Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts

Sunday, January 24, 2016

What a preacher needs



 
When I entered the seventh grade, I had, for the first time in my school career, a choice of electives.  I chose Drama, and the first role I ever had was that of the nefarious Squire Blackheart in a fairy-tale comedy called “The Thwarting of Baron Bolligrew.”  To my surprise, it turned out I was quite good, and after our performance, I found myself in the wondrous and terrifying position of being mobbed by gushing eighth-grade girls.  It was a degree of triumph I would never repeat, but thus began my flirtation with theatre that continued through high school and into college.  I say “flirtation” because I met some friends along the way for whom it was a full-fledged romance.  They were destined for a lifetime of waiting tables in New York City, and going to thousands of auditions, for the sake of the occasional minor role.  And I was never one of those.
I did dream of being an actor when I was younger, just as I dreamed of being a rock star, and a jungle explorer, and a quarterback.  But by the time I was an adolescent, when the question “what do you want to be when you grow up” starts to take on a little more gravity, it was clear to me that, while I enjoyed my time in the theater, it wasn’t my life’s work.   What I did not have the foggiest notion about, however, and would not for years and years, was that it was training for my true vocation.  I did not know it, and would have laughed in your face if you’d told me so at the time, but I can see now that it was part of my training to be a preacher. 
There are skills I learned doing school plays that I still use every week: simply being comfortable speaking or singing in front of a crowd, for instance, or projecting my voice to fill a room; how to vary the inflection of my voice for dramatic effect, or the use of comedic timing.  In preaching, as in acting, there is a text to interpret—in one case, the script of a play, in the other a passage or passages of scripture.  But what the actor and the preacher do with their texts are very different.  The task of the actor is to enter the text, so that the character she plays takes possession of her, and comes to life on the screen or on the stage.  This draws the audience into the world of the play, to know human emotion and human experience with a vividness we rarely match in our real, everyday lives.   
But a preacher’s job is not to draw her listeners into the biblical world, but to bring that world into ours.  So, in a way, the sermon that Jesus gives in Chapter 4 of Luke is the essence of Christian preaching.  Like any good preacher he begins with his text, in this case, Isaiah 61.  He also has a sense of drama.  When he finishes reading he sits down, and for a moment he says nothing, holding the attention of the room, letting the tension build in the silence until time itself seems to stop, waiting to hear what he will say.  When he does speak, he does not break that tension.  If anything he heightens that moment of suspense, so all the meaning of Isaiah’s text can enter it.  And what Jesus says is that these are not empty words.   They are full.  They are full of the power and truth of what is happening to you in this place, right here, right now. 
They are words about a mission, that is moving in the world by the proclamation of good news.  News is about what is happening now, and it is good when it is about what is breaking forth from this time, from these circumstances, that bears the fingerprints of God.  We can recognize those fingerprints because the purposes of God are consistent and unwavering.  God’s purpose to preach hope and victory to the poor, to announce release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and liberation to the oppressed, was the same in Jesus’ day as it was in Isaiah’s and still is in ours.  And yet these are just words, just words in a book unless someone makes the proclamation. 
So when Jesus says “today this scripture is fulfilled,” he is talking about himself.  He is announcing that God has sent him, for the purpose that has always been there, for anyone to read in the law and the prophets.   His words are full of the Spirit’s creative power and so they give the grace that they declare.  Jesus’ preaching is not about good news, it gives good news, opens eyes, frees the captive and oppressed.  It inaugurates the year of the Lord’s favor, on an ordinary Sabbath morning in Nazareth of Galilee. 
But Jesus is also speaking about his audience.  This scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing, he says.  And this little added prepositional phrase, literally “in your ears”, is as central to Jesus’ preaching as the rest of it.  It poses questions to his hometown neighbors that they can only answer for themselves—did you hear me?  Do you believe that I fulfil the words the prophet said?  Or are you still holding those words at a distance, as if they belong to another time, another life, another world? 
These questions have not lost their significance, not least because the prophetic mission that Jesus claimed for his own has lost none of its urgency.  The news for the poor today is just about as bad as it ever was.  There are still countless captives waiting for release, and oppressed people dying to be free.  What may be less clear is how these ancient stories can speak to them, let alone to us.  And I guess that’s work that falls to me, as a preacher—to try to make that connection.  It’s no small task, under any circumstances, but to do it week after week after week is the hardest thing about my job.   I think it may also be the most important.  There is an element of craft involved, as with any other kind of work, and the longer one does it, the more confident and skillful in that craft one becomes.  But I must say, and forgive me if this sounds immodest, that I could not do it without the gifts of the Holy Spirit. 
 
