Thursday, September 26, 2013

Kirk Night: Ephesians 4-6

Want to know what you missed last night at Kirk Night?  Here is but a blurb about what was covered, discussed, and prayed.  You can pick up the 'hand outs' here at church.  They are located on one of the tables in the parlor.


We also watched this video that can be found by clicking here.

Some thoughts:
  • Our gifts are beautiful.  They aren't ours to keep to ourselves.  Rather, we are to share them with others.  
  • Ephesians 4-6 is a much needed down-to-earth practical application of how we can live out our call as the church, using our gifts to build up the church.
  • From the beginning of chapter 4 the author wants the church to know of this calling.  The allusion to baptism suggests that this [chapter 4] is an early Christian baptismal credo enshrining the chief elements of a confession of faith made in the rite of initiation.
  • Ultimately we each of have a unique calling and yet, are all of the same call from God.  What is important to remember about our call and our gifts is that these gifts are to equip others for ministry and to build up the body until unity and maturity are achieved.
  • Paul's use of 'the body' as a metaphor for the church is beautiful in that the community of faith is not complete unless all members are present.  Each body part, each person, is a gift and needed to carry out the ministry and mission of God.
  • No longer are we to live 'the old life.'  Rather, we are to live 'the new life,' we are to live as Christ.  This new way in Christ, which is imaged by the metaphor of changing clothes and the image of being marked with  seal, reminds us of the mystery which happens in our baptisms.  Baptism then points us back to the grace of God expressed in Jesus Christ, who died for us and who was raised for us.
  • We found the video clip of the pastor to be troublesome.  We discussed the importance of biblical interpretation and knowing context and particularities.
  • It was discussed how verse 5.21 is often missing in many translations.  This verse is important because it sets into context how we are to be submissive to one another under Christ's authority.
  • What is to be remembered is that all Christians are under Christ's headship and are to 'submit' to one another for Christ's sake.


Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Kirk Night in October

[Below is the article that will be published in the LINK for October.  You will also find out what schedule of events for each Kirk Night in October below the article.]

Kirk Night:  A Celebration

            Lately my study has been a bit of disarray.  In addition to those spilling out of their temporary box homes, sprawled across my desk and table have been books some of you are familiar with.  These books are filled with pictures:  pages and pages of pictures evidencing how you, as a community of faith, have collectively lived out God’s calling in your lives.  While clothing styles and hair-dos have changed, it is quite clear that the ethos, the spirit, of First Presbyterian Church has not changed.
            While pictures help us put faces and capturing those holy moments of life, they cannot tell our entire story.  Thankfully, a few years ago, the church complied a book closely detailing the history of our church.  This history has become an invaluable resource for me to learn the beautiful story of this congregation.  I’ve enjoyed ‘getting’ to know the former pastors by reading past LINK articles and bulletins, especially Bruce, and by listening to each of you share stories about our pastors from Burns to Blackburn.  Our history is rich, our stories are compelling, and the love of God is noticeably present.
            Gearing up for fall, and inspired by my predecessor’s faithful work, I recently voiced some wonderings about our Wednesday night activities. This conversation went a little something like this.
            “Hey, what is the Wednesday night gathering called?”
“Well, Celebration.  I think.”
Another person chimed in. “No, I thought we changed it to ‘In-Joy.’”
Still another, “I honestly don’t know what the Wednesday night is called.  Probably just Wednesday night.”
I appreciated this honesty, and in fact, welcomed this confusion.
            Our church history book, put together by the History Committee a few years ago, tells us quite a lot about this particular weekly gathering. The first note about a mid-week gathering came during Rev. Salansky’s tenure. In 1977, this Wednesday gathering for children gained the name “Celebration.”  While the structure and content of our Wednesday nights has evolved, the purpose has remained the same.  Education and spiritual formation both lie at the heart of the Wednesday gathering. 

