Yesterday was the first Sunday of the Advent season. I enjoyed preaching about Advent as an "in between time" in which we are awaiting the encounter with the God whom we have already met. The point was the little lesson about the fig tree, in Mark 13:28-29, when Jesus says that when we see the buds on the tender fig tree branch we know it's summer, so also when we see little signs of life all around us, even in the dead of winter, we are assured that the Lord is near.
I learned some interesting factoids about Advent from The Companion to the Book of Common Worship, by Peter Bower. What a cool resource!
1) 6th Century Roman Christians usually observed Advent as the end of the Christian year, not the beginning, as we usually do today.
2) Blue is a sign of hope, peace, healing and Purple is a sign of preparation and penitence and Pink a sign of rejoicing! Why can't we have them all?
3) The Aramaic, "Maranatha!" (used by Paul at the end of his first letter to the Church in Corinth, and in Revelation 22), could be translated as either, "The Lord has come!" or "Come, Lord!" Although I didn't mention this in my sermon yesterday I stumbled upon an entry on Maranatha in Wikipedia, where someone said that it was sometimes used as part of an "anathema" to pray for the Lord's judgment on someone. I don't place tons of significance on Wiki but that is interesting. I have yet to verify the story.
So, Advent is one of those mushy, in between times of our church calendar. Is it the beginning, or is it the end? We continue to live, existing in between the now and the not yet. And this is the time when we know that Christ has come and Christ shall come again.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Super Shepherd!
I'm
working on a sermon about Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24 (I think). All I can
think of are two things:
1. That song from Footloose that
sings in the refrain, "I need a hero!"
2. A flying, high-speed Super
Shepherd!
These ideas are kind of helpful to me,
but they aren't exactly right on. The second image, particularly, is kind
of weird.
The Shepherd described in Ezekiel 34 is
an unveiling of the Lord's intentions to bring back together all of the people
of Israel. The image I have is of a Super Shepherd, whose crook is long
enough to reach out to the outer edges of the universe and bring back all of
the strayed sheep. This Super Shepherd has high-powered, bionic vision
that knows where all of his or her sheep are. This Shepherd is about to
make all things right, culling from all the flocks the skinny sheep from the
fat ones, the trampled from the tramplers, and those who have been taken
advantage of by their earthly shepherds. And this Shepherd is going to do
right by these skinny, worn out, injured ones. This Shepherd will lead
them to a place of re-creation, a resting place where there is plenty of good
food and water.
It sounds awfully better than the
alternative, but couldn't I have a magazine or something? Verse 15
says "I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I will
make them lie down, says the Lord God." It almost sounds like a
forced naptime to me, which I was never good at. I am too restless to want to
lie down on command. What is the meaning of this verse, "I will make
them lie down?" Do I have to?
Perhaps being made to lie down is part
of the challenge. Perhaps I being too literal here, but it reminds me of
what we are always trying to do with hyper dogs. "Lie down!" we
say. It means, "Please stop panting on the guests and stop worrying
about everyone and everything going on around you!" In other words,
"Just relax!"
We might do with listening to God's
command to "Lie Down!" Perhaps depending on how we feel when we
are commanded to do something, we may take it as pushy, or we might accept it
with obedience. We may be tempted to rebel or we may feel free to just
say, "Okay! I would be glad to lie down for a change."
Accepting God's commands, accepting the Lordship of Jesus Christ, means
trying to follow such commands. Easier said than done, I know.
And whenever someone tells me that it's okay to lie down, and let go of
all the busybody stuff, it's not easy.
This chance to lie down, finally, and
to receive the care and nurture that I need, is an act of trusting the Super
Shepherd. The Super Shepherd, after all, is the one who can take
everything, when we can no longer take any more. This passage from
Ezekiel is a description of God's salvation and utter authority over all
Creation, and having placed Jesus into a role as King over all God's people,
the Church.
The festival of Christ the King is this
Sunday. As a culture that generally doesn't think much about kings
anymore, the image of Christ as a King can be difficult to wrap our minds
around. Some people even bristle at the hierarchical image of Jesus as someone
who is somehow "above" us when he is "with" us. That bugs
some of us. Anyone who has experienced the terrifying domination of a powerful
person may be afraid to associate that experience with what they believe Jesus should
be to them. I agree. This is not the sort of king Jesus SHOULD
BE! Perhaps that is precisely why he occupies the title "King"
- to teach us something about what it means to be a ruler.
