Sunday, January 31, 2010

Quote of the Day: Emil Brunner

...the scandal of Christianity exists as a scandal only so long as we are full of ourselves. To believe in the cross of Christ no scandal for those who have seen how perverted is their own wisdom, the wisdom of natural man. It is the very corrective for this perversion of our sight, it makes us look straight again, who by sin have become cross-eyed. The foolishness of the gospel is divine wisdom to all those who have been healed of the perversion which consists in making man’s reason and goodness the judge of all truth, that perversion which places man instead of God in the centre of the universe. The gospel is identical with the healing of this perversion, which in its depth and real significance is diabolical. It is the victory of God’s light over the powers of darkness.


Emil Brunner, The Scandal of Christianity,

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Belly Be Gone! Update 2


The bizarre thing about the green drink is that I’m losing weight but my pants are fitting more snugly and my belly is protruding even more. Which, of course, is not fair. Sorta misses the point of scarfing down my veggies first thing in the morning, followed by a couple eggs.

I chopped up all my fresh veggies, coupled with an almond, raw pumpkin seeds and sunflower kernels, and dried cranberry mixture to munch on during the day. Tasty. Yet unsatisfying. But at least it gives me gas.

I’ve been told that it takes somewhere around 21 days to form a new habit. I don’t know if that’s true or not but creating new habits takes discipline, which takes a kind of energy that I don't know if I have.

Exercise is hit and miss. This is the hardest area for me. Mainly because I’d rather have my nose in the newspaper than sweating on the elliptical machine. I’d rather zone out with a massive theological tome than work my biceps.

But, of course, I need both: good nutrition AND proper exercise.

Today will be better. I promise.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Belly Be Gone: Update 1


My weight-loss scheme is being met with modest success, both financially and in tons per square inch. I’ve been choking down this green concoction made from two handfuls of fresh spinach leaves, a leaf or two of kale, a tomato, a banana, a mittenful of frozen berries, and a few cups of water. I blast it in the blender and slurp it down. Surprisingly tasty. Can’t detect the kale at all.

Drinking my salad just part of the plan. I'm also trying to get more exercise in each day. Well, at this stage, I’m trying to spring my motivation from the witness protection program. I HATE exercising. But I know it’s good for me. So I’ll do it. Kind of like drinking kale.

Made other slight adjustments. Using smaller plates. Drinking more water. Less of that sugary, toxic junk in my coffee. Small but noticeable changes.

I’ve already lost 3 pounds. And that’s with barely trying. Looking forward to the new me.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Sermon: Epiphany 2C

Sermon: Epiphany 2C from Good Shepherd on Vimeo.



Text:

Those who know me know that I don’t do math. At least not well. I used to be ashamed of my inability to do algebra. It didn’t help matters that I once had a math teacher who seemed to think that my disabling lack of talent in doing long division in my head was some sort of character flaw.

Nor am I good with my hands. I don’t even own tools. If I have a leaky facet I’d rather pay someone a couple dollars to do the job right than have me fuddle about, get water all over the floor, hurl the f-word at the pipes, making things worse, before calling the plumber anyway.

Sometimes I’m worried that I’m marooned on my brain’s right hemisphere. Left-brained thinking - the logical, rational side - leaves me stumped. Which makes me glad that to have Fern crunching the numbers and the Trustees hammering in nails. You don’t want me in the same city block as a spreadsheet or skill saw.

I used to feel guilty about my inability to handle fractions or change the oil in my car. I don’t anymore. I don’t care what people think. I’m just not good with numbers or tools. Those aren’t my gifts. I’m good at other things.

Through the process of learning what I am good at and not-so good at, I’ve discovered that...(whole thing here)

Monday, January 18, 2010

Belly Be Gone!


I have a modest proposal for you, dear reader. As you probably noticed, I’ve put on a couple pounds over the past few years. (No, really, I have! Seriously! I’m not carrying a bowling ball under my shirt!)

So, I’ve decided to do something about it. I’ve tried a negative incentive (last year I said that I’d donate $201 to the federal Conservative party if I didn’t reach my goal of getting into my size 34 jeans by Easter. I squeezed into said pants, only to gain the weight back - within a month).

So, I’m going to try a positive incentive this time. This is where you come in.

