All About Grace- An Audio Version

Last Sunday I posted the text of my sermon from that morning. It was a short story about grace and Jesus. I recorded it on my iPhone and then added some stock and my own photos and posted it on You Tube. If you want to hear me tell the story, just click below.

All About Grace- A Story

I preached this morning, something I don't get to do as much any more. I was in the mood to write a short story. The scriptures pointed me to the ideal of grace. Here it is for your reading.

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I have always enjoyed novels and stories. They are a way to listen, share, and learn. They can sneak in the back door with truth. Jesus told stories, but we call them "parables." They share truth even through stories of things that never happened. For many years I wrote a story every Christmas for the candlelight service. As I prepared for today a theme came up on the Internet on one of those idea seeds and I said- yep! The theme was a historical story in a woodworking shop with a scale.

As I started to write I saw this woodworking area that was part of the courtyard of an ancient house. It would be wrong to call it a “shop” as it was just a wide area on the side of the house. It was well arranged and, like the house, it had a good roof, as much for a place to sleep outside in summer as to keep out the sun and the winter rains.

Various tools of the time were scattered. We might recognize some of them- and wonder how anyone could do such fine work with such primitive tools. But have no fear, years of training, apprenticeship, and then hard work do work miracles. There was no workbench. That came much later in history. The Craftsman, and his sons, worked on the ground, bending, kneeling or sitting. Different projects at different stages of progress stood against the wall of the house or leaned against one of the poles that held up the roof. For one, the plow from their neighbor Avram had hit a stone too big to pass by. He would be repairing its gash. Door frames for the new doors for the synagogue were curing in the sun.

But what caught everyone’s attention when they stopped by was the smell of the fine cedar wood The Craftsman was using for his most important task in months. He was to build a new box for the synagogue. It was to be the place where the Torah scrolls were housed between the Sabbaths. In a couple hundred years these boxes would be known as “Arks” after the Holy of Holies at the Temple. In those days, though, the great Temple in Jerusalem was still the center of religious life and no one would even consider using that name for a mere local synagogue. Synagogues were not for worship as we know it- and as Jerusalem described it. The regular pilgrimages to the Temple provided the central rituals of sacrificial worship. Jerusalem was for true worship. Synagogues were more like schools. They were places to hear the Torah read and explained. At that time in history they were not much more than large rooms, maybe 30 feet by 30 feet. Benches sat along the walls with the local copy of the Torah- the five books of Moses- kept safely in a wooden box- brought out on the Sabbath when the community came together to hear and learn.

It wasn’t a large town. It sat on a hillside about 12 miles from the nearby Sea and surrounded by farming land. The 400 or so inhabitants were more like an extended family than a modern village. Humble, poor- and proud of their heritage, the new box for the scroll was a noteworthy addition after the old one had finally fallen apart. They had raised enough support to import this fine cedar wood from Lebanon. The Craftsman, the local woodworker, was chosen to make it instead of going to a nearby city where the care and respect wouldn’t have the same value attached to it.

The Craftsman’s two boys were most interested in that Torah chest. The expensive cedar showed that it was important- and holy. It was connected with the one God. The Shema, “Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One”, was the first creed of their faith; and those mighty words were on that scroll.

“Abba,” said the older son as he ran his fingers along the fine piece of cedar wood. “I know the Torah is from Moses; and Adonai, the Lord God, blessed be His Name, gave Moses the Aseret ha-D’varim.” (That’s the phrase the Torah uses to refer to what we call the Ten Commandments.)

“Yes, my son,” the father smiled. He enjoyed it when his sons showed interest in the Torah. They would grow into fine men of the faith. “As we heard from the Psalm last Sabbath, the words of ‘Adonai are more desirable than gold, yes, than much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb…’ ”
“Why, then, Abba, are they called simply the ten d’varim and not the ten mitzvoth?” (In English d’vrim is translated “sayings” or “words”. Mitzvoth are “commandments.”)

“Are these ten, then, NOT mitzvoth, ten requirements like all the other 600 mitzvoth?”

The Craftsman paused a moment and walked over to the piece of wood his son was admiring and touched it gently. “You are wise, my son, to have figured that out. It is an important piece of wisdom.”

