Last Sunday's Gospel reading tells the story of Jesus calming the wind and sea when his followers in the boat fear for their lives. It must have been a heck of a storm for these seasoned fishermen to have been so afraid. The Sea of Galilee on which they fished almost daily was known for its quick and nasty storms, but surely they were very experienced in dealing with them. But not this time.
Their boat was likely about twenty feet long with a single mast and sail if it is like the remains of one found a few years ago when the Sea was very low due to drought. At twenty feet and shallow draft, it would have been not unlike a cork bobbing and tossing on the waves. I can imagine them trying everything. But finally they admit defeat.
Oddly, though they are later surprised he could actually calm the storm, they finally turn to Jesus. They wake him and chide him for not caring that they are all about to perish. We know what happens next. The storm is calmed.
Is an obvious message for us to be found here? When our storms are doing their worst, we turn to Jesus last? And we even know that he can help! Interesting, huh?
Peace,
Jerry+
P.S. Today is post number 100. Wonder if anybody except my son is reading these?
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
I'm OK Now
Rodney Dangerfield began most of his comic bits with, "I'm OK now, but you should have seen me last week." I know just how he felt.
A week ago today, I was involved in a car accident that totalled both cars. I was hit in the driver's side, taking out the door and the left front fender--and obviously lots more. Just didn't see the car coming and she hit me at about 35 mph. She was unhurt, for which I am very thankful.
My left hand was hit by the side air bag because when I saw the car, I threw my hands in front of my face thinking there would be glass flying. It sustained significant bruises and one of the vessels on my pointer was ruptured so there was blood. Later I found seat belt bruises too. And my neck and right shoulder sustained soft tissue injuries.
I don't remember a time when I have been any more afraid than when I saw her SUV and knew a crash was inevitable. I've joked and told people that I said either "O God!" or O shit!" The truth is, I only know I said something, but I don't know what. People were immediately at the car to help me climb out the passenger's side door. My glasses had been knocked off and I couldn't find them, so someone climbed in the car and helped with that.
The police were almost instantly at the site--must have been in the neighborhood; we didn't even have to call. I was very shaken and my finger kept bleeding so they asked if I wanted an ambulance. I didn't. Somewhere in the process, I called Mike, my son, who came to take me to the minor medical center and take me home. He was calm and calming, and of course, supportive. In fact, the only people I had to deal with who were a bit, how shall I put it--uncaring (?) was the tow truck driver who required $125 in cash before towing the car. But everyone else, insurance claim agents, rental car agents, medical personnel, police, the bank, the car dealer, even the other driver, were all polite, concerned, caring, and helpful.
The past week is kind of a blur. Multiple times an hour, I still see the SUV bearing down on me, but the emotions are leveling off. Driving feels like it did when I was a learner: nothing is automatic and the "enemy" is everywhere. I know this will eventually pass.
Carol, my wife, has been a champ. Even though this is going to cost us some bucks that are a little harder to come by these days to replace the car and an increase in insurance payments, she keeps saying, "The main thing is you're OK." That is the main thing. Nobody was seriously injured. The worst we have to deal with is inconvenience.
Oh, in the midst of all this confusion, straightline winds knocked out power out for 24 hours.
Is this a parable for those of us who are still working, who aren't missing meals, whose power is still not still out five days later, whose health and welfare are in good shape? Perhaps we whine about the wrong stuff. I'm OK now and I feel a deeper sense of appreciation for being alive and well. I thank God for that. Going forward, I'll try to keep that the main thing.
Peace,
Jerry+
A week ago today, I was involved in a car accident that totalled both cars. I was hit in the driver's side, taking out the door and the left front fender--and obviously lots more. Just didn't see the car coming and she hit me at about 35 mph. She was unhurt, for which I am very thankful.
My left hand was hit by the side air bag because when I saw the car, I threw my hands in front of my face thinking there would be glass flying. It sustained significant bruises and one of the vessels on my pointer was ruptured so there was blood. Later I found seat belt bruises too. And my neck and right shoulder sustained soft tissue injuries.