I’m asking you to sponsor me in my weight loss quest. Say, a dollar per pound (or $10 or $100, or....) and I will weigh myself on June 21 (first day of summer). If I’ve lost say, 30 pounds, you donate $30 to Canadian Lutheran World Relief via a special fund I’ll set up at Good Shepherd (to get a tax receipt).

To add further incentive. I’m going to challenge my brother to do the same; i.e., get people to sponsor his weight loss goal and raise money for a charity/nonprofit of his choice (Porn Star retirement fund?). Whoever raises the most money wins.

I’m going to weigh myself on Monday January 18 (later tonight) and again on June 21 (and, of course, regular weigh-ins throughout the coming months). And what ever the number of pounds lost, the sponsor (you) will donate to CLWR.

What say you? Will you help me meet my weight loss goal and raise funds for CLWR at the same time? Not to mention allowing me to have bragging rights over my brother....which, in itself, is priceless.

Let me know.

Thanks!

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

The Price of Being Human


I don’t know if I’m concerned or delighted that some folks in the church are complaining about the change to disposable communion glasses from washable glass cups. We made the decision to go to plastic because of H1N1 concerns; some of our seniors were worried that the bleach used to clean the glass cups couldn't strong arm that nasty virus. They didn’t want to end up on a cold, hard slab, because of someone’s infected slobber.

Basic ethical dilemma: Ease peoples’ H1N1 fears vs saving the planet. What’s an aspiring green church to do?

We made our decision to comfort the fearful vs stewarding God's creation.

But now we have a backlash. Not a big one. But noticeable.

“I’m not sure that filling landfills with plastic is what Jesus had in mind when he gave us the gift of communion.”

“We’re spending HOW MUCH on plastic cups when we have perfectly good, washable glass ones?”

“Since when doesn’t bleach kill germs?”

“Do we REALLY want to encourage peoples’ irrational fears?”

The list goes on...and on...and on...

At least we haven’t stopped shaking hands for the sharing of the peace, like some churches. Some churches have replaced handshaking with bowing. Others wave.

What’s next? A fist bump?

What I worry about with the health concerns in the church is that we’re moving away from our understanding of incarnation - the Word made Flesh that is within and around us.

Human contact is what it means to be alive, in relationship. In communion. It’s why Jesus came in the first place; so that God could feel what it’s like to be human. To touch another being. To feel the longing of another’s caress. To feel the joy of when the touch comes at last. And to return that joyful touch.

Yes, we need to take health precautions. That’s why we can’t walk five feet in our church without running into a hand sanitizer.

But we also need to remember who we are, and what our story is. Human connection is risky. We can get hurt. We can lose parts of our selves. We can get sick.

But isn’t that the price of love? And from what I remember, Jesus was willing to pay that price. And he asks us to follow in his steps. He’s just asking that we be human just as he was.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Sermon: Baptism of Jesus

We met John the Baptist in Advent. And we encounter him again today. And he’s in no better a mood now than he was then.

The folks who put the lectionary together left out the juicy bits. They took their scissors to the parts where John’s venom is most poisonous. John had a few choice words for King Herod and his wife. John didn’t like the fact that Herod married his brother’s wife. In fact, it was against Jewish law. And if Herod didn’t like John’s well-aimed preaching he should have taken it up God, not John. John was just doing his job.

It might have been that joltingly honest preaching that drew Jesus to John that morning at the Jordan River. John was refreshing. Unique. Different from other preachers who either told people what they wanted to hear, or lined their pockets with the pennies of little old ladies. John wasn’t warm and fuzzy. But you knew that he’d give you the straight goods when it came to the things of God.

That day, in the river of freedom, where thousands of years prior, God’s people crossed from slavery into the land that God promised them, was where Jesus joined himself to that saving story, where his mandate as God’s Son was given to him. Where the affirmation of the Almighty wrapped around him like sun-soaked blanket.

“You are my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased...” Who wouldn’t want to hear that from God? Or from any parent for that matter.

But lying underneath this affirmation of divine was a summons. A calling that might have made Jesus’ blood turn to...(whole thing here)

Friday, December 25, 2009

Sermon: Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve 2009 Semon from Good Shepherd on Vimeo.



Text here:

Joseph had to make his way to his ancestral home. And I’m sure he wasn’t happy about it. It was long trip. His wife was pregnant. He probably didn’t have a whole lot of cash in his wallet. But the government wanted him where his family tree was planted.