The boy beamed- as any child would when given such praise by their father.

“Does that mean they are not mitzvoth and we don’t have to obey them?” the younger boy asked. “Obeying them makes us righteous, doesn’t it, father?”

The Craftsman glanced beyond the courtyard to the hills outside the city. He was remembering one of his neighbors when he and their son were young.

“You know Miriam who lives up the hill over there,” he pointed. She and Yosef, may his memory be blessed, had a son my age. Yeshua. We spent a lot of time together. There was this one Passover when we all traveled to Jerusalem. On the way home we couldn’t find Yeshua. It turned out that he had simply been sitting in the Temple listening to the elders.” The Craftsman smiles and shakes his head remembering. “No one wanted to rebuke him for something as holy as that. All saw Yeshua’s joy at having spent that time there.”

The Craftsman’s son nodded, no doubt thinking, "Yes, Abba. Get on with it." He had heard the story many times. It was part of the folklore of their town.

“Yeshua was quiet at first as we finally headed home,” the Craftsman continued.

“About a day from home we passed by Samaria. I made some kind of childish comment about the Samaritans not being righteous people because they have a different Torah, not the real one like we do.

“Yeshua stopped and pulled me aside. ‘Oh, Baruch,’ he said, shaking his head sadly. ‘We are all part of the same people in the heart of Adonai, blessed be his name. The Torah is words. They give us a way to know what Abba Adonai wants us to do. But righteousness is not following laws. It is living and being open to the ways of the Lord God- in spirit more even than in word.’

“I was upset at what Yeshua was saying. I looked around to make sure that none of the adults heard him. ‘But how will Adonai know we are his people if we don’t follow his mitzvoth?’ I asked. ‘How can the people of God stay together if we lie to each other, steal from each other, are envious of what others have?’ ”

“Just then a young boy came running at us from the village we were passing. He was a little older than us- and was obviously a Samaritan- our people didn’t live near there. We could hear him crying for help. One of his sheep had strayed and was caught in a thicket. ‘Help me,’ he kept yelling. ‘My family needs that lamb.’ Yeshua started toward the boy. I called to him, urging him to stay away. ‘He is unclean, Yeshua. Our parents will be angry. We can’t go near him.’

“Yeshua ignored me. I was afraid- I didn’t want to become unclean. I stood there and watched as Yeshua went with the boy toward a bunch of branches. Together they worked and got the lamb out of the thicket. It was a little ragged, but it survived its ordeal.

“All I did was stand there,” said the Craftsman. “I stood and was afraid of Adonai because Yeshua had just broken a command. How would he be punished?” Baruch stopped talking and rubbed his hand gently across the cedar wood. He turned to see both his sons looking puzzled. They had never heard this part of the story before.

“What happened, Abba? Did Yeshua get punished?”

Baruch smiled. “No, my sons. We never told anyone. As I watched him that day I knew Yeshua was right- the joy on the Samaritan boy’s face was enough to convince me. Yeshua never questioned what he should do. He just went and did it., I learned that day that to be righteous is not in words or reciting mitzvoth. To be a righteous one is to do what is right to help another.”

“But Abba, some say Yeshua is not a righteous one. They say he leads people away from the Torah with wrong teachings. Remember last year when people chased him from town?”

The Craftsman did remember that painful Sabbath. “I don’t know about those things, my son, though I, too have heard people say that. Many do not like to have their beliefs tested or challenged. Especially about things like the Torah. I learned much from Yeshua when we were growing up. He was a good friend and showed great compassion. I even learned to love the words of the Torah even more because of him. He showed me that they are alive.”

His sons gave another confused look.

“Someday you will understand what that means,” the Craftsman smiled. “These words are priceless. When we say them out loud how many shekels could you pay to get them?”

“You can’t weigh them," the one son responded. "They are just, well, words”

“Correct. They are air and my scale over there couldn’t ever weigh them. There’s nothing there. But they are alive and real when we as the people of Adonai live them. To make them into dead laws kills them. They are far more important than that. They won’t get us into heaven, only the Holy One, blessed be his name, can do that. But he gave Moses these words so we can find the way.”