The first of these gifts is a simmering discontent, a questioning and thirst for liberation that will not go away.  It’s a dissatisfaction so thorough that drugs cannot tranquilize it, and therapy will not heal it; meditation will not calm it, and political ideology won’t explain it away.  It is a questioning that will not be satisfied with any answer less complete than the answer given by God. 
The next gift I think you need to preach is the faith that this answer is in the Bible.  Not that you are picking out verses to memorize, but that the more you read it, and the more of it you read, the more you can begin to see what it is really trying to say.  So I try to read it every day, and to listen to what I read as closely as I can.  I try to keep the attitude that these words are not empty, but that Christ is speaking in them, if only I can hear, about his fullness. 
Another spiritual gift a preacher needs is the faith that her own experience somehow reflects what is written in the scriptures.  The connection is often quite tenuous.  Sometimes as I’m preparing to write my sermon, I find myself thinking about something that’s happened to me that seems completely unrelated to the texts I’m supposed to preach on that week.  But when I keep working—working with the text and working with my own experience—I find that the edges of each grow toward one another, and begin to interweave in ways I could never have foreseen. 
Finally, and most of all, a preacher needs the gift of people to preach to, people who will listen.  A preacher needs people who share his holy discontent, his longing for the good news of God.  He needs a congregation who read the Bible, and listen for the voice of Christ.  He needs a community where people are looking for how that voice is speaking in their own experience, who trust in, and act on, the authority of what it tells them.  He needs people with the faith and the courage speak with that voice in their own lives, who let it anoint them and send them with their own gifts of the Spirit, to proclaim good news to the world.      

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Turning of the years




As some of you already know, my birthday is this week.  I’ll be turning fifty, which is one of those nice round numbers that lends itself to being thought of as a milestone.  It also makes for some easy computations.  For example, because I was ordained to the priesthood on my fortieth birthday, I will soon be able to say that I have spent one-fifth of my life as an Episcopal priest.  Or, since I came to Petaluma five years ago in August, I can already say that I have spent one-tenth of it in the service of St. John’s Church.  But, of course, the calculation that carries the most weight on an anniversary like this is the one that is impossible to make—the one that asks what proportion of my span of life remains to be spent.  I can’t know, but the odds are low, and diminishing quickly, that the answer is greater than one half.
When I was a child, or a young man, the time I have left seemed endless, because I couldn’t imagine it.  But now I know how long thirty years, or forty, or even fifty years is, because I’ve already lived it—and I know it’s not long.  So during this past year, as I have contemplated turning fifty, I have sometimes felt afraid: afraid of losing my social cachet, and my hair, and my mental and physical faculties; afraid of dying, certainly; but most of all afraid of running out of time, afraid that what remains of my life will run through my fingers as quickly and heedlessly as the life I have already spent.  My time is getting short, and at moments I am afraid I will come to the end of it with regret that I did not use it well.
But as my birthday’s gotten closer I’ve come to see that hidden in that fear there is a gift.   The fear itself is a gift, because it motivates me to ask some very important questions.  When I face the truth of my mortality, and do not look away, I cannot help but question the way I am living, the work that I’m doing, and the quality of my relationships, in the light of their ultimate significance.  How well am I lining up with my highest values?  What unfinished work can I still realistically hope to accomplish in the time that remains to me?  Am I creating the legacy I want to leave behind me when I’m gone?     
And within the fear of failing to live in a manner worthy of the best I hope to be, is the recognition that my time in this body, in this world, is a precious gift.  I did not create this life, I did not earn it, no one asked I deserved it, it just came to me, and along with it came all the other gifts, of love, nourishment, companionship, protection, teaching, solace, and support that have enabled me to carry it thus far.  When I appreciate the miracle of having had these fifty years to live the life that I’ve been blessed to have, I’m not so afraid anymore.  I’m grateful.  I am deeply thankful, and I aspire to make each day that’s added to the blessing I’ve received, my own modest way of saying “yes” to such unmerited abundance.