Ancient concepts of a "good
king" included such a king who had a preference for caring for the most
vulnerable in his realm. A king was also called a steward, who made sure
that the needs of the whole realm were cared for. I believe it was in my Oxford
Bible Commentary which says that the concept of a shepherd-king has its
roots in the Ancient Egyptians. (I'll have to verify that, now that I've
said it) What it means to be a king is in direct contrast to the sorts of
rules Ezekiel speaks out against in chapter 34. The earlier half of the chapter
is devoted to anger at the earthly human shepherds, who have taken full
advantage of the flock, causing injury, not protecting them, favoring some more
than others, growing fat on their power over the weakest. This Super
Shepherd has come along and collected them, taking the weakest, the injured,
the skinniest and the most impoverished and placed them in this healing and
wonderful place.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
cynicism is terminal
I have been enjoying being a pastor in a small town. I must be crazy, says my former self. I can't get sushi here. I live 2.5 hours from my boyfriend. I am about 2 hours from any large city. With the exception of mortars exploding on Friday nights at the high school football games and freight trains passing through, it is fairly quiet here. No night life, unless your idea of the "night life" is falling asleep in the La-Z-Boy with the cat on your lap at 9:00PM. I like this life. I must be getting old.
I turned 40 this past June. I have wondered what happened to me, when I think about my slightly more conservative leanings, remembering my days as a flaming liberal. And then I remember why. I turned 40. I remember a time when I couldn't imagine being "this old." I remember when my mother was "this old." But I must say, turning 40 now is nothing like it was then. They say 40 is the new 30, but I certainly like myself more at 40. 30 kind of sucked for me.
Since my generation, there has also been Generation Y and now the "Millenials" - terms that I am still trying to understand. But these are the generations who are now becoming our leaders. I look to the people who are old enough to be my parents, to see how they are reacting to the changing world, and I ask if I will be like them someday. The Baby Boomers in my church seem conflict-weary and suspicious of authority figures. They seem to grieve these facts also. They are aware that things are not so happy and shiny anymore and while they have accepted this truth, they are not happy about it. They don't live under the misapprehension that things are happy and shiny, but they seem too tired to solve it and prefer to grouse. This is the makeup of the congregation I serve. They struggle to be cheerful about the future. I remarked to someone this morning that our world is much more cynical than it used to be and she said that it "always has been," as if she couldn't even remember a time when the world wasn't cynical! If we dig further into the past, perhaps when she was about 10 years old (1950s), she might be able to remember an age when the world was a bit more hopeful, in spite of McCarthyism and fear of nukes. Technology was viewed as a blessing by many households, at least from the point of view of the men who invented it, and it was viewed as "progress." Even the word "progress" has negative connotations now, for it reminds us that with "progress" there can be negative consequences, thus making us cynical.
Sometimes I get the feeling that folks in our town feel stifled by the positive aspects of "progress," which has passed them by, like the interstate that made most people pass by our town. I think it has made some people in our town embittered and negative, particularly as they have witnessed a number of "good ideas" chased out of our town, when we really needed them. At one time a major university wanted to be planted here. That, I have heard from our local residents, went somewhere else and we missed out on a good thing. Perhaps folks feel so cynical about our present, cynical about our future, because we can't imagine our city government will ever do anything right. No wonder when we get to talking about politics we have such barbed words to express our opinions. Everyone's got an opinion, don't they? And of course they have a right to it. It's better to have opinions than to let someone think for you.
Life in a little southwestern town definitely has given me a first-hand acquaintance with that opinionated, independent, pioneer spirit. We have gone relatively unmixed for over 20 years. Many people leave our town never to return. There is a handful of those who return for retirement, called, "the Ones Who Came Back." They grew up here. We have few, true, imported opinions. I am one of the few "imports." And, I am one of the few Gen Xers in my church. At the age of 40, I am just a kid compared to 95% of my congregation.
Sometimes I have wondered why God called me to this church in this town. I am not the one who is able to breathe new life into this congregation. Nor do I feel it is my job to change who they are. I am praying for the Spirit to do these things, as God wills to do. I do know that I have an unusual grief story that most women my age have yet to experience. I have aspirations to be a country pastor/scholar, since small church ministry affords me those chances to continue serious study of what excites me. I believe in listening carefully before opening my big fat mouth. I really enjoy knowing this town and its people, including our history. I truly believe that this is part of my work, to have a vision for us, hopefully God's vision for us, that might eventually cause this church to stretch its wings and fly into the future. How we will see this through is the question. I really believe that our Presbyterian heritage has so much substance, so much history and staying power, that we can move through these times, nourishing our congregation. We have such a history and substance I really believe it can eventually attract people to us anew, if we figure out how to let God use our great gifts to serve God's purposes.