I don't remember a time when I have been any more afraid than when I saw her SUV and knew a crash was inevitable. I've joked and told people that I said either "O God!" or O shit!" The truth is, I only know I said something, but I don't know what. People were immediately at the car to help me climb out the passenger's side door. My glasses had been knocked off and I couldn't find them, so someone climbed in the car and helped with that.
The police were almost instantly at the site--must have been in the neighborhood; we didn't even have to call. I was very shaken and my finger kept bleeding so they asked if I wanted an ambulance. I didn't. Somewhere in the process, I called Mike, my son, who came to take me to the minor medical center and take me home. He was calm and calming, and of course, supportive. In fact, the only people I had to deal with who were a bit, how shall I put it--uncaring (?) was the tow truck driver who required $125 in cash before towing the car. But everyone else, insurance claim agents, rental car agents, medical personnel, police, the bank, the car dealer, even the other driver, were all polite, concerned, caring, and helpful.
The past week is kind of a blur. Multiple times an hour, I still see the SUV bearing down on me, but the emotions are leveling off. Driving feels like it did when I was a learner: nothing is automatic and the "enemy" is everywhere. I know this will eventually pass.
Carol, my wife, has been a champ. Even though this is going to cost us some bucks that are a little harder to come by these days to replace the car and an increase in insurance payments, she keeps saying, "The main thing is you're OK." That is the main thing. Nobody was seriously injured. The worst we have to deal with is inconvenience.
Oh, in the midst of all this confusion, straightline winds knocked out power out for 24 hours.
Is this a parable for those of us who are still working, who aren't missing meals, whose power is still not still out five days later, whose health and welfare are in good shape? Perhaps we whine about the wrong stuff. I'm OK now and I feel a deeper sense of appreciation for being alive and well. I thank God for that. Going forward, I'll try to keep that the main thing.
Peace,
Jerry+
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Trinity Sunday
Last Sunday was Trinity Sunday. This is the day when the Church is supposed to celebrate this distinctive Three-In-One doctrine of ours about the relationship between God as Father, God as Son, and God as Holy Spirit. Most clergy dread having to preach about this, and in my experience, most avoid it, choosing some other topic.
In the history of the Church, the issue of the relationship between these three entities hasn't always been agreed upon. Not until Nicea in 325 was any attempt made to have an official doctrine agreed on by all. Even then it didn't happen. Arians, a group of Christians who had a different idea about Jesus, were to be stamped out now that orthodoxy had been declared. It didn't work. Basically the Arian movement continued for another couple of centuries as "official" teaching in the Germanic areas of Europe in particular.
Not only that, a group known as monophysites (meaning one nature) continued for centuries and still exist in several regional churches, such as Egypt.
So what? Well in this time when so much is made of orthodoxy and fundamentalism is constantly clashing with other views, it's important to ask a question. Does the requirement for accepting the doctrine of the Trinity to be Christian apply to followers of Jesus before Nicea? And what about the Arians and monophysites? Oh, and what about the United Pentecostals, a modern Pentecostal denomination that rejects this doctrine too? Are we saying all these people aren't saved?
Well, of course we are, if by "we" we mean modern Christian fundamentalist (Pentecostals excepted). The rest of us? Heck, we don't really understand the doctrine anyway and in my experience, most Christians I've known are actually not trinitarian in their belief. They say the Creeds, but in the final analysis, they tend more toward the "three God" belief in practice.
All of which is to say, since Jesus seemed way more interested in how people lived than in what they believed, we might focus a little more attention on that too. Maybe we'd cheat less, fight less, steal less, murder less--you get the point. But, I could be wrong.
Peace,
Jerry+
In the history of the Church, the issue of the relationship between these three entities hasn't always been agreed upon. Not until Nicea in 325 was any attempt made to have an official doctrine agreed on by all. Even then it didn't happen. Arians, a group of Christians who had a different idea about Jesus, were to be stamped out now that orthodoxy had been declared. It didn't work. Basically the Arian movement continued for another couple of centuries as "official" teaching in the Germanic areas of Europe in particular.
Not only that, a group known as monophysites (meaning one nature) continued for centuries and still exist in several regional churches, such as Egypt.