The Craftsman rubbed his hand across the cedar and smiled then held it out to the boys. “Smell this, my sons. One day soon this will be the fine smell of our Torah, absorbed into it and always there to smell. Then, when you smell cedar it will remind you to breathe in the wonder of these holy words.”

“I smell fresh bread. When’s lunch, Abba,” the younger boy piped in. “I’m tired and hot.”

The Craftsman laughed as he put his arms around the boys. “That, too, is a holy smell from the house. Let’s eat!”

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[Note: I recorded the sermon on audio. I may put it together as a You Tube presentation. Will post it if I do.] 

More from the Duggar News

I preached this morning and the start came from my post on Friday about the Duggar Family scandal. Here's the manuscript....


The super Christian Duggar Family of the reality show 19 Kids and Counting was in the news again last week. Josh, the eldest son who was outed a few months ago for molesting his sister when they were younger, has now been revealed as having an affair and being addicted to pornography. He has admitted to this latest sinfulness.

My first reaction was Well, welcome to the club, Josh. The club of being human.

Being human of course includes the innate ability to be a sinner and do things we don't want to do- on a regular, if not daily- basis. This human ability also reared its ugly head when he acted as if he was "holier than thou," parading his faith and pointing fingers at others. Call it self-righteousness or grandiosity or even narcissism, it’s still the failing of human sinfulness.

When one sets oneself up as a judge and jury of others because one is better than others- more perfect, less sinful, etc.- the sinfulness is already active. I am serious when I say that even in his admission of sin, Josh Duggar continued his grandiosity- now he said of himself that he is "the biggest hypocrite ever.” St Paul in 1 Timothy claims the same for himself- the greatest of sinners.

One of the most important quotes I retain from my Seminary days was the one from the Hebrew Bible professor. The professor was liberal and progressive, but he got our attention when he said early in the course that

the longer you are in ministry the more you will be convinced that original sin is the only provable Biblical doctrine.

Yep.

I know I have seen that tendency toward sin- as much in myself as in others. Yet the self-righteousness that denies this reality can easily be found in any ideological approach to faith. It ignores our human failings, believes that all we have to do is believe the right way, worship in the right way, act the right way, have the right politics (conservative or liberal) and we will be fine.

That ignores that ever present human reality of sinfulness that is at the heart of both the Hebrew and Christian Testaments. Sadly, it also ignores something just as real- that we are not sinners in the hands of an angry God, regardless of what some people have said and still say. Both these testaments are filled with the work of grace. Grace: free and unearned forgiveness and acceptance. Grace is the reality that in the midst of who we are, there is also a God who is far greater. Yet, in spite of this free gift, it is in our innate humanness that we find ourselves in a seemingly constant struggle. It’s like we have these two voices sitting on either shoulder.

No- don’t. Sure- go ahead.

Back and forth they go.

In today’s epistle lesson from Ephesians Paul puts this in the context of a struggle- even more- a war.

There are of course different ways to describe war. The theologian-novelist Fredrick Buechner has commented that one way to look at it is a war of conquest. One way or another we all fight to conquer the world, for our place in the world. With that kind of war, Buechner says, there are adversaries of flesh and blood. They are human beings like ourselves, each of whom is fighting the same war toward the same end and under a banner emblazoned with the same word that our banners bear, and that word is of course Myself, or Myself and my Family, or Myself and my Country, Myself and my Race, which are all really MYSELF writ large.


In this type of war we wear the whole armor of man, because this is a man's war against other men. Buechner says these are things like:

• The breastplate of self-confidence because if you have no faith in yourself, if you cannot trust to your own wits, then you will never get anywhere.
• Maybe there’s the gospel of success-the good news that you can get just about anything in this world if you want it badly enough and are willing to fight for it.
• Don’t forget, adds Buechner, the shield of security because in a perilous world where anything can happen, security is perhaps what you need more than anything else - the security of money in the bank, or a college degree, or some basic skill that you can always fall back on.
• Maybe there’s the helmet of attractiveness or personality"

But there is another way to look at this struggle that we all face- and ignore at our peril.