I am not a cynic. For years I have believed that cynicism is a terminal illness. A little bit of sarcasm can make you laugh a bit, even if ironically, just to get you through a tough day. The day my sarcasm turns to cynicism, just shoot me.
I turned 40 this past June. I have wondered what happened to me, when I think about my slightly more conservative leanings, remembering my days as a flaming liberal. And then I remember why. I turned 40. I remember a time when I couldn't imagine being "this old." I remember when my mother was "this old." But I must say, turning 40 now is nothing like it was then. They say 40 is the new 30, but I certainly like myself more at 40. 30 kind of sucked for me.
Since my generation, there has also been Generation Y and now the "Millenials" - terms that I am still trying to understand. But these are the generations who are now becoming our leaders. I look to the people who are old enough to be my parents, to see how they are reacting to the changing world, and I ask if I will be like them someday. The Baby Boomers in my church seem conflict-weary and suspicious of authority figures. They seem to grieve these facts also. They are aware that things are not so happy and shiny anymore and while they have accepted this truth, they are not happy about it. They don't live under the misapprehension that things are happy and shiny, but they seem too tired to solve it and prefer to grouse. This is the makeup of the congregation I serve. They struggle to be cheerful about the future. I remarked to someone this morning that our world is much more cynical than it used to be and she said that it "always has been," as if she couldn't even remember a time when the world wasn't cynical! If we dig further into the past, perhaps when she was about 10 years old (1950s), she might be able to remember an age when the world was a bit more hopeful, in spite of McCarthyism and fear of nukes. Technology was viewed as a blessing by many households, at least from the point of view of the men who invented it, and it was viewed as "progress." Even the word "progress" has negative connotations now, for it reminds us that with "progress" there can be negative consequences, thus making us cynical.
Sometimes I get the feeling that folks in our town feel stifled by the positive aspects of "progress," which has passed them by, like the interstate that made most people pass by our town. I think it has made some people in our town embittered and negative, particularly as they have witnessed a number of "good ideas" chased out of our town, when we really needed them. At one time a major university wanted to be planted here. That, I have heard from our local residents, went somewhere else and we missed out on a good thing. Perhaps folks feel so cynical about our present, cynical about our future, because we can't imagine our city government will ever do anything right. No wonder when we get to talking about politics we have such barbed words to express our opinions. Everyone's got an opinion, don't they? And of course they have a right to it. It's better to have opinions than to let someone think for you.
Life in a little southwestern town definitely has given me a first-hand acquaintance with that opinionated, independent, pioneer spirit. We have gone relatively unmixed for over 20 years. Many people leave our town never to return. There is a handful of those who return for retirement, called, "the Ones Who Came Back." They grew up here. We have few, true, imported opinions. I am one of the few "imports." And, I am one of the few Gen Xers in my church. At the age of 40, I am just a kid compared to 95% of my congregation.
Sometimes I have wondered why God called me to this church in this town. I am not the one who is able to breathe new life into this congregation. Nor do I feel it is my job to change who they are. I am praying for the Spirit to do these things, as God wills to do. I do know that I have an unusual grief story that most women my age have yet to experience. I have aspirations to be a country pastor/scholar, since small church ministry affords me those chances to continue serious study of what excites me. I believe in listening carefully before opening my big fat mouth. I really enjoy knowing this town and its people, including our history. I truly believe that this is part of my work, to have a vision for us, hopefully God's vision for us, that might eventually cause this church to stretch its wings and fly into the future. How we will see this through is the question. I really believe that our Presbyterian heritage has so much substance, so much history and staying power, that we can move through these times, nourishing our congregation. We have such a history and substance I really believe it can eventually attract people to us anew, if we figure out how to let God use our great gifts to serve God's purposes.
I am not a cynic. For years I have believed that cynicism is a terminal illness. A little bit of sarcasm can make you laugh a bit, even if ironically, just to get you through a tough day. The day my sarcasm turns to cynicism, just shoot me.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Sleep
Sleep is fascinating. It is one of those strange things we do where when we go to bed at night we enter this whole other realm of rest that is mysterious. Our bodies slow down and our minds go into a dream state. It's odd when you think about it. It's not that you cannot wake up from sleep of you hear a loud noise or something. I don't know anything about the science of sleep but as a new pastor I am discovering the great joys and necessity of it.
I am still catching up on it after a busy and wonderful journey to Austin for a seminar. Since returning home Friday night, I was busy all day Saturday and much of today for church events. After bringing communion to our two ladies at the assisted living this afternoon, I came home, made a turkey, cheese and tomato sandwich, put my feet up in the La-Z-Boy, covered up in a blanket, and promptly fell asleep for an hour and a half. I was planning to go to the pastors' prayer group that meets on Sunday afternoons but so much for that. I was gone. Out like a light. Having a very happy cat sprawled across my lap didn't make it any easier when I opened one eye and realized that the prayer group was almost over. I just closed that eye again. So much for that.