Eventually, this question was turned on me. 
            “What do you think it should be called?”
After some reflection, I considered a term that is as much a part of Presbyterian history as a pitch-in or potluck: “Kirk Night.” 
            As if we needed yet another name, the puzzled face indicated to me that I my pronouncement required some contextual commentary.  In Scottish dialect, the church is called the ‘Kirk.’  Found in the Book of Confessions, part I of the Constitution of the PC (USA) is the Scots Confession.  This confession, written by influential Presbyterian minister John Knox, denotes our connection to the word 'Kirk.’  Thus, Wednesday Nights, a night of Celebration, is called Kirk Night, or, Church Night.
            While the name we use for our gathering is important, nothing is more important than our time together.  We are reminded in scripture that when we gather as a family, even if it is just 2 or 3 of us, Christ is present. 
            And that my friends, is reason enough, to have a celebration.

See you at the Kirk House,

Adam
_________________________________________________________________________________ 

October 2:  Kemmerer Village Night—Adult Mission Night
October 9:  A Hymn Sing
October 16:  Food for Thought:  A Night of Sharing Dishes
October 23:  Our Columbarium and the Hope of Resurrection
October 30:  Celebration Through Story Telling:  A Night of Re-membering

October 2nd:  In Matthew Jesus says, “What you do to the least of these you do unto me.”  This Kirk Night, we will have the opportunity to explore how Kemmerer Village in Assumption, Illinois is doing just that.  You are invited to learn more about this Presbyterian ministry, and how you can get involved in the upcoming Adult Mission Trip to Kemmerer Village on Saturday, October 19.  (You can learn more about Kemmerer Village by clicking here.]

October 9th:  Has it been a while since we sang your favorite hymn?  Is there a particular hymn of which you just can’t get enough?  This Kirk Night, we’ll sing our favorite hymns and share stories about why they mean so much to us.  Whether you’re a skilled vocalist or can’t carry a tune in a bucket, come for a night of singing and sharing songs!

October 16th:  Are you interested in how food relates to justice?  Do you have a favorite recipe for those green beans from your garden? This week at Kirk Night we will give thanks for our food and our church garden, while exploring the importance and impact of ‘food justice,’ both globally AND locally.  We will also discuss the Food Bank, and how they are working to end hunger in Logan County. You are invited to bring a local dish to share for supper.

October 23rd:  Adam and the Columbarium Committee invite you to Kirk Night as we hear more about the Columbarium Ministry of First Presbyterian Church.  We’ll learn more about our Columbarium located in the Union Chapel here at church, and will have a brief theological discussion of cremation and resurrection. 

October 30th:  We get to know our friends and neighbors by sharing intentional quality time. This Kirk Night, we’ll extend this practice to our church! Exploring our church photo albums and years of church directories, we will share our stories about First Presbyterian Church, and what we love about this place and one another.  Adam cannot wait to hear about how each of you came to this place, and what this community means to you! Bring your stories, your photos, your memories, and most importantly, yourself!


Monday, September 16, 2013

"Rejoice, There is Joy": A Sermon


Grammatical Caveat: Because sermons are meant to be preached and are therefore prepared with the emphasis on verbal presentation (i.e., are written for the ear), the written accounts occasionally deviate from proper and generally accepted principles of grammar and punctuation. Most often, these deviations are not mistakes per se, but are indicative of an attempt to aid the listener in the delivery of the sermon.