The Bible encourages us to think about the whole world in much the same way I’ve been thinking about my own fiftieth birthday.  We tend to assume that the world is going to go on and on pretty much the same as it is now for such a long time, it might as well be forever.  But one of the recurring themes in the Bible is that we need to keep in mind that it is going to end, maybe sooner than we think.  Maybe immediately.   
And if you take seriously passages like the one in Luke about how "There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations” it is only natural to be afraid.  But making us afraid is not the intent behind these words.  The passage goes on to say “people will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world;” so it does acknowledge that what it is talking about is frightening.   But its purpose in warning us about these things ahead of time is so that we will not cower in fear, ducking for cover, but so we will confidently raise our heads and look for what is coming after.
There was a brief time in the history of our own civilization when some of us, at least, could imagine we were building a world that would last forever.  The continuous advancement of science and technology, capitalism and industry, liberal democracy, and the so-called Rights of Man, would just go on and on and on until we arrived at an earthly paradise.  And yet, the fear of the sudden end, the abrupt and unexpected crash, has continued to haunt our civilization, even in circles where its religious basis is denied.  Nuclear war, asteroid collision, bird flu, global warming, fanatics with dirty bombs populate our nightmares, even as we continue to praise the magnificence of our dreams. 
But I think it is ridiculous to think that first-century followers of Jesus envisioned our moment in history, and issued warnings about our specific circumstances, but their timing was just two thousand years off.  There were signs enough in their own century that the world they lived in could not last.  Falsehood, injustice and violence so riddled its social, religious, and political order that it could not help but fall.  They saw that this was not simply true of the institutions that they knew--the Judean temple-state and the Greco-Roman Empire--but that any new power that might rise to take their place would share the same spirit and so meet the same fate.  
What the authors of the Bible understood is that we human beings keep trying to create an order in the world that will last forever, because this is how we cope with our fear of death.  We think that if we can be part of something greater than ourselves, a set of norms and symbols, of customs, laws, and institutions with their monuments and histories, if we can improve a little on this legacy and pass it down intact to succeeding generations at least we can feel like our lives meant something.   And if we have to cut some corners, and turn a blind eye to certain uncomfortable truths, and sacrifice some victims to maintain the present order of the world, we consider the price worth paying.  But the hard message of the Bible is that this effort is still futile, because the world you and I live in, and any other we could make, is coming to end. 
Because we cannot take the anxieties and aspirations of our mortal lives and make from them our own ultimate meaning.  It lies beyond them.  We cannot derive the transcendent values by which to steer an eternal course from the conventional wisdom of a world that is passing away—they come from somewhere else.  But here is what the Bible says that is heartening and liberating, beyond what we have any reason to expect—that help has come, and more is on the way.  We may already have one foot in the grave, but Christ has emptied the tomb of its power.  The world may be coming to an end, but at that end we’ll find the world’s true beginning.  Because God wants greater things for us than we know how to want for ourselves.
Which means that through all the troubles we encounter, in the face of all the things that cast a pall of fear and helplessness over our lives, we hold an unbreakable lifeline of hope.  And I don’t mean a passive, “well, maybe someday” kind of hope.  The hope that the writers of the New Testament urged on their communities was an active readiness, a way of living in expectation that God’s inconceivable deliverance is close at hand.  It is very close, closer than we think, liable to break into the world and transform everything we thought was impervious to change, or wouldn’t change for a long, long time.  The grace to know what, out of all the things the world has conditioned us to want, we really need, has come to us, is coming to us, will come to us, even as we hope for its coming.  And the true desire of the nations, which spells their doom and their deliverance, is God’s desire too.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Particular people, particular places




