More than gray hair

The other day I had both my passport, issued nearly ten years ago, and my driver’s license, issued a few months ago, out side by side. I was caught off guard by how different my pictures were. I saw far less hair, far grayer hair.  Perhaps that is why verse 18 of  psalm 71 appointed for today’s daily office:

And now that I am old and gray-headed, O God, do not forsake me, *
till I make known your strength to this generation
and your power to all who are to come.

resonated with me so much.  Actually I like the NKJ version better

18  Now also when I am old and grayheaded, O God, forsake me not; until I have shewed thy strength unto this generation, and thy power to every one that is to come.

because it sounds more challenging, i.e. to share the story of God not just with my generation, but the next one, and the next one, and the next one, and the ones to come after that. As a boomer that includes: two previous generations: the GI’s and the Silent, and three that follow: Gen X, Millennials (or Y), the New Silent (or Generation Z), and we should be on the cusp of the next one to come. (I hadn’t realized there were so many.)

My last two blogs have been grounded in language and misunderstanding.  Currently evangelism spans six, maybe seven generations. That is six or seven different language and experience sets, and more when you include cultural differences of the many heritage backgrounds of everyone that is to come.  It’s quite a challenge to be flexible in our story telling.  On the other hand this is not a new challenge; scripture has migrated from spoken to written; from Hebrew to Greek, to Latin, to the vulgar languages (the language of the people).  It occurs to me if we should look for gleanings from translators as we seek proclaim the story of God’s active presence in history to an ever increasing mixture of peoples.

Of course there is the reality that no matter good our story telling is; it much more likely to be the way we live, the way we treat each other, the way we treat others, especially those on the margins, that will get people’s attention. And there we have work to do.


Abuse at the well

The more I read about this passage from John, the more I see the subtle presence of domestic abuse in the history and behavior of the woman at the well.  She has been in a series of marriages that did not end well.  In the day, choosing to end a marriage is a male prerogative. It is very likely as each bad marriage ends, and her self-respect further declines, her decisions get poorer and poorer as she desperately seeks security.  Her presence at the well at noon alone (she is not expecting Jesus) is an indication of her rejection by the community, a form of blaming the victim. The abuse continues for centuries the misreading of her behavior to be a prostitute is emblematic of domestic abuse (we continue to blame the victim).

Jesus sees her for who she is, a beloved child of God. He offers her new life, which at first she misunderstands, and he inspires her to share with the community who has rejected her, the promise Jesus offers. They listen to her (a miracle?); they positively respond and go see Jesus. The woman, whose name we never know, is restored to relationship to her community. There is powerful similarity to Jesus restoring the hemorrhaging woman take heart daughter; your faith has made you well. [i] In calling her daughter Jesus restores her to her community.

Part of breaking the cycle of domestic violence is restoring the victim’s self-worth and restoring them to a loving community.  Part of breaking the cycle of sin is restoring all people to unity with God and each other in Christ. [ii]


[i] Matthew 9:22

[ii] Book of Common Prayer, 855

Confusion abounds

Last February was the Creationism Vs. Evolution Debate featuring Ken Ham and Bill Nye. Not long after that I hear our bishop say the most notable thing of the debate was each proponent inarticulately trying to use the other’s language to prove his point. Last week we read as Nicodemus misinterprets Jesus because he hears mystical language literally. This week we read the same confusion only more so. The woman at the well misunderstands Jesus’ ‘living water’ twice. The disciples misunderstand Jesus’ reference to food they “do not know about.” Last night I watched Bill Maher’s brutal review of Noah which is actually a brutish critique of Christian belief. (You can watch it on U-Tube, be forewarned).

The gleaning I am drawing from his rant is that when mystical language of faith is taken as literal language huge confusion occurs. As people of faith we must know our language, including its faith and mystical elements. If we do not, and if we attempt to defend Christian faith against such critiques, we will come off like Ham and Nye, inarticulate.

The reading from John also reveals a faithful approach to such criticism. The woman at the well returns to town, and shares with everyone her experience with Jesus at the well, and wonders, out loud, if he is the messiah. In short she simply invites them to come and see. They did, and they came to believe. Rather than argue, perhaps we should simply invite those who do not see to come and see, and leave the rest to the transforming power of the Spirit.