We’re often told that we’re supposed to be “home” for Christmas. But sometimes I wonder just where that should be. As one whose lived in three different provinces, moved into countless apartments and houses, paid rent to way too many landlords, I wonder what “home” really looks like.

Tonight is a reminder that “home” is kind of fluid. It’s not as fixed as we might like to think. Some of us might not even know what we mean by “home.”

Sometimes, by “home” we mean a sense of the familiar, a feeling of safety and security. A place where we can be truly ourselves, we can forget to wipe our feet at the front door. We can belch at the dinner table and someone will still pass us the potatoes, although with a snide remark. Home means stability. A rootedness that we don’t find anywhere else. A connection to our past.

If that’s what we’re looking for then I wonder if Christmas is really the place we find it. Christmas is a story about...(whole thing here)

Merry Christmas! Here's St. John Chrysostom's Christmas Sermon


BEHOLD a new and wondrous mystery. My ears resound to the Shepherd’s song, piping no soft melody, but chanting full forth a heavenly hymn. The Angels sing. The Archangels blend their voice in harmony. The Cherubim hymn their joyful praise. The Seraphim exalt His glory. All join to praise this holy feast, beholding the Godhead here on earth, and man in heaven. He Who is above, now for our redemption dwells here below; and he that was lowly is by divine mercy raised.

Bethlehem this day resembles heaven; hearing from the stars the singing of angelic voices; and in place of the sun, enfolds within itself on every side, the Sun of justice. And ask not how: for where God wills, the order of nature yields. For He willed, He had the power, He descended, He redeemed; all things yielded in obedience to God. This day He Who is, is Born; and He Who is, becomes what He was not. For when He was God, He became man; yet not departing from the Godhead that is His. Nor yet by any loss of divinity became He man, nor through increase became He God from man; but being the Word He became flesh, His nature, because of impassability, remaining unchanged.

And so the kings have come, and they have seen the heavenly King that has come upon the earth, not bringing with Him Angels, nor Archangels, nor Thrones, nor Dominations, nor Powers, nor Principalities, but, treading a new and solitary path, He has come forth from a spotless womb.

Since this heavenly birth cannot be described, neither does His coming amongst us in these days permit of too curious scrutiny. Though I know that a Virgin this day gave birth, and I believe that God was begotten before all time, yet the manner of this generation I have learned to venerate in silence and I accept that this is not to be probed too curiously with wordy speech. For with God we look not for the order of nature, but rest our faith in the power of Him who works.

What shall I say to you; what shall I tell you? I behold a Mother who has brought forth; I see a Child come to this light by birth. The manner of His conception I cannot comprehend.

Nature here rested, while the Will of God labored. O ineffable grace! The Only Begotten, Who is before all ages, Who cannot be touched or be perceived, Who is simple, without body, has now put on my body, that is visible and liable to corruption. For what reason? That coming amongst us he may teach us, and teaching, lead us by the hand to the things that men cannot see. For since men believe that the eyes are more trustworthy than the ears, they doubt of that which they do not see, and so He has deigned to show Himself in bodily presence, that He may remove all doubt.

Christ, finding the holy body and soul of the Virgin, builds for Himself a living temple, and as He had willed, formed there a man from the Virgin; and, putting Him on, this day came forth; unashamed of the lowliness of our nature’. For it was to Him no lowering to put on what He Himself had made. Let that handiwork be forever glorified, which became the cloak of its own Creator. For as in the first creation of flesh, man could not be made before the clay had come into His hand, so neither could this corruptible body be glorified, until it had first become the garment of its Maker.

What shall I say! And how shall I describe this Birth to you? For this wonder fills me with astonishment. The Ancient of days has become an infant. He Who sits upon the sublime and heavenly Throne, now lies in a manger. And He Who cannot be touched, Who is simple, without complexity, and incorporeal, now lies subject to the hands of men. He Who has broken the bonds of sinners, is now bound by an infants bands. But He has decreed that ignominy shall become honor, infamy be clothed with glory, and total humiliation the measure of His Goodness.

For this He assumed my body, that I may become capable of His Word; taking my flesh, He gives me His spirit; and so He bestowing and I receiving, He prepares for me the treasure of Life. He takes my flesh, to sanctify me; He gives me His Spirit, that He may save me.