So what? Well in this time when so much is made of orthodoxy and fundamentalism is constantly clashing with other views, it's important to ask a question. Does the requirement for accepting the doctrine of the Trinity to be Christian apply to followers of Jesus before Nicea? And what about the Arians and monophysites? Oh, and what about the United Pentecostals, a modern Pentecostal denomination that rejects this doctrine too? Are we saying all these people aren't saved?
Well, of course we are, if by "we" we mean modern Christian fundamentalist (Pentecostals excepted). The rest of us? Heck, we don't really understand the doctrine anyway and in my experience, most Christians I've known are actually not trinitarian in their belief. They say the Creeds, but in the final analysis, they tend more toward the "three God" belief in practice.
All of which is to say, since Jesus seemed way more interested in how people lived than in what they believed, we might focus a little more attention on that too. Maybe we'd cheat less, fight less, steal less, murder less--you get the point. But, I could be wrong.
Peace,
Jerry+
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Make Over
Surprise! I decided to do a make over on my blog. While mostly cosmetic I did add one feature. You'll find it on the right side of the screen titled "Books I'm Reading." I've listed two I'm reading right now. Both are related to Church History. I promise to also add novels--my guilty pleasure.
God's Secretaries is a fascinating book about the men who were the Translators (in those days they always capitalized the word) for James I, King of England following Elizabeth I. A little backgroud might help here. During Elizabeth's reign, the Puritan movement began in England. The Puritans were not all the same; in fact there were three distinct parties or groups.
Two groups could be called Non-Separatists. One group, by far the larger group, were those who favored keeping the episcopacy and reforming the liturgies, rites and customs to remove most of what was considered "popish." The second Non-Separatist group was composed of those who wanted liturgical reform as did the first, but much more sweeping. Plus, they wanted to adopt a Presbyterian form of government which would eliminate the bishops. This group eventually came to power under Oliver Cromwell and managed to eliminate bishops--and kings--for a time. Unfortunately there was also a Civil War involved before things got back on track.
The third group were the Separatists. These included those who eventually became Congregationalists, along with some Baptists. It was members of this group that we know as the Pilgrims, those who came to American in the early 17th century.
I say all that to say that when James came to power, the Puritans made a bid for reform and it was the Presbyterians who were leading the charge. James gave them a polite hearing, but had no intention of reforming the Church. He'd had a bad experience with Presbyterians in Scotland where he was king and didn't intend to repeat the problem. He appeased them by promising a revision of the Great Bible in English that had been produced under Henry VIII. This book is about his keeping that promise.
The Translators were a fascinating bunch of men--some very pious, some very flawed, but all very dedicated to the task and highly qualified to do the work. Using the Tyndale version on which the Great Bible was based and carefully reviewing all the available Greek and Hebrew manuscripts of the time, they completed their work in just a few years. This is considered to be the first translation done by a committee. All previous ones were the work of a single person, perhaps with a helper or two. Almost all subsequent translations have been done by committee which allows for more rigorous checks and balances. It's a very readable book and offers great insights into the process and the men behind it.
I've only just begun the other book, so perhaps more later.
Peace,
Jerry+
God's Secretaries is a fascinating book about the men who were the Translators (in those days they always capitalized the word) for James I, King of England following Elizabeth I. A little backgroud might help here. During Elizabeth's reign, the Puritan movement began in England. The Puritans were not all the same; in fact there were three distinct parties or groups.
Two groups could be called Non-Separatists. One group, by far the larger group, were those who favored keeping the episcopacy and reforming the liturgies, rites and customs to remove most of what was considered "popish." The second Non-Separatist group was composed of those who wanted liturgical reform as did the first, but much more sweeping. Plus, they wanted to adopt a Presbyterian form of government which would eliminate the bishops. This group eventually came to power under Oliver Cromwell and managed to eliminate bishops--and kings--for a time. Unfortunately there was also a Civil War involved before things got back on track.
The third group were the Separatists. These included those who eventually became Congregationalists, along with some Baptists. It was members of this group that we know as the Pilgrims, those who came to American in the early 17th century.