“Rejoice, There is Joy”
Luke 15.1-10
First Presbyterian Church

Sometimes, it feels that we have all but lost hope in our shared humanity.  Simply by turning the TV, the floating heads will only affirm this sense of lost hope as we watch report after report of how the violence of the world is spreading further and further to the east and to the west.  History supports this lack of hope especially on a day like today when on this date 50 years ago, at a Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, 4 little girls lost their lives to a racially charged act by a person who had apparently lost their imagination.  Indeed, hope for peace on earth at times seems like a lost cause.
Then there are the more personal aspects of being lost.  Like the time I managed to slip away from my parents in the souvenir shop at the Royal Gorge in Colorado.  To this day, my mom reminds me of how scared she was when she turned and I wasn’t next to her as we toured what is one giant hole in the ground.  I guess I can see why she go a little nervous.
To be lost is a singularly terrifying experience.  To lose anything produces a large amount of adrenaline that sends the blood pumping.  We have all experienced loss, in one way or another.  In every circumstance, from keys and cell phones and that cooler that is still down in the Christian Ed Building from the Bar-B-Q, to love and life, being confronted with loss forces us to be mindful of our weaknesses, and often exposes our vulnerabilities.  There is nothing worse than when we lose something that means the world to us, something special, of great significance.  Boy or girl, young or old, rich or poor, in whatever state we find ourselves, all of us are intimately familiar with the experience of loss.
Perhaps this is the reason why Jesus tells these two stories about a lost sheep and a lost coin.  After all within his historical context and social location, a person who was “lost” was one who did not and should not re-enter society with those who considered themselves “found.” Jesus uses the experience of loss to create a new model for living; an integrated community of people who could rejoice when those who were “lost” manage to find their way back to their community.
            Within this story, we find Jesus surrounded by a crowd full of both “lost” souls (like sinners and tax collectors) and Jesus’ uncorrupted critics or those who considered themselves found, or the ones who maintain the rules. And it is here, on his way to Jerusalem, as the unruly crowd starts to press in, and as the sinners and tax collectors begin to gather among the disciples and move closer to Jesus, the indictments are audible: “Can you believe it?  This man eats with sinners and tax collectors.  Surely, he has lost his mind.”
            It was this accusation that stops Jesus in his tracks and leads to the first parable about a lost sheep.  Unlike a similar story in Matthew, where a sheep is simply astray, here in Luke, the sheep is lost, as are the sinners who come to hear Jesus, and this lost sheep is sought until it is found. The lost sheep merely frames the introductory question of the larger parable: how do we treat things that are lost?  The answer is self-evident:  A valuable sheep that is lost merits one’s full attention until it is found.  Buried in this explanation is the implied assumption that during the search for the one, the other sheep are left to their own devices and ‘in the wilderness.‘  For those who could afford the 100 sheep, it would have been a risky and unwise business move to go find just one lost sheep.  In light of these realities, it is difficult to imagine that those in the audience would have readily accepted the risk as worth taking to recover even a valuable animal. 
            But what Luke does next and what is so important for us to hear, characterizes not only the lost sheep, but also, the one who is experiencing the loss. Luke elaborates in considerable detail on the joy that follows when one who is lost may become found; rather than being angry or upset, the owner of the sheep gathers it up, places it gently upon his or her shoulders, and returns it to the fold.  Upon this return, the owner summons the community to celebrate this find.  This richly textured description of celebration leaves us to conclude one of two things:  either the shepherd is foolish or the owner loves the lost sheep and will risk everything, including his/her own life, until the sheep is found.[1]  While it might be acceptable to celebrate the return of one who was lost, Jesus puts a significant damper on the evening by taking this story a step further. He explains that there is more joy in this one’s return than is found in the 99 that did what they were supposed to do, and always remained “found.” 
            Remaining controversial by changing gears and changing genders, Jesus tells one more parable to drive home his last point.  Instead of a lost sheep, he narrates a woman’s lost coin.  When this woman realizes she has lost one of her ten coins, she lights an oil lamp—because her house is very dark and the coin is quite small. When she still cannot spot it, she begins to frantically sweep the floor until she hears the coin ring against the floor.  While subjectively different, in this story, like the other about the sheep, the woman experiencing loss doesn’t give up.[2]  Desperately and furiously, she searches until it is found.  Jesus again pushes this story to its limits, asserting that the joy of finding is so abundant that it cannot be contained. One person, alone cannot adequately celebrate: there must be a party to which others are invited.  In this same thematic vein, Jesus invites even his critics to join him and all of heaven in celebration of finding the lost. 
            This is where we are left: with the joy of God after finding the one that has been lost.  Jesus tells these stories to remind us that finding and restoring that which is lost gives pleasure to God as well as all who are about God’s business.  These parables invite us not only to celebrate in the finding of the lost, but to remember to allow ourselves to be found by God as well.  These are stories about God’s desire to be in community with us, and they remind us that no matter what we have done or where we have been, God is seeking us out, searching to find us.  Perhaps this is the contemplative aspect of these stories: the invitation to bask in the love of God who is shepherd, and who risks it all to find us.  This love, which is not cautious nor risk averse, is the scandal of the gospel, and the scandal of the incarnation.
            Albeit comforting to know we are never beyond God’s finding, there is also a call to action in this text.  We must recognize God’s relentless pursuit of us, and think about what that means for our ministries.  If God is not quick to give up on us, why then are we so quick to give up on others, particularly those who we consider uncomfortable or “bad company?”  What makes today’s gospel lesson so uncomfortable and outlandish for me is that Jesus indicates that no sheep, even those deemed unfit, should be permanently branded by and lost even to themselves. That only ensures they remain lost. Lost coins and lost sheep cannot restore themselves: Jesus tells us, through these stories, that in the same way, neither can lost people. Thus, when people are lost, regardless of when and how and why they lost their way, it’s up to the community, not simply to the lost individuals, to go and help them find their way home.
            We all know the searing pain of loss, but we also know the joy that emerges when we find whatever it is we are looking for.  Even more, we all know the sorrow that comes when what has been lost cannot be found as individuals and as a community.  With the knowledge that we are beyond being lost by God, our calling is to ensure that those who feel “lost” among us are never left alone to believe that this is their permanent state. As God finds and celebrates us when we are lost, we also should do this for those who wander, feeling lost among us.  We are to be the hope for what seems like a lost cause.
            Friends in Christ, rejoice, there is joy in being found.  Let us go forth and share this joy with others.  May it be so.  Amen.




