and a half years through thick and thin. He takes his place at the table and tells them, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you." As he lifts the third cup, the Cup of Blessing, he makes a fundamental change in the ceremony, and makes the Passover apply to himself. "This is my body, which is given for you..." he says. And then again, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood." For ever after, he is ultimately and finally, the Passover Lamb without blemish, the perfect sacrifice for the whole world." For us, we remember this moment each time in the Mass when the celebrant says, "Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us", and we respond, "Therefore, let us keep the feast."
Then comes betrayal, arrest, the disciples hiding in fear, illegal trials, scourging and the crucifixion. Just as Jesus knew that those disciples would need to remember him in his Glory during those moments when they were afraid, He knows that we also need to remember the Glory of the Transfiguation, lest we also are overcome during the our times of trial and fear. We are very blessed in one respect. Whereas the disciples were still struggling to come to grips with just who He was, we have two thousand years of history to reflect and look back on in our understanding of Jesus and what he came to do; but even though we have this advantage, often we still struggle with that same issue - Who is Jesus and what place does he have in my life?
When we find ourselves this struggle, wondering what Jesus has to do with our lives, I urge you to turn back and revisit the Transfiguration with new eyes and see Jesus in his Divinity as well as his humanity. During Lent, especially, it is easy to get so focused on identifying with Jesus in his humanity that we forget to look up and see that he is also God.
I wish each and every one of you a Blessed Holy Week and Easter Season!
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