Sleep is in our lectionary texts quite a lot recently. Today I preached from the Matthew 25 text, "The Ten Bridesmaids." All ten of them fall asleep while they are waiting for the groom to arrive. But the falling asleep was not the bad part of the story. All ten, both the foolish and the wise ones, fall asleep. I think that gives us all permission to take the time we need to care for ourselves. The wait for the coming Christ is long and can be tiring. My message to the congregation is that we have been given the gift of time. The wait grants us some time to take a rest, just as these bridesmaids did, but the wait also grants us time to seriously get ready for God's reign to come. Jesus does say, however, "Stay watchful! For you do not know the day or hour." We can stay watchful and prepared, even while we get a little sleep in during the wait time.
Next week is another sleep-related lectionary text. 1 Thessalonians 5. I look forward to seeing what that is about. How could it be related to the fast-approaching Advent Season? I think I preached from that piece in 1 Thessalonians a few years ago, maybe 6 years ago? I remember working on my translation of it in preparation for Sunrise Beach Federated Church in Sunrise Beach Village, Texas. Wow that was a long time ago. I look forward to returning to that and mining the work I have already done. This Sunday should be interesting.
I am still catching up on it after a busy and wonderful journey to Austin for a seminar. Since returning home Friday night, I was busy all day Saturday and much of today for church events. After bringing communion to our two ladies at the assisted living this afternoon, I came home, made a turkey, cheese and tomato sandwich, put my feet up in the La-Z-Boy, covered up in a blanket, and promptly fell asleep for an hour and a half. I was planning to go to the pastors' prayer group that meets on Sunday afternoons but so much for that. I was gone. Out like a light. Having a very happy cat sprawled across my lap didn't make it any easier when I opened one eye and realized that the prayer group was almost over. I just closed that eye again. So much for that.
Sleep is in our lectionary texts quite a lot recently. Today I preached from the Matthew 25 text, "The Ten Bridesmaids." All ten of them fall asleep while they are waiting for the groom to arrive. But the falling asleep was not the bad part of the story. All ten, both the foolish and the wise ones, fall asleep. I think that gives us all permission to take the time we need to care for ourselves. The wait for the coming Christ is long and can be tiring. My message to the congregation is that we have been given the gift of time. The wait grants us some time to take a rest, just as these bridesmaids did, but the wait also grants us time to seriously get ready for God's reign to come. Jesus does say, however, "Stay watchful! For you do not know the day or hour." We can stay watchful and prepared, even while we get a little sleep in during the wait time.
Next week is another sleep-related lectionary text. 1 Thessalonians 5. I look forward to seeing what that is about. How could it be related to the fast-approaching Advent Season? I think I preached from that piece in 1 Thessalonians a few years ago, maybe 6 years ago? I remember working on my translation of it in preparation for Sunrise Beach Federated Church in Sunrise Beach Village, Texas. Wow that was a long time ago. I look forward to returning to that and mining the work I have already done. This Sunday should be interesting.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Things to make me go hmmm
I have been sort of adjusting back to Mountain Time, and back to my little hometown of Tucumcari. It has been several days and nights since I was home. I was in Austin, Texas for a seminar this week and got back last night. A wonderful church member picked me up from the airport, which happens to be about 2 hours from home. I am truly blessed to have such people in my life.
Other things to make me go hmmm:
So these are just a few things that make me go hmmmm. I am sure few others feel the same way, but so what? This is my blog, not yours. If you want a blog to call your own, go to my other blog.
Blessings,
Amy
Other things to make me go hmmm:
- It is comforting to know that far more accomplished pastors still are writing their sermons on Saturday night.
- Today the wind was so rough it blew away my large pumpkin on the front patio (it is now stuck in a hedge).
- Pastors are professional writers; I wanted to be a professional writer back about 20 years ago, and 20 years later, here I am, a professional writer and didn't even realize it. (thank you, Carol Howard Merritt. You make me feel special.)
- Pepper jack and swiss go great together when separated by turkey.
- Animals teach me about as much about God as people do. So does poetry as much as prose.
- Why is it that art is essential to life, but it's one of the first things that schools cut from their curricula?
- I have learned that a difference of opinion is less important than whether you can trust a person.
- Although I no longer see the point in it, I do like getting to spring forward and fall back. It's like a challenge and reward system.
- I finally see some value in #Twitter.