Yesterday afternoon at four, eight human beings and one small dog set out from the front door of St. John’s to make a procession through the streets of Petaluma.  Chanting litanies and canticles and psalms, we walked to the community garden between the Cavanaugh Rec Center and the ball fields at McNear Park, where we read scriptures and said prayers and sang hymns and chants, and made a sacred circle dance, to bless the garden and the people who tend it.  This is our second year doing this, reviving a Christian tradition that goes back to the fifth century, of going out of the church at this time of the year and processing around the neighborhood to pray for its health and well-being, and especially, for temperate weather, and the fertility of the earth, and an abundant harvest.  
To be honest, a month or so ago I had decided that, as much as I enjoyed last year’s event, and would like to repeat it, I just had too much on my plate.  But that was before Francis Frazier came to talk to me about the Community Resilience Challenge.  This is a grassroots campaign that’s been going on this spring, with the majority of events happening this weekend.  It aims to inspire thousands of Sonoma County citizens and groups to take actions to save water, grow food, conserve energy, reduce waste and build community.  And as Frances and I talked about how our church might participate in this effort, it became clear that the Rogation Procession and blessing of the community garden was the very thing to fit the bill.   But not only did we decide to repeat last year’s event—we expanded on it.  To generate more goodwill and participation from the community, Frances got her son Miguel to truck his handmade mobile wood-fired oven onto the community garden site, and we invited the gardeners to join us after the blessing ceremony for a potluck pizza party, courtesy of St. John’s Episcopal Church.
It was my job to plan the liturgy, and as I went to work on it I ran into a familiar problem, the problem of how to pray and worship in public as a Christian.  The Bible, the Prayer Book, and the hymnals of the church give us a wealth of beautiful material for a service like this.  We have litanies and psalms, canticles and parables that beautifully express a sacred vision of the wholeness of the world.  In texts that blend images of wild nature, human husbandry, and the realm of the divine, they speak profoundly of our faith in the goodness of creation, our gratitude for God’s merciful providence, and our desire to be restored to unity with all.   But this language is unmistakably religious—Biblical and Christian. 
And when I imagined our neighbors at the McNear Community Garden, and the sort of people who would feel drawn to participate in the Community Resilience Challenge, I worried that this language might offend.  It turns out I worried about it too much.  There was only one person who was not a member of our congregation who came to the church for the procession.  There were only a couple more who joined us for the ritual at the garden, and if our Christian prayers made them uncomfortable, they were too polite to say.  There were a few folks working in the garden when we got there, and they kept a respectful distance while we did our religious thing.  But when the prayers were over they came and joined us, and others arrived in force.  And it was then, in breaking handmade wood-fired gluten-free pizza crust together, that we found a joyful common ground.
It turns out our neighbors could take care of themselves.  They did not take part in our religious activity, and so our religious language could not offend them.  And yet they seemed genuinely glad that we had come.  Our singing, in particular, came in for several appreciative comments.  One fellow, who had continued preparing his beds all the while our ritual was going on, came up to me after it was over, and I’d already removed my vestments, and asked if I would bless his seed potatoes before he covered them with soil.  So I grabbed my holy water and started sprinkling, while speaking an impromptu, non-sectarian potato-blessing prayer.
Yesterday’s experience got me to wondering about why it is I feel I have to be so careful about other people’s feelings when it comes to practicing my religion.  If you think about it, if we had been a group of Buddhist monks or Native American elders who had come to the community garden to bless the site and what goes on there, our neighbors might have regarded us with curiosity, or thought we were kind of quaint,  or mysterious.  But they also would have felt tickled, and maybe a little honored, that this exotic little tribe thought enough of what they are doing in that place to come and perform their traditional ceremony. 