I say all that to say that when James came to power, the Puritans made a bid for reform and it was the Presbyterians who were leading the charge. James gave them a polite hearing, but had no intention of reforming the Church. He'd had a bad experience with Presbyterians in Scotland where he was king and didn't intend to repeat the problem. He appeased them by promising a revision of the Great Bible in English that had been produced under Henry VIII. This book is about his keeping that promise.
The Translators were a fascinating bunch of men--some very pious, some very flawed, but all very dedicated to the task and highly qualified to do the work. Using the Tyndale version on which the Great Bible was based and carefully reviewing all the available Greek and Hebrew manuscripts of the time, they completed their work in just a few years. This is considered to be the first translation done by a committee. All previous ones were the work of a single person, perhaps with a helper or two. Almost all subsequent translations have been done by committee which allows for more rigorous checks and balances. It's a very readable book and offers great insights into the process and the men behind it.
I've only just begun the other book, so perhaps more later.
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
A Pentecost Story: Part 2
If you read the previous post, you know it was about the mysterious working of the Spirit. This is a follow on to that.
Today is my day to lead worship at The Parkview Retirement Community. As I always do, I prepared a sermon in manuscript form. Usually this gets done at least a week in advance, and this time was no exception. But after the event described in the last post, I kept having thoughts about ditching the sermon and telling the story of Linda and the drawing. After thinking it was a good idea, I'd think, "But the sermon is already done and it's good, so..." Then the urge to substitute the story would return. Last night as I gathered all the Eucharistic vessels into my kit and got out my alb and stole, I decided definitively to do the prepared sermon.
With everything laid out last night, when it was time to leave this morning, it was a simple matter of gathering my little stack of bulletins, service book, vestments and heading for the car. Which I did. When I arrived at The Parkview and began setting up, I realized I didn't have the sermon. Usually the service leaflets, sermon and readings for the day are all together, but not this time. No sermon.
Okay. I can take a hint. Those who came to worship today heard the story about Linda and the drawing. They heard it along with the story of my indecision about sermon or story. Together these two little stories had more to say about the mysterious work of the Spirit than any sermon I might have written; plus they were very moved. So, Okay, I can take a hint.
Peace,
Jerry+
Today is my day to lead worship at The Parkview Retirement Community. As I always do, I prepared a sermon in manuscript form. Usually this gets done at least a week in advance, and this time was no exception. But after the event described in the last post, I kept having thoughts about ditching the sermon and telling the story of Linda and the drawing. After thinking it was a good idea, I'd think, "But the sermon is already done and it's good, so..." Then the urge to substitute the story would return. Last night as I gathered all the Eucharistic vessels into my kit and got out my alb and stole, I decided definitively to do the prepared sermon.
With everything laid out last night, when it was time to leave this morning, it was a simple matter of gathering my little stack of bulletins, service book, vestments and heading for the car. Which I did. When I arrived at The Parkview and began setting up, I realized I didn't have the sermon. Usually the service leaflets, sermon and readings for the day are all together, but not this time. No sermon.
Okay. I can take a hint. Those who came to worship today heard the story about Linda and the drawing. They heard it along with the story of my indecision about sermon or story. Together these two little stories had more to say about the mysterious work of the Spirit than any sermon I might have written; plus they were very moved. So, Okay, I can take a hint.
Peace,
Jerry+
Sunday, May 31, 2009
A Pentecost Story
You just never know. I dabble at being an artist. More than 30 years ago I had a creative spurt and produced several oils. I think I have the first ever in the attic; my younger son has a pair. A few years later, I painted a couple of more: one of Moses which I think eventually I threw away and a head of an old fisherman which I gave to a friend. Then nothing for years.
Somewhere around 2002 or 2003, our parish sponsored a charity auction of arts and crafts and I decided to try my hand again after more than 25 years of nothing. Surprisingly, my simple little works sold. Same thing next year with the same outcome. Then a dry spell again. It’s not that I don’t enjoy painting, I do, but like lots of other things I enjoy that have no sense of urgency about them, taking the time to create seems to always be a low priority. Plus, I don’t really think I’m very good so it’s easy to avoid doing something that doesn’t produce much. I’m always surprised when someone likes what I do, especially enough to spend money on it. Candidly, I thought at first it was just the novelty of one of the clergy painting—that plus the good cause the cost went toward.