- I will never get tired of #DoctorWho.
- I might never get the hang of #hashtags.
So these are just a few things that make me go hmmmm. I am sure few others feel the same way, but so what? This is my blog, not yours. If you want a blog to call your own, go to my other blog.
Blessings,
Amy
Friday, November 4, 2011
Dispense with the furry shed?
So much has happened in my life since I last posted a blog here that perhaps I will dispense with http://thefurryshed.blogger.com altogether.
The problem is, I kind of like having a blog that is all to my own. Plus, I think the name is ingenious, if I do say so myself.
I like it because although there is no shed in my life, unless you count the place where I dwell, it is very punny. I shed. My two cats shed. I do finally live in a standalone building, unlike my previous dwelling, which was an apartment, and it is a one-story, shed-shape. But it is not a shed, it is a house.
I believe for the first time in my adult life, due to the expanse of wood flooring throughout the house, except for the bedrooms, I am realizing just how furry things are: between me with my long hair and two cats. I do not just have tumbleweeds outside the shed. I also indoor tumbleweeds that collect along the floorboards and coast about the floor as we three shed denizens migrate around the house. I require quite the dustbuster.
Another reason for dispensing with this blog site is because I question whether, due to the infrequency of having this blog, I am unable to maintain the second blog I more recently created. I have a new blog that is centered on my place of employment, http://thechurchwiththeholyspiritwindow.blogger.com. It is not just a job now for me - it is, in the words of the US Army, "an adventure." I am the new pastor of a lovely little bunch of people in eastern New Mexico. You can go there and see what we have to say for ourselves.
Not only does having two blogs sound overwhelming for me with all of my new responsibilities to the church, there could be an ethical dilemma about having two separate blogs. Yes, this one might feel like it is all just for me, but is it right for me to have two absolutely separate places that could allow me to germinate two separate processes of thought, two separate identities? I do not wish for that to happen. While perhaps other types of disciplines this philosophy might seem appropriate, I am not so sure I should have two different identities given the importance of integrating my true self with my work as a pastor. The problem with parallel lives is that they never touch. Being a pastor, I believe, is about being one life caring for other lives. Effectively and with integrity.
I do not plan to get rid of this blog site anytime soon. But perhaps later on down the road. I hope that the new blog becomes a place where the Good News can be preached to the ends of the earth. There is so much power and potential power in digital media, I am convinced. It may even create an interest from the local people in Tucumcari, NM, enough that they might find something that they can chew on, and discover something that they may be able to find by entering our sanctuary to worship with us.
The problem is, I kind of like having a blog that is all to my own. Plus, I think the name is ingenious, if I do say so myself.
I like it because although there is no shed in my life, unless you count the place where I dwell, it is very punny. I shed. My two cats shed. I do finally live in a standalone building, unlike my previous dwelling, which was an apartment, and it is a one-story, shed-shape. But it is not a shed, it is a house.
I believe for the first time in my adult life, due to the expanse of wood flooring throughout the house, except for the bedrooms, I am realizing just how furry things are: between me with my long hair and two cats. I do not just have tumbleweeds outside the shed. I also indoor tumbleweeds that collect along the floorboards and coast about the floor as we three shed denizens migrate around the house. I require quite the dustbuster.
Another reason for dispensing with this blog site is because I question whether, due to the infrequency of having this blog, I am unable to maintain the second blog I more recently created. I have a new blog that is centered on my place of employment, http://thechurchwiththeholyspiritwindow.blogger.com. It is not just a job now for me - it is, in the words of the US Army, "an adventure." I am the new pastor of a lovely little bunch of people in eastern New Mexico. You can go there and see what we have to say for ourselves.
Not only does having two blogs sound overwhelming for me with all of my new responsibilities to the church, there could be an ethical dilemma about having two separate blogs. Yes, this one might feel like it is all just for me, but is it right for me to have two absolutely separate places that could allow me to germinate two separate processes of thought, two separate identities? I do not wish for that to happen. While perhaps other types of disciplines this philosophy might seem appropriate, I am not so sure I should have two different identities given the importance of integrating my true self with my work as a pastor. The problem with parallel lives is that they never touch. Being a pastor, I believe, is about being one life caring for other lives. Effectively and with integrity.
I do not plan to get rid of this blog site anytime soon. But perhaps later on down the road. I hope that the new blog becomes a place where the Good News can be preached to the ends of the earth. There is so much power and potential power in digital media, I am convinced. It may even create an interest from the local people in Tucumcari, NM, enough that they might find something that they can chew on, and discover something that they may be able to find by entering our sanctuary to worship with us.
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