[1] Luke Timothy Johnson.  “The Gospel of Luke.” In the Sacra Pagina Vol. 3.  Ed. Daniel J. Harrington.  (Collegeville:  The Liturgical Press, 1991), 241.
[2] Fred B. Craddock.  “Luke.” In Interpretation:  A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching.  Ed.  James Luther, (Louisville:  John Knox Press, 1990), 185.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Sunday's Sermon: To Be Known

Grammatical Caveat: Because sermons are meant to be preached and are therefore prepared with the emphasis on verbal presentation (i.e., are written for the ear), the written accounts occasionally deviate from proper and generally accepted principles of grammar and punctuation. Most often, these deviations are not mistakes per se, but are indicative of an attempt to aid the listener in the delivery of the sermon.


“To Be Known”
Psalm 139. 1-6, 13-18
First Presbyterian Church

If I were to ask: “how do you get to know someone?”  I imagine your responses would vary.  Some of us would say that we enjoy getting to know someone over coffee or supper. Some of us may remember the days when a new neighbor moving in meant making a pie or a casserole, not only to communicate a welcome, but to begin laying the foundation for a relationship.  Believe it or not, it was not so long ago when we actually knew our neighbors:  not simply by the car they drove, or their affinity for Boys-II-Men (based on the frequency and volume of their music), but by person, and by name.
Now, in 21st century America, almost all of us will at some point (if not today, then before the end of this week) meet someone who will let you know just how busy they are.  The default response to the question “how are you?” has become some variation of: “Busy!” “So busy.” or “Crazy busy.” It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint. As a result, the stock response is a kind of congratulation: “That’s a good problem to have,” or “Better than the opposite.”  Our busy schedules are subtle reflections of the expectations society has placed on us: one of our most basic beliefs is that busier is better. As a result, getting to know one another has become a bit more complicated.
These expectations aren’t limited to our social relationships.  In fact, this idea of filling our schedules “to the max” carries over into our professional lives.  How easy it is to be brought down by these expectations that are often imposed not externally, but by ourselves.  We must be here so we can do that later; we must run her there but be back here by this time so we can get him there.  Between practices and rehearsals, meetings and manicures, our lives and our schedules, voluntarily and involuntarily, often prevent us from knowing and being known by those around us.  It is as if some of us have forgotten how to make pies.
Unfortunately, this busyness can carry over into our faith community and the way we do church.  To be honest, the Gospel is quite demanding.  Just in our text today we are told to come to Jesus and, then hate those we love; we are to pick up our crosses and continue following, all while becoming disciples.  If you can remember where we’ve traveled thus far with Jesus, we have been told us to go, but to leave our things behind. Last week, he told us to have a banquet, but invite those we don’t know. If those aren’t demanding enough, Jesus even says, ‘Be perfect as I am perfect.’ The line in today’s gospel reading is really the clincher: if you want to be my disciples, says Jesus, give up all your possessions.
The demands of Christ are bold, and when we consider his ability to remain faithful to the call placed on his life, we may become discouraged.  What is important not to forget or to lose in translation is the theme underlying Christ’s ministry. At the heart of Jesus’ call to the church to be Christ’s body is the call to care for everyone, to make space where people can come and be known. Our ultimate “call” is to be known by one another.  Much like showing up uninvited on our new neighbors door with a fresh meatloaf, this task can be trying and intimidating.  To really get to know others means we have to begin to live for them, and this requires us to give of ourselves to them.[1]  This process yields unexpected results.  As we begin to live for others, we are suddenly able to face and accept our own limitations.  As we enter deeper into meaningful relationships with one another we will gradually begin to see that no one expects us to be ‘gods.’  We will see that we are human, like everyone else, and that we all have weaknesses and deficiencies, which play an important part in all our lives.  When we take the time to slow down, to become less busy, and truly engage one another, we are reminded that in order to be whole, we need others and that others need us.  It is then, in our shared humanity grounded in God’s love will begin to see our perspective change and begin to recognize that right before us, staring us in the eye, is one who bears the image of Christ, who bears the image of God. 