A few weeks ago our current parish had a silent auction to raise money for my favorite charity—our mission work in Haiti. I decided it was time to dust off the paint box and knock out some stuff. I painted another in a series I had painted before, Tuscan landscape impressions. I’m really taken by the flame shaped poplar trees that are instant reminders of Italy. I also did a couple of others in acrylics. We were asked to set values for the work along with minimum bids. I set two of them at $150 values with $75 minimums. Frankly, I didn’t think they would sell plus I liked them enough that I was willing to take them home.
But today’s story isn’t about any of the paintings. I did a small pencil and pen drawing of a pair of doors set in a wall and intersected by another wall. The attention was on the doors with the stone walls only suggested by a few pencil lines. I probably spent more time on it than the others combined. Like the others, someone bought it. Today I learned who and why.
Her name is Linda. As she walked down the rows of art work, she saw a painting of a closed door. She told me how that seemed to really distress her. She knows about closed doors from a number of painful personal experiences, some of very recent origin. As she walked along with her husband, she kept mentioning the closed door. Then she came to my drawing. “Look!” She said to her husband, “The doors are open! That’s how doors should be!” She fell in love immediately and placed a bid. See, even though she knows about closed doors, she knows about open ones as well.
But before the bids closed they had to leave, so she didn’t know if her bid was the winner or not. Several days later, she received a phone call. Her bid won. In fact, her’s was the only bid. She was thrilled and sent a check for almost three times the bid price she was so happy to have the piece. As she told me the story, I not only felt pleased something I created had impacted somebody so much, but I felt something akin to wonder. Here’s why. When she finished sharing, I said, “Let me tell you the back story to the drawing. When I first sketched it, the doors were closed. But I decided I didn’t like that—didn’t think it had enough visual interest and it seemed lifeless. So I erased the doors and redrew them open.” The look on her face said it all. She was clearly stunned.
“Did you notice the name of the piece?” I asked. She hadn’t. “It’s ‘Come’ I said.” What I didn’t say but thought was, “I named it that because the hope is not found in the closed door or the knocking, but in the open door.” And that’s my Pentecost story—a story of the Spirit reaching into the lives of the unsuspecting and unwitting and using them to touch others.
Peace,
Jerry+
Somewhere around 2002 or 2003, our parish sponsored a charity auction of arts and crafts and I decided to try my hand again after more than 25 years of nothing. Surprisingly, my simple little works sold. Same thing next year with the same outcome. Then a dry spell again. It’s not that I don’t enjoy painting, I do, but like lots of other things I enjoy that have no sense of urgency about them, taking the time to create seems to always be a low priority. Plus, I don’t really think I’m very good so it’s easy to avoid doing something that doesn’t produce much. I’m always surprised when someone likes what I do, especially enough to spend money on it. Candidly, I thought at first it was just the novelty of one of the clergy painting—that plus the good cause the cost went toward.
A few weeks ago our current parish had a silent auction to raise money for my favorite charity—our mission work in Haiti. I decided it was time to dust off the paint box and knock out some stuff. I painted another in a series I had painted before, Tuscan landscape impressions. I’m really taken by the flame shaped poplar trees that are instant reminders of Italy. I also did a couple of others in acrylics. We were asked to set values for the work along with minimum bids. I set two of them at $150 values with $75 minimums. Frankly, I didn’t think they would sell plus I liked them enough that I was willing to take them home.
But today’s story isn’t about any of the paintings. I did a small pencil and pen drawing of a pair of doors set in a wall and intersected by another wall. The attention was on the doors with the stone walls only suggested by a few pencil lines. I probably spent more time on it than the others combined. Like the others, someone bought it. Today I learned who and why.
Her name is Linda. As she walked down the rows of art work, she saw a painting of a closed door. She told me how that seemed to really distress her. She knows about closed doors from a number of painful personal experiences, some of very recent origin. As she walked along with her husband, she kept mentioning the closed door. Then she came to my drawing. “Look!” She said to her husband, “The doors are open! That’s how doors should be!” She fell in love immediately and placed a bid. See, even though she knows about closed doors, she knows about open ones as well.