This says Buechner is the war to become whole and at peace inside our skins. It is a war not of conquest now but a movement of liberation because the object of this other war is to liberate that part of ourselves which has somehow become lost, that dimension of selfhood that involves the capacity to forgive and to will the good not only of the self but of all other selves. This other war is the war to become a human being. This is the goal that we are really after and that God is really after. This is the goal Buechner reminds us, that power, success, and security are only forlorn substitutes for. This is the victory that not all our human armory of self-confidence and wisdom and personality can win for us- to become at last truly human.”

This is where Paul talks about the belt of truth (and perhaps we might add, honesty) a breastplate of righteousness- living right. There’s the shield of faith, the shoes of the Gospel of peace.

What this boils down to is that we need to become real and honest about who we are- sinners. Then, and this is as important as admitting our human nature- we look, as Christians, to God as revealed to us in Jesus Christ. There we will discover the storehouse of those pieces of the armor of God. In today’s Gospel, Jesus says we will live because of him, that the spirit gives life and that his words are spirit and life.

That promise is renewed every time we come here and come to the Lord's Table. We confess our sinfulness and are reminded of the presence of forgiveness. Then, in the Eucharist Jesus words in John are made new week in and week out: Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.

Here we discover all the many ways that Jesus living Spirit is available. We may have looked in other places and in many ways, but in the moment of that discovery- and every time- we can join with Simon Peter: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

In Memoriam: Fred Craddock

Fred Craddock
1928 - 2015

Fred Craddock is arguably one of the great preachers of the past 50 years. A professor of homiletics, he developed a story-telling style of preaching called "inductive." His goal was to bring the experience of the sermon to the people. Preaching isn't about logical argument, in Craddock's view, but about living in the sermon, overhearing the message coming to life.

I first heard Craddock in 1981 when he was the preacher for our denominational clergy gathering. I was blown out of the water. I had never experienced that style of preaching. I (along with all my colleagues) were moved in ways we never would have believed. I realized it was a style that fit my personality and my understanding of the Gospel. Fortunately his series of sermons were recorded and we could buy them. I wore out the set listening to the sermons over and over as I was driving around my ministry tasks. I started utilizing his method in many a sermon.

My preaching was changed in every which way possible. (Hopefully for the better.)

Again in 1992 I had another opportunity to sit and absorb his style. He was as good as ever.

RIP Brother Fred. Well done, good and faithful servant.

Wiki Link

After hearing of Fred's death the other day I went online and found a sermon of his. I don't know the date. He was a guest preacher that Sunday at Peachtree Christian Church. It was a joy to hear that drawl and watch the eyes. I love that little laugh he gives. They are as ever. I noticed he was slower than he used to be, although he was always deliberate. His pauses were a few seconds longer than they were before. But oh, can he put the message together. You are lulled into his down-home style; you kind of sit there enjoying what he's doing and saying as he builds his message.

Then, there it is- the Gospel.
There He is.
And you are touched by grace.

The God of Hope from Peachtree Christian Church on Vimeo.

Five Views of the Kingdom

Preached again yesterday at the church where we are now members. It was based on the Gospel lesson from Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52.

One of the fun things about writing a sermon has always been the research- which in my case is usually a fancy word for wasting time looking up semi-relevant information. I had a couple of really good opportunities in this morning's Gospel.

I started with something Father Justin planted in my brain one Sunday last year about the idea of "Kingdom." That is a word that is not an often used- and probably less understood word in our 21st Century world. Since this word is at the center of today's Gospel, I decided to play some word games with it. I dug through my computer Thesaurus and synonym finder and found some interesting replacements. 

Some of the expected words came up- domain, place of rule, country, nation, realm. But they also had their issues based on politics or lack of general usage. Territory came up. That has some potential since a territory is an area that is under the control or jurisdiction of a country, state, etc. But that feels a little too legalistic. I found the word "turf" which the rebellious side of me liked- Sort of like Fonzie as God- this is my turf. Nah. Not the right attitude. Then came the word neighborhood. Hmmm. That has a nice feel to it. I thought of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood and the calm, peaceful atmosphere he provided there. We are in the neighborhood of God. A safe place to go where a visitor or stranger could feel right at home. That's good. 

Finally came a down-to-earth kind of phrase: Neck of the woods. The neck of the woods where heaven is made real. Which, for me, picks up the sense that Jesus is using in this passage this morning. 