Tacking buoys

A sermon for Lent 2

Genesis 12:1-4a, Romans 4:1-5, 13-17, John 3:1-17, Psalm 121

 A colleague of mine blogged this week about dogma, doctrine, and discipline, all that church law stuff, acting like channel buoys, guiding us on our journey. He goes on say a faith journey is akin to a journey in a sail boat, the wind blows where it will, and sailors have to keep alert to tack correctly and stay between the buoys. [i]

 He story remained me of the time, just after I had met Angie, and we went camping with a group of friends. Someone brought a sunfish sail boat. I invited her to go sailing with me. As we set out I told her about tacking with the wind, and to be careful of the boom. There was constant 5 mile/hour wind, enough to be fun, but not to have to work too hard. When the wind began to get a bit gusty; it was time to turn around and head back to shore. The turn went fine. The next tack came with a sudden gust, the boom moved quite quickly, hit me on the shoulder and knocked me off the boat.  When she saw I was okay, Angie almost rolled off the boat in laughter. I couldn’t decide whether to swim after the boat, now drifting away, or swim off into the middle of lake and obscurity. 34 or so years later, I’m glad I swam after the boat.

Both Abram and Nicodemus are off on journeys; Abram travels far, Nicodemus never leaves home; both traverse the nearness and distance of God; both experience a transformation of faith. We think we know a lot about both. Let’s see.

 We know God calls Abram to 

Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.

We have probably forgotten that his father started a similar journey to a faraway a land that stalled.[ii] [iii] Abram’s journey begins, or continues if you will, with five divine promises, including in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. This final blessing is a commissioning that forever places Israel within the lives of others. [iv] Its theme echoed in Isaiah 42:6: [v]

  I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness … I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations …

Even with all those blessings and all the promise of greatness, it’s a perilous journey, physically, but also spiritually, for in the day to leave your home-land is to risk being lost in the afterlife. Abram risks eternal life for a future he will never see. [vi] Juliana Classens writes:

Abraham is introduced as the embodiment of a new form of society which deliberately severs its bonds with a static past in order to experiment in time. [vii]


Nicodemus’ journey is far shorter in distance, and takes only a few years, at least to start. He is firmly rooted in the hierarchy of wealth and power, a Pharisee, and member of the Roman authorized Sanhedrin, the Jewish ruling body. He comes to visit Jesus because he is intrigued. He comes at night because he is not willing to risk very much. Although it is poignant to note that darkness and night are associated with God’s absence.  [viii]

What we know best of Nicodemus’ visit is the immediate confusion from Jesus quip: no one can see the kingdom of God without being born anōthen [ix] It’s no wonder Nicodemus is confused, we’ve been raging about it for years; “born again” or “born form above?” Well it’s both anōthen means “from above” and “again.” But he would know that, so his confusion is taking mystical language about birth as literal language.

You may wonder if Nicodemus’ Impossible sounds as much like a snicker as disbelief. It would not be the first time an astounding divine statement is met with laughter. Sarah guffaws [x] when she overhears the three strangers tell Abram your wife Sarah will have a son. [xi]  Be it laughter, or blatant disbelief, Nicodemus error is the same he cannot conceive a way in which he could be born again, or from above.

We can’t figure it out either.  Scott Hozee has an intriguing insight:

Babies don’t decide to get born, they just GET born. Nor can babies decide that all things being equal, they’d prefer to stay in the womb. [xii]

We had nothing to do with being born. We have nothing to do with being born again, or born from above. Either way, again or from above, it’s God’s gift of Jesus among us that gives us eternal life. And here again we must read carefully because for John eternal life is not just forever  it is forever in the presence of God. Moreover, it’s not something far off, its right here, right now. [xiii] [xiv] N. T. Wright notes Jesus says the same thing in the Lord’s Prayer:  your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Abram’s and Nicodemus’ journeys don’t seem to have much in common. Abram’s goes on for years, and we have many stories of its many ups and downs. All we know of Nicodemus’ is the night visit, a modest effort to defend Jesus at trial and his assistance to Joseph at Jesus’ burial. Both stories have a central feature. Both Abram and Nicodemus are invited

… to follow God with closed eyes; to depart on a journey without a map. The journey may be [short or] long, [maybe] much longer than one may have thought. It is a journey with many ups and downs, many joys and sorrows. But it is journey filled with many, many promises – the most important being the promise of God’s presence to show … the way. [xv]