But before the bids closed they had to leave, so she didn’t know if her bid was the winner or not. Several days later, she received a phone call. Her bid won. In fact, her’s was the only bid. She was thrilled and sent a check for almost three times the bid price she was so happy to have the piece. As she told me the story, I not only felt pleased something I created had impacted somebody so much, but I felt something akin to wonder. Here’s why. When she finished sharing, I said, “Let me tell you the back story to the drawing. When I first sketched it, the doors were closed. But I decided I didn’t like that—didn’t think it had enough visual interest and it seemed lifeless. So I erased the doors and redrew them open.” The look on her face said it all. She was clearly stunned.
“Did you notice the name of the piece?” I asked. She hadn’t. “It’s ‘Come’ I said.” What I didn’t say but thought was, “I named it that because the hope is not found in the closed door or the knocking, but in the open door.” And that’s my Pentecost story—a story of the Spirit reaching into the lives of the unsuspecting and unwitting and using them to touch others.
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Dream Dreams
Next Sunday is Pentecost Sunday. Peter is reported in the reading from Acts appointed for that day to quote Joel to help the amazed people understand what is happening as the cosmopolitan crowd each hears the message in their own language. A part of that quote reads, “…I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” I love that quotation!
I’ve been one of those “young men” who saw visions, not as literally as the passage seems to suggest, but visions nonetheless. Though I’ve always had a streak of the cynic in me, what many failed to see was the idealism that was there as well. More than once I saw a vision of how a group of fellow Christians, or even fellow humans, could be more than they had been. And once, a long time ago at a slightly rundown campus center, others could see that vision as well. I will go to heaven proud of what the Interfaith Center became—at least for a time. Lives were shaped forever as that vision was realized.
Now I’m at the other end of God’s promise, “old men shall dream dreams.” My father didn’t live much past the age I am now. And as much as I loved and admired him, I don’t think as an old man he had any dreams left. My older brother seemed not to have dreams either once he reached my age. They are the old men with whom I have most personal history and experience. But I find my imagination still outpaces my actual opportunities. I mentioned to a friend just yesterday that, out to pasture I may be, but I find I still feel as if I have more to do and to give for the sake of a better world. Alas, and I don’t mean for this to seem as if I’m feeling sorry for myself, I don’t see situations in which I could give as much as I feel I have to give. Not that I can do nothing—I still teach and train. But it doesn’t feel the same.
So, if this is not a blog about frustrated I feel, what is it? I mean for it to be a blog about visions and dreams. I have the dreams and I hope to find a way. You have visions and dreams, too. Find you opportunities and pursue them for the Kingdom’s sake.
Peace,
Jerry+
I’ve been one of those “young men” who saw visions, not as literally as the passage seems to suggest, but visions nonetheless. Though I’ve always had a streak of the cynic in me, what many failed to see was the idealism that was there as well. More than once I saw a vision of how a group of fellow Christians, or even fellow humans, could be more than they had been. And once, a long time ago at a slightly rundown campus center, others could see that vision as well. I will go to heaven proud of what the Interfaith Center became—at least for a time. Lives were shaped forever as that vision was realized.
Now I’m at the other end of God’s promise, “old men shall dream dreams.” My father didn’t live much past the age I am now. And as much as I loved and admired him, I don’t think as an old man he had any dreams left. My older brother seemed not to have dreams either once he reached my age. They are the old men with whom I have most personal history and experience. But I find my imagination still outpaces my actual opportunities. I mentioned to a friend just yesterday that, out to pasture I may be, but I find I still feel as if I have more to do and to give for the sake of a better world. Alas, and I don’t mean for this to seem as if I’m feeling sorry for myself, I don’t see situations in which I could give as much as I feel I have to give. Not that I can do nothing—I still teach and train. But it doesn’t feel the same.
So, if this is not a blog about frustrated I feel, what is it? I mean for it to be a blog about visions and dreams. I have the dreams and I hope to find a way. You have visions and dreams, too. Find you opportunities and pursue them for the Kingdom’s sake.
Peace,
Jerry+
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