Jesus gives us five descriptions of God's neighborhood and how people respond to it. It is not about control or even "turf." It is about experience and value. He tells us that the kingdom, the neighborhood is like a mustard seed  or leavening, what we call yeast. It is like a treasure in a field or a pearl of unlimited value. It is an all-encompassing net thrown into the sea pulling all into it. When you are in heaven's neck of the woods, something happens.

Jesus' first two descriptions are surprising. We are not talking about good things here. The mustard plant is an invasive species. The local farmers of Jesus audience would not have thought it something to cultivate. And it doesn't take much. Just a tiny seed does all that- or at least gets all that started. 

The same is true of leavening agents. Here is where, as a bread baker, I took another research detour and was reminded that what Jesus is talking about is not a package of Fleishmann's yeast from Hy-Vee. He is talking about that little lump of yesterday's dough known as a starter. A piece of slightly spoiled dough. Or the other way to get a leavening for bread is the heady foam from beer when it is being fermented. That was learned centuries before Jesus. But like the tiny mustard seed, leavening too doesn't take a lot and is potentially destructive. Let the sourdough starter sit too long and it's ruined. Use too much beer foam and it doesn't rise properly.

Why then would Jesus use an invasive weed or yeast to talk about God's neighborhood? Well, and this is an interesting thought- because they both have a way of spreading beyond anything you could have imagined. They are both powerful in spite of their seeming smallness. The neck of the woods where heaven is made real doesn't take a lot to get started, but wow! when it starts, it can be like that sourdough starter that you can never get rid of- and don't want to- it just keeps providing load after loaf.

Pretty valuable I would say which leads to the next two- the treasure and the pearl. This kingdom- this neighborhood surprises and delights us when we discover, even stumble upon its peace and joy. It is so great we are willing to bet the house on it. You don't want to lose it. You want to pull it in. You want to embrace it. The first church members 2000 years ago obviously felt that way. This teaching resonated with them. 

The first members of Alcoholics Anonymous 80 years ago responded the same way about their new and revolutionary idea for recovery from alcoholism. They put it down in their text- If you want what we have and are willing to go to any length to get it- then you are ready. No wonder some contemporary theologians see AA as a model of the church- and maybe even God's neck of the woods.

At first glance this all seems like some pie-in-the-sky idealism. Is God's Kingdom worth THAT much? Would I be willing to put all my savings, life, and future on that presence? Would living daily in God's neighborhood be worth that? Many over the years have believed that the answer to that is "yes." It doesn't take much to get it started- that pinch of sourdough or that tiny mustard seed in one's experience and suddenly things have changed. A commentary asked the question: I wonder, not simply would I be able to risk everything for the treasure hidden in the field, but would I even know the treasure worth risking for, if I came upon it?

The writer went on to say: Life is short. If there is anything worse than not reaching your goals, it's setting goals too low and reaching them. We can get life, oh, but adventure, treasure, the life worth living? God help us. We sell out too quickly, we settle for too little, we make nothing more important than money, and thereby we miss the treasure.

Which I think brings me to the fifth  simile Jesus used- the net, cast out into the widest waters possible. The neck of the woods where you can find the peace, joy and hope of God is not a narrowly defined location on a map. Nor is it a narrowly defined set of rituals, activities, theology, or ideologies. You get started and see where it leads. Later it gets sorted out. Not necessarily just at the end of time as in that passage, but also as we allow ourselves to experience more of the eternal life in the here and now, we will grow. The little seeds or the pinch of leavening within our own lives and souls will slowly permeate. It will fill us to overflowing- to life abundant. It will let us know that this is a safe neighborhood. It has a way of spreading beyond anything you have ever imagined.

Which is why I have no doubt that Paul knew that. In the end that is what he is talking about in that wondrous final section of Romans 8:

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

That's a neck of the woods worth exploring.

Just as a postlude, the following quote was posted by a friend on Facebook. Just thought it was worth passing on:

"Sermons: every week another one hanging around your neck like a penance, supporting the traditional assumption, from the days when the priest was the only person in the village who could read, that you could stand up there in the pulpit having universal truths channelled through you, when all you really had were questions."--Phil Rickman, The Smile of a Ghost: A Merrily Watkins Mystery (Macmillan, 2005), 69.