But then again, it is no secret that ours is not just one religion alongside other religions.  Our Bible states that clearly again and again, and there are plenty of our fellow Christians who keep demanding, even in this secular, multi-cultural and pluralistic age, that nobody forget it.  And for some of us that’s an embarrassment.  We want to be liked.  We just want everyone to get along.  We think of ourselves as the good guys, and don’t care to be tarred with the brush of the conquistadors and witch-burners, the religious bigots and theocrats and fundamentalists.
The Bible does say that God is one, is universal.  But it also says that the great creator of all the worlds has a particular purpose for this one.  And in order to bring about that purpose, God intervenes in this world in particular places and times. God speaks and acts through particular persons, a particular family, one particular nation.  And so the Bible give us, not myths about divine beings, but human stories—the stories of Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Moses and Miriam, David and Bathsheba.  It give us the words of the prophets, who speak to specific events in the economic, political, and military fortunes of Israel, as moments of decisive importance to God.  And this strange way of thinking about how God relates to the world is, of course, what gets us to what the New Testament says about Jesus.
As Christians we say that Jesus is the particular and personal revelation of who God really is, how God really acts.  But our circumstances today force us to ask whether this necessarily excludes the possibility that God acts in other places, in other persons, in other true and noble paths to the higher kind of human life.  And what we are coming to is that what other people think and believe is not really any of our business.  If they are redeemed by Christ, as we believe, it would hardly do to force that redemption upon them in a way that does violence to their cultures and their consciences.  It would not be consistent with the teaching and example of him who said “The one who would be great among you must be last of all and servant of all, for the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
We say that Christ is ascended into heaven, and he is the universal Lord.  But his Lordship is hidden in God.  How he exercises it, and in what way it is universal, is beyond us.  It is not like the rule of the powers of this world.  All we are responsible for is the particular calling that the man Jesus of Nazareth has on our lives.  And that is something we cannot respond to in general terms.  Christ calls us to be faithful as unique persons with our own families and histories and gifts: in this particular community where we encounter him in word and sacrament; in the context of the particular place that we, as Episcopalian Christians, occupy in the cultural, political, and religious landscape of Petaluma, California in the year of Our Lord 2 Thousand Fifteen.
And that means practicing our religion without the consolation of being approved of by our neighbors.  It means letting go even of the satisfaction of damning them for all eternity if they don’t.  It means letting go of any expectation that they will join us, but seeking common ground with them even as we remain rooted in our own particular calling, knowing that if there is any trace of coercion or manipulation in the way that we relate to them, they will sniff it out and shun us like the plague.  It means going into the world as Jesus prayed we would, as those who don’t belong to the world, but who seek the world’s salvation that can only come from God.  
It’s a demanding dance, so Jesus does two things for us before he goes up to heaven.  Today’s gospel lesson tells us that he makes a prayer, a prayer that we will be protected from the Evil One, who is always trying to turn our dance with the world into a war.  And he makes a promise, a promise to send us the Holy Spirit to teach us the steps of the dance.
He makes a promise  


About Me

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Petaluma, California, United States
I am a priest in the Episcopal Church, and have been (among other things) an organic farmer and gardener, and a Zen monk. I have a lifelong interest in social and spiritual renewal on the basis of contemplative discipline, creative nonviolence, and ecological practice. In recent years my work has focused intensely on the responsibility of pastoral ministry in the humanistic, evangelical, and catholic branch of Christianity known as Anglicanism. I'm married with a daughter, and have three brothers and two parents.