Their journeys are precursors to our Lenten journey. We, like they, are called to sever bonds with much that is meaningful, comfortable and valuable, to head off somewhere not even defined, with confusing promises, and laughable rational, for a destination we may never see, and to be a blessing to people we may not know, may not even like, right here right now. This journey is one the church, writ large, all denominations hierarchical, like us, Methodist and the Romans or Congregationalist, like Baptist, even non-denominational churches, and the church writ small, every local congregation, faces every day. All the church carefully considers how to take the first step. And there is wisdom in those considerations because Sam is right:

It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to. [xvi]

He’s right, there’s no way of knowing. The winds:  of chance encounter, of the Spirit blow in unexpected ways of their own accord. All we can do is tack as best we can with one eye on the buoys and the other on the boom.

It is our custom to view Lent as a time to re-orient our lives with God. So let’s set our sail, and tack with the wind. We may get blow off course, we may get knocked off the boat, but we will never be alone, God never abandoned Abraham, or his descendants. God sent us Jesus, so we can complete the journey Abram continued, and Nicodemus took a few tepid steps along. And on our way, may we share the blessing of living in the eternal presence of God every day.


[i] Steve Pankey, the buoys of orthodoxy,
[ii]  David L Petersen, Beverly R Gaventa, New Interpreter’s One Volume Commentary, 2010 Abingdon Press
[v]  Juliana Claassens Working Preacher  3/13/2014 Genesis 12:1- 1/3RCL|Narrative|Evangelio|Index,
[vi]  Scott Hoezee  This Week at the Center for Excellence in Preaching, Next sunday is March 16, 2014 (Ordinary Time) This Week‘s Article: Old Testament Lectionary Text is: Genesis 12:1-4a
[vii] Claassens, ibid
[viii] Walter Harrelson,  New Interpreters’ Study Bible, Abingdon Press, 2003
[ix] Strong’s Talking Greek & Hebrew Dictionary.
[x]  Robert Hoch Working Preacher,  3/13/2014 John 3:1-17 1/4RCL|Narrative|Evangelio|Index, Commentary on John 3:1-17
[xi] Genesis 18:10
[xii] Scott Hoezee, This Week at the Center for Excellence in PreachingNext sunday is March 16, 2014 (Ordinary Time)This Week‘s Article: Gospel Testament Lectionary Text is: John 3:1-17
[xiii] Harrelson, NISB
[xv] Claassens, ibid.
[xvi], ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Continue the Journey

It was blog by a colleague [i] who pointed me to water and sailing and a story I should never forget. I had just met AFM who would become my wife. We went camping with a group of friends. Someone brought a sunfish sail boat. I invited her to go sailing with me. As we set out I told her about tacking with the wind, and to be careful of the boom. We were having a good time. When the wind began picking up it was time to turn around and head back to shore.


The turn went fine. On the next tack, the boom moved quite quickly, hit me on the shoulder and knocked me off the boat.  When she saw I was okay, AFM almost rolled off the boat in laughter. I couldn’t decide to swim after the boat, now drifting away, or swim off into the middle of lake and obscurity. 34 or so years later, I’m glad I swam after the boat.

The wind, the Spirit, does choose where it blows, and when we choose to follow God’s call … to the land that I will show you. [ii] it is very much like sailing. And occasionally you will find yourself if not off course, perhaps off the boat. And in such cases there is always the choice, to swim away into obscurity, or get back onto the boat, back on course. Abram’s and Nicodemus’ stories both show us folks who choose to get back on course; perhaps not as fully as one could imagine, and perhaps to face another decision the leads on off course, but never to final obscurity. We are always welcome to continue the journey.


Into the unknown

The Lord tells Abram, leave your family, and county and go away to this place I will tell you … Abram went.

 When I was ordained my bishop said: You know you have hitched yourself to an itinerant star and the Spirit can be very precious. I had no idea; my family had even less of an idea. In twenty years I have been in several places; none of them were anywhere on my sphere of interest.  All that gets to God’s statement I will tell you. Abram heads off into who knows where, and he did so, knowing he did not know where he would go. I give him all the credit for righteousness. Yes, I’ve been to places unimagined; but I always thought I knew where I was headed. Wrong.

In one respects this reading reflects last week’s, obedience. Like Jesus, Abram obeyed, where Adam and Eve did not. He didn’t obey to the full degree Jesus did, but he did obey.

In our Lenten discipline, maybe venturing into the unknown is a call to obey God?