Our psalm text today invites us to do jus this:  to consider Christ’s gaze upon our lives, recognizing that when we stare into the gentle eyes of Christ, we peer into the face of God, in whose image and likeness we are made.  As we share in Christ’s ministry, we must also not overlook the importance of entering into the overwhelming presence of God’s love.  It is in, and within, and through this love where we come to learn that we are not islands in and of ourselves, but we have come into being, as individuals and as a community, by and through this love. 
Within all of Scripture, Psalm 139 is the most personal expression of the Hebrew Scriptures radical monotheism.  A doctrinal classic, Psalm 139 reflects an understanding of the human as enclosed in divine reality.  From the opening vocative to the final word, this prayer confesses an existence in terms of the activity of God.[2]  By concentrating on this dimension of God’s relationship with humanity, the psalmist challenges our thoughts and experiences by disorienting our concern away from our shortcomings and reorienting us to the wonderful reality of God’s furious longing to be in relationship with us.  In this psalm, God is not presented as abstract, or as a distant God who worries on about Gods self.  Rather, Psalm 139 uses relational language, speaking as thou and I, to express God’s intimate relationship to the psalmist, God in relationship to us. 
All of which comes to a climax in verse 13 when the psalmist paints a remarkable picture that provides an imaginative description of God the weaver, and God the potter, weaving and shaping each of us even before we were born.  In this line we recognize how from the beginning God has called us and claimed us; God has known us and has guided us; God has awakened and inspired us and God wants us to be known, to be ourselves.  Ultimately this prayer reassures us that within our own brokenness, within our own busy-ness, the lens through which God views us is one of gentleness and grace, it is a vision that is not meant to be terrifying, but empowering, enthusing wisdom and trust to those who want nothing else than to be led in the way everlasting.  Psalm 139 is a prayer that will lead you and me and all who make it their own into the presence of God, where we are best known and where our hearts are truly made warm by God’s love. 
When we reach that place, when we have become so known by God, we will be able to see Christ in all we meet.  And to see Christ is to see God and to see God is to see the magnificence in all of humanity.
If you would like to read more about
this icon done by Andrei Reublev,
click here.  
On your bulletin is an icon of Jesus painted in the 15th century.  Christian theologian Henri Nouwen offered these words upon contemplating the gentle face of Jesus that emerges from behind the chipped and fading paint, words to hold on to as we go from this place:  “The eyes of Jesus are neither sentimental nor judgmental, neither pious nor harsh, neither sweet nor severe. They are the eyes of God, who sees us in our most hidden places and loves us with a divine mercy.”[3] 
            Friends in Christ, may you come to know more fully the love of God; may you find peace knowing that God has searched you and knows you even in the midst of your busyness; that God has fearfully and wonderfully made you and calls you good; and brothers and sisters, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, may you begin to view the world with the same divine mercy through which God, in Christ views you.  May you stop to be known and allow others to be known by you.  May we come to embrace God’s knowledge of us.
            May it be so.  Amen.




[1] Thomas Merton.  An Invitation to the Contemplative Life.  Ed. Wayne Simsic.  (Ijamsville:  The Word Among Us Press), 110.
[2] James Luther Mays.  Interpretation:  Psalms.”  (Louisville:  John Knox Press, 1989), 426.
[3] Henri J.M. Nouwen.  “Behold the Beauty of the Lord:  Praying with Icons.”  (Notre Dame:  Ave Maria Press, 2007), 79.