Come, then, let us observe the Feast. Truly wondrous is the whole chronicle of the Nativity. For this day the ancient slavery is ended, the devil confounded, the demons take to flight, the power of death is broken, paradise is unlocked, the curse is taken away, sin is removed from us, error driven out, truth has been brought back, the speech of kindliness diffused, and spreads on every side, a heavenly way of life has been ‘in planted on the earth, angels communicate with men without fear, and men now hold speech with angels.

Why is this? Because God is now on earth, and man in heaven; on every side all things commingle. He became Flesh. He did not become God. He was God. Wherefore He became flesh, so that He Whom heaven did not contain, a manger would this day receive. He was placed in a manger, so that He, by whom all things arc nourished, may receive an infant’s food from His Virgin Mother. So, the Father of all ages, as an infant at the breast, nestles in the virginal arms, that the Magi may more easily see Him. Since this day the Magi too have come, and made a beginning of withstanding tyranny; and the heavens give glory, as the Lord is revealed by a star.

To Him, then, Who out of confusion has wrought a clear path, to Christ, to the Father, and to the Holy Ghost, we offer all praise, now and for ever. Amen.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Like Any Given Sunday


Every year Christmas sermons get harder to write. At least that’s been my experience. Christmas is the Super Bowl of church, the one day of the year we can be guaranteed a full house. Don’t say Easter gets people through the door. I’ve preached at half-empty churches on Resurrection Day.

Some pastors like to say that Easter is the High Point of the church year, the game seven of world series, the Stanley Cup finals of the ecclesial world, opening night on Broadway.

That may be true theologically, but it’s not true practically. Some theological wags say that Christmas is less threatening than Easter because Christmas is about a baby, and what’s so scary about a baby? While Easter is about God turning the world upside down, defeating the forces of sin, death, and devil, the inauguration of the New Creation ; an event that demands a response from the worshipper. After all, how can one be confronted with the powers of the Almighty hitting alt-ctl-del on the world, and NOT respond in faith?

Sheesh. These folks need to get over themselves. I think Christmas is more popular than Easter because we get stuff, not because people are threatened by resurrection. Presents make the holiday. Not the story.

It would be nice if it were the reverse. But, sadly, I don’t think it is. Not in our culture.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn this into an anti-consumerist keep-Christ-in-Christmas, Jesus-is-the-main-thing rant (although that would be fun). I can’t get on my high horse because I like getting stuff at Christmas too. Everyone does. We grouch like Charlie Brown over the consumer-driven holiday, but still dutifully line up at the Wal-Mart checkout. We whine about the corporate take-over of Christmas, but come Christmas morning, the homes of most Christians look like a Sears commercial.

That’s why sermon writing gets harder for me each year. I have trouble penetrating the celebratory fog that obscures the Nativity story. Even my own fog.

But one year, two beloved and long-time members of the church died the morning of Christmas Eve. That day, the sermon wrote itself because I had to think about what the festival of the Incarnation really means for us. If Jesus is Emmanuel - God with us - then what did that say about the grief we were all feeling?

And then I got thinking that, even if visitors to our little congregation didn’t know the two women who died that morning, they were bringing their own pain and grief with them. They came to hear the story and sing some songs.

And maybe the the bible readings and Christmas carols were mere accessories to make their Christmas celebrations complete, they came to CHURCH to hear them. They were compelled to be with a community of God’s people to listen to God’s sacred story; and with in story they hear the Word proclaimed. The Word does it’s job when it reaches peoples’ ears.

So, maybe that’s where I have to begin this Christmas - at the intersection of the Christmas story and peoples’ lives.

But then again, how is that different from any given Sunday?

Friday, December 18, 2009

Another Quote of the Day

When I love God I love the beauty of bodies, the rhythm of movements, the shining of eyes, the embraces, the feelings, the scents, the sounds of all this protean creation. When I love you, my God, I want to embrace it all, for I love you with all my senses in the creations of your love. In all the things that encounter me, you are waiting for me.

For a long time, I looked for you within myself, and crept into the shell of my soul, protecting myself with an armour of unapproachability. But you were outside—outside myself—and enticed me out of the narrowness of my heart into the broad place of love for life. So I came out of myself and found my soul in my senses, and my own self in others.

The experience of God deepens the experiences of life. It does not reduce them, for it awakens the unconditional Yes to life. The more I love God the more gladly I exist. The more immediately and wholly I exist, the more I sense the living God, the inexhaustible well of life, and life’s eternity.

—Jurgